Hello all. Chapter three has arrived. I accept constructive criticism, no flames what so ever.

I want to thank those who have reviewed, favorited, and followed me and my stories. You are all so kind! Thank you for your criticism.

I would like to make a special thanks to texasbelle91 for her idea at the end of this chapter. She has also helped me with other ideas. Thank you so much, dear! You are a doll!

Please Review!

Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead or the characters. They belong to their respectful owners. I only own my OC(s).

Chapter 3

She ran from him in slow motion, laughing gleefully. Her dark hair flew behind her shoulders as she ran. He watched her, unable to chase after her. Her white sundress flowed around her lean, pale legs, her bare feet touching the green grass before her feet. The setting sun shined through the trees before them, framing her. She looked like an angel. She turned her head slowly, her bronze-brown hair flying around her face and shoulders. Smiling widely at him, her lips parted in mid-laughter, her whiskey eyes full of mirth almost beckoning him closer to her.

Daryl opened his mouth to call out to her, but he had no voice. His body shivered as she laughed again, like they were playing a game that was amusing her. For Daryl, watching her run away without able to catch her infuriating and caused him to panic. Daryl never panicked, but to see her running away so carelessly, not knowing when he would see her again.

He had to catch her. If he didn't she would disappear again. He tried moving without avail and he scowled at his feet, cussing under his breath.

"Daryl!"

The tracker's dark blue eyes instantly shot up to her, his ears rejoicing at the sound of her voice. So beautiful and the yearning grew tenfold, burning in his blood. He grew desperate as he tried to go to her. He tried calling out to her again. Nothing but silence. She was still running, but smiling at him invitingly. At his inability to get her he felt a dull ache in his chest.

"Daryl!"

He focused on her again and found her to be stopped, standing just feet away from her. She was so close he could stretch out his arm and touch her with the tip of his fingers. His shoved against the lead of his arm, determined to reach for her. He had to know she was real. She looked so real.

"Daryl,"

The ache in his heart grew lighter as he froze and looked into her whiskey colored eyes. Daryl's lips parted, wanting to say something badly. He wanted to tell her that he missed her, to never leave him again. He wanted to tell her that he would find her. There was so much he wanted to say, but his throat was closed and no sound could come from him.

Instead, he focused on her eyes, her face, drinking her in. If this was the last time he saw her then he wanted to remember her. His chest ached in longing, his hands itching to touch her skin again. Daryl soaked in her face, eyes, nose, lips, hair, neck, chin, everything. She looked the same as she did the last time he saw her in person. That was a long time ago. And the ache in every bone still remained. Then she whispered, her voice so near it sounded like she was actually speaking into his ear.

"I love you,"

Daryl jerked awake, sitting upright in his cot. Heavy breaths escaped his parted lips. Dark blue eyes darted around the room, heart pounding, and a tiny amount of hope driving him to think that she was actually in the room. His cell was empty to his slight disappointment, light filtering in through the barred window. Daryl placed a calloused hand on his forehead, wiping the beads of sweat away that greased his long, shaggy bangs. His skin felt hot under his fingertips as he shoved the thin sheet from over his still fully clothed body and placed his socked feet on the cold concrete floor. He buried his face in his hands, elbows on his knees.

Despite his calming heart, he felt so hollow inside. He lifted his head to peek around his cell, just in case MaryJane was in the room. To his dismay, she wasn't. Closing his eyes he let his rough face fall back into his hands. He felt like shit even though he got a little more sleep than usual. He felt sluggish and worn down. He was tired. Daryl was tired of everything.

He wanted the world to go back to the way it was. He wanted to go into the woods and not have to worry about his fellow man coming up on him with intent to harm. He was tired of having to run. He wanted to sleep soundly like he did years before. Though most of all, he wanted her to go away. Well, he didn't really, but he knew his lack of sleep was affecting his efficiency in protecting and providing for the group. With the way she was starting to haunt him more frequently, even when he was awake, he wanted her gone.

He knew he would never see her again. Although he prayed last night, he didn't think God was there. Why he even prayed he didn't know. He was never a church-goer or true believer in Him. Daryl always operated with the idea that luck and karma were bitches that liked to fuck his life up. He didn't think God had anything to do with it. If He were truly there then why didn't He save Daryl and his brother from the abusing wrath of their father? If God loved all His children why didn't He protect him? Why did God stand by and not help?

Daryl had the answer for that. Because God didn't give a fuck. He wasn't there for Daryl then and He sure as hell wouldn't be there for him in the present. So why did he even bother?

Hope?

That was a word that was overused in the apocalyptic world the human race lived in. Hope gave everyone false aspirations of the future and that everything would be okay. It wouldn't be. It would never be okay. Everyone would always be running. The survivors could never stay in one place for too long because of the threat of the growing walking dead and of their fellow survivors. Daryl's group knew too well of that.

Having been a drifter most of his life with Merle, Daryl was used to being nomadic. The others weren't. Some of them had families and didn't want to always be moving, but choices were slim. You either die taking a stand for your home or you run for your life and try to make a new one somewhere else. It was that simple. Now, Daryl braced for the fact that the group would have to do just that with the continuing threats of the Governor.

Hope was something Daryl had given up on a long time ago. Without her he could feel no hope. Besides, what did he have to hope for anymore? Nothing.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, he stood stepping into his boots and pulling on a fresh, sleeveless, flannel shirt, jacket, and then his black leather vest. He ran a dirty hand through his greasy hair and grabbed his crossbow. He halted at the door as he placed his hand over the breast pocket of his shirt. Panic shot through him and he stalked back into his cell. With calloused hands he set his bow down and grabbed his discarded shirt. He tore open the breast pocket and let out a breath of relief. He pull the thin, blood stained picture from the pocket and looked at it.

She was so beautiful…and she was gone.

A dark expression took form on Daryl's face as he placed the photo gently in the breast pocket of his fresh shirt. All emotion left him as he clomped down the stairs. The light smell of oatmeal caught his nose and he groaned internally. Oatmeal again. He was getting tired of it, but, hell, it was food so he'd suck it up.

Carol smiled at him when he entered. He didn't return it which was something she was used to. Neither of the Dixons smiled and if they did it was in mockery (Mostly on Merle's part). Daryl plopped down in one of the chairs and set his bow on the table as Carol walked towards him, a warm bowl in her hands. She scooted it over to the rugged tracker who murmured a gravelly 'thanks' and dug in.

The older woman nodded and returned to folding the dry laundry Beth brought in. Carol surreptitiously glanced at Daryl at times, sensing a dark mood on the youngest Dixon. She had to avert her eyes quickly several times as his blue eyes flickered over to her. She was worried about him. Then again, she always worried about him. Since Merle's return Daryl was better, but something else seemed to be missing. He seemed so…empty.

It made Carol wonder if there was something else going on with him. Even though she wasn't extremely close to him, she knew a little bit of his life before the apocalypse. From what little she knew she didn't think Daryl changed much. He was the quieter, brooder and sometimes more mature of the two Dixons. Sometimes she wondered if that was so, if there had been someone in Daryl's life that made it worthwhile. Now, Merle on the other hand was another story. Carol doubted he changed at all since the apocalypse.

He was just a man that seemed impossible to change or make better. He could be made worse than better, that she was certain. She just hoped that the latter wouldn't come true again. Though, Carol trusted the elder Dixon. Since he had been in the prison he hasn't given her a reason not to trust him. He seemed to get Judith to sleep when neither she nor Beth could. Despite his rough exterior and bad language, Carol saw a caring man. If no one believed it she would tell them to look at him when he's with his brother. One would see the obvious bond between them, even if it is really strained at times. They were still blood and that ran deep.

The older woman focused her attention back to Daryl who stood up and dumped his bowl in the sink and walking out of the room with his shoulder tense. She frowned at the back of his head. She wished she could help him...but she didn't know how to.

Beth stopped mid-step upon finding the specific Dixon she was looking for. He sat on the truck tail gate, watching the walkers along the fence row. Beth didn't mind them, feeling safe, knowing that if the undead became a problem for the fence Daryl would take care of it. Straightening up her back and taking in a deep breath she plastered on a friendly smile and walked over to the brooding tracker. Daryl made no gesture to greet her. To Daryl, she'd become a normal part of his everyday life. She was Merle's woman, despite his dislike at the idea, he respected his brother's decision. He even decided that Beth might even be some good for his asshole of an older brother. So far Daryl was surprised by what little Merle changed. He was still an asshole.

Blinking the thoughts away, Beth sat quietly next to him, her body rather fidgety like she wanted to say something. The tracker knew that Beth knew he didn't like chit-chat, but for some reason she was about to bug him. Beth bit her bottom lip, building up the courage to speak. When she did she cursed herself for how weak she sounded.

"Daryl?"

"Hmm," He mused, eyeing a walker with a tattered suit and tie.

Probably a banker of sorts.

Beth swallowed, moisturizing her throat to make her voice stronger.

"Are you okay?"

Daryl's eyebrows twitched and his dark blue eyes turned towards her with lack of emotion.

Beth sighed. "I'll take that as a 'no'."

The tracker's lips turned downward into an irritated scowl. His eyes rolled as he looked away. In all honesty, he liked Beth, but at the moment he didn't. He wanted to be alone to try and chase away the ghosts of the past. Yet, here was Beth, asking him stupid questions. With false hopes, Daryl believed she would leave with his lack of response but to his annoyance she didn't. She didn't seem ready to leave him alone any time soon. The hand on his knee tightened in response as his eyes darkened further as he stared at the banker walker.

"Somethin' ya wanted?"

Beth, encouraged by his first question, answered eagerly. "I just wanted to know if you were okay. You've seem really troubled lately."

Daryl's scowl deepened, his mouth creasing into those embedded stress lines. He ignored her again without success and his interest was sparked.

"Have I? And why do ya care?"

Beth scoffed matter-of-factly at him, giving him a look like he was clueless. "Uh, because I care about you."

It was Daryl's turn to scoff, albeit more harshly. "You care 'bout my brotha."

As true as that was for Beth, she also knew how wrong it was too.

"You're Merle's brother! Of course I care about you, Daryl! Everyone here does!"

Daryl ignored her causing a tense silence to fester between them. Even though he wanted her to go away and leave him alone he was curious as to why she was asking these things of him.

"Why a sudden interest in my feelins'?"

Beth shrugged, hoping to appear nonchalant. "You just seem lonely is all."

Daryl wasn't buying it. "What in God's great name would give ya that impression?" He asked with a scowl.

Beth gave him a soft look, one similar to one that MaryJane used to give him.

"I know what someone looks like when they're lonely. I've seen it in Maggie and I know what it feels like to be lonely and feel alone…also, because..." Beth trailed off, feeling her heart jump into her throat in the slightest. She decided in a split-second to go for broke. "... I found the picture."

The hunter hadn't been paying attention to her since she had the tendency to ramble, but when he heard her last four words something inside him snapped. His dark blue eyes shot sharply over to her. A dangerous desire of self-defense rose up to dangerous proportions.

His eyes narrowed. "Wha?"

Slightly stunned by his reaction, Beth swallowed nervously. "I-I found the picture of the girl. You left in your room and I just happened to see it."

Beth jumped upon hearing Daryl's voice rise high and with so much rage. "Ya went through my things?"

The little blonde beside him jumped off the tail gate, deciding it was best to put space between them.

"No! No!" She defended avidly. "It was just sitting on your bed! I swear! I'd never do that! I was jus' takin' laundry to your cell and I happened to see it sittin' out."

Daryl just stared at Beth, his throat closing off voice as the anger began to boil in his veins. His reaction was uncalled for, but anything involving his personal life made him overly protective. Beth held out her hands in attempt to calm the boiling man, her voice gentle and beseeching.

"I know you miss her, Daryl. I know what it's like to lose someone you love. I know she wouldn't want you to mourn her—"

"You don't know shit 'bout 'er!" Daryl snarled, making Beth winced, but she held her ground.

"Merle told me a little."

"Merle don't know shit 'bout 'er either!" Daryl snapped, standing from his seated position.

It all occurred to Beth that the subject of MaryJane was very sensitive. She began to regret ever bringing it up, at least without Merle present. If she'd known that Daryl would have a reaction like that...

"Daryl, I didn't mean to upset you. I jus' wanted to help. I know it's her you miss. I know you want MaryJane back."

A dangerous flare lit up in his usually emotionless eyes. "Don't you dare say 'er name." He growled.

For some reason, that struck a defensive nerve in her. Her warmer blue eyes narrowed back at the younger Dixon.

"Why not? You're not trying to forget her are you? How can you? Merle said you guys were really close."

"Stop," Daryl's voice was quiet and gravelly, but full of firm authority.

Beth's frustration grew along with her voice and she ignored his sharp command.

"Why? Why didn't you tell me or someone else? We coulda helped."

"It ain't no one goddamned business!" Daryl snapped viciously.

That cooled Beth's jets when she realized that what he said was true. What right did she have to demand answers from him on something she knew nothing about?

"Please, Daryl, I'm sorry." She whispered.

Daryl's hand curled into a fist. "Ya crossed a line, Beth."

Beth frowned. "Daryl, I—"

With two long strides he was towering over her in dark fury. Beth suddenly saw the Merle in Daryl. She saw what evil he could be if the side of him was nurtured. Daryl could be something deadly like Merle. Fear caused her to pale as she looked up at him with wide eyes.

His voice was deadly with warning, the gravel in his vocal cords making it all the more terrifying. "If ya ever push yer fuckin' nose inta my business again there'll be consequences, ya hear?"

Beth just nodded, finding no voice to respond. All of a sudden she felt something grab her wrist.

"'Ey! Calm the fuck down, little brotha!"

Merle jerked Beth back from Daryl, pushing her behind him protectively, putting himself between her and his fuming younger brother. Merle only saw that look on him a few times. It never ended well. Daryl glared his brother who stood chest to chest with him. He came to the aide of the woman in distress. The irony was fucking hilarious to Daryl.

"Shut the fuck up, Merle!" Daryl snarled. "Why'd ya tell 'er 'bout MaryJane?!"

"'Cause she asked." Merle replied in his smart ass way.

Daryl gritted his teeth, feeling betrayed. "Ya promised, Merle."

The one-handed man rolled his eyes, putting his hand on Beth's back to keep her against him in his desire to make she was near him and safe.

"No, I didn' I jus' said that I'd keep my damn lips sealed. I didn' fuckin' promise ya nothin'!"

Daryl's voice met Merle's into an almost yell. "It wasn't yer right to say a damned thing!"

Merle's eyes narrowed as his own confusion set in. "Ya need ta cool yer damn jets there, little brotha. Why ya wantin' ta hide MJ? I didn' think ya was ashamed o' 'er. Ya ain't is ya? Ya afraid o' makin' yaself look weak by wantin' 'er?"

"That's big fuckin' talk comin' from you, Merle." The tracker scoffed ferociously.

Merle let out a mirthless laugh, un-fazed by Daryl's blow. "It's yer turn ta not know shit 'bout nothin'."

Daryl's chest pressed against his brother's as he lowered his voice, eyes searing into Merle's with rage.

"I ain't ashamed o' MaryJane. I never was and never will be, but I don' want nobody pesterin' me 'bout 'er."

Beth winced behind Merle as Daryl shot her a glare.

"You an' I both know people that would." Daryl added.

Merle was surprised how the roles reversed. Usually it was Daryl trying to calm his estranged older brother.

"Ya right 'bout that, little brotha, but what does it matta anymore?" The one-handed Dixon asked.

Daryl stared at Merle for a few moments before answering. "It don't,"

Merle's voice rose again in frustration at his brother's indecisive mind-set. "So what do it fuckin' matta if e'ryone knows? What's gonna happen? All they's gonna do is pester tha shit outta ya. They's curious folk by nature. They fuckin' care 'bout ya little brotha. That's why Beth 'ere questioned ya."

"I know that!" The tracker snapped sharply.

Merle knew he did and knew he needed to keep the peace. Instead of fueling the fire, he opted to try and calm his brother. He didn't wanna knock the shit out of him for threatening his woman. Was his sudden turn in judgment due to Beth?

Daryl was momentarily surprised that Merle hadn't tried to slug him before then. He was surprised to find his brother calm, but not so much collected. The younger sibling could see, though, how Merle was reigning himself in, something he never did. Was that Beth's doing? What the hell has she done with his older brother, the asshole?

"I know MJ's a touchy subject. Beth won't breathe a goddamned word to nobody without yer permission." Icy blue eyes looked down at Beth expectantly. "Right?"

Beth only nodded.

Merle smirked as he looked back at Daryl who was still far from calm or feeling forgiving. The sting of betrayal still throbbed in Daryl.

"See, there ya go. Problem solved. Secret kept and locked away."

Daryl just glared icily at Merle and turned away. He stalked a few strides away when Merle called to him, his tone from joking to serious. It was a tone Daryl heard many times.

"Oh, an' little brotha…" Daryl turned his head to glance back at the protectively tense older man. "...ya ever raise yer fuckin' voice ta my woman again we gonna have a go."

Daryl's eyes narrowed and his hissed. "Don' worry. I ain't gonna speak ta 'er again."

With that Daryl stalked off, shoulders tense, rage radiating off him. Merle watched his brother go. That was the first time he'd blown up since the beginning of the apocalypse. It seems that when his brother blew up, ninety-nine percent of the time it was because of MaryJane. Despite the issue, Merle was slightly surprised by his brother's childish actions and attitude. It wasn't Daryl and it was pissing him off. Merle glared at Daryl's back, wanting to smack him upside the head to knock some sense into him.

"Just give 'im some time ta blow off some o' that damn steam."

Beth walked to his left side, Merle's hand brushing the back of hers. "I didn't mean to make 'im mad."

"As I said, MJ's a very fuckin' touchy subject." Merle reminded. "Ya shouldn't 'ave jumped questioned 'im like ya did. Not without me with ya."

Beth nodded. "I know…I realize that now. I jus'..."

Merle nodded in understanding, not liking to see the guilt in her pretty eyes. They only needed to glow with happiness. Merle found himself reflecting on the past, to where Daryl's change took place. Merle knew his brother's change of character was ultimately his fault. He didn't know why he said what he was about to say. He suppose he needed to justify himself to someone else and ultimately himself as well.

"Last time I seen 'im act like that was when I stopped 'im from tryin' ta fuckin' take off and go find 'er when the world went ta shit."

Beth's wide blue eyes shot up to Merle in surprise. "What? Why?"

Merle sighed, not looking down at her as he spoke. "I didn' wanna watch as I saw 'im and 'is world shatter when he found 'er dead or as a walker."

The young blonde stared up at him in awe. A giddy shiver of excitement followed because of his unknown release of emotion. Beth caught the forlorn expression and hint of past guilt and hoped to remember that moment for a long time to come. It was another assurance that Merle loved and cared for his brother.

It helped prove that Merle Dixon was human.

At lunch Merle sat at his usual spot on the stairs a few yards from the main table where the group sat. He wasn't welcomed at the table and he didn't have a care to be there anyways. It was also easier to keep his relationship with Beth a secret. The further away the better. Though, he still couldn't help himself as he glanced at her and catching her eyes at times.

His icy blue eyes went to Daryl who looked considerably calmer, but still tense. Merle noticed how Beth kept her distance and sat further away from his brother. Didn't wanna set him off again. All of a sudden, Officer Friendly stood, ready to make an announcement.

"Tomorrow mornin' a few of us will need to make a run to grab a few things including more baby food for Judith. Michonne and Carl will come with me. We need one more."

For some reason, something told Merle to speak up. It was a feeling that tightened inside him. For some reason, he felt he needed to go.

"I'll go,"

Rick eyed Merle in surprise, but nodded. Merle took notice of how pleased Beth looked. She'd been trying to get him to put himself more into the group and now her pushing seemed to have payed off. Merle knew that he wasn't fully trusted, but maybe this run would push things along for him. Besides, the Governor was still out there. The sooner Merle gained trust, the better he could protect Beth and Daryl.

"Thanks, Merle, we'll leave an hour after sun rise."

With that Officer Friendly sat back down, Carol handing Judith over to him. Beth grinned at Merle surreptitiously and he winked at her. His blonde blushed and focused on Maggie who asked their father a question.

Merle let his eyes stray to Daryl who seemed ready to disappear into his cell for the rest of the evening. Merle understood since Daryl took the night watch out of request. The older Dixon knew the reason why. Daryl didn't want to sleep.

After lunch was cleared away Officer Friendly and the Chinaman went to check the fences. The cop's kid, Carl left to take midday watch in the tower. The Mouse and Ninja girl spoke in hushed words while Beth burped Judith. Maggie cooed over the baby and Herschel smiled fondly at his girls.

Seconds later Daryl stood up and left, clomping up the stairs to get some rest before his watch started. Merle didn't know what to do for his brother. He wanted to kick his ass for acting the way he was, but what good would it do? Daryl seemed lost in his own world and in the past. Merle wasn't about to feel remorse for keeping Daryl from going after MJ. Merle was just protecting his brother from running half-cocked into a bloodbath that was crawling with walkers. His little brother was just gonna have to grow a pair of balls and cowboy up. Loss was something they both knew well, but you didn't see Merle acting like a long lost puppy. He sucked it up and moved on, taking it like a man instead of moping around like a pussy.

Then again, Daryl was always the more sensitive one which made him more attractive to the ladies at times. He didn't seem too distraught when their folks up and left or when their dogs died, but when one little girl vanishes Daryl loses it. It made no sense. Though, Merle knew that, in the end, if he and Beth were separated he'd fight the Devil himself to go after and find her no matter what it took. If he found her alive, thank God, if not...Merle didn't want to think about that.

All he knew was that he might end up like his brother should Beth vanish and never return.

Daryl watched as his brother, Rick, Michonne, and Carl drove from the prison. His watch was over, but he felt no desire to catch up on sleep. He'd probably cat nap if anything. He wanted to keep an eye out for when his brother and the others returned. Daryl leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes, keeping his eyes and nose alert.

Merle's eyes darted around the abandoned town, grimacing at the rotting bodies of dead walkers. Blood splattered the ground and everything it could touch. The sky was clear, blue, the sun was shining warmly on him, and the birds sang in the trees yards away. If the town didn't look all dirty and blood stained it would look like the apocalypse had never happened. With a snort of derision, Merle gently closed the truck door and walked around to meet Officer Friendly, his boy, and the ninja woman at the front of the truck. The ninja woman handed him a backpack which he slung carelessly over his shoulder, waiting impatiently and expectantly at Rick who was eyeing the town with weary eyes.

After a few seconds he turned to the three behind him. "Okay, we'll go in groups. Carl go with Michonne to the grocery store and Merle'll and I'll go to the pharmacy. We meet back here in an hour, got it?"

Michonne and Carl nodded. Carl sent a distrustful glare towards Merle and followed the dark woman until they were in the grocery without incident. Merle watched them leave then looked at

Rick sighed heavily, pulling his six shooter from its holster. "Let's get goin'."

Merle just shrugged and followed close behind the cop, looking all around him carefully. The two men kept close to the shadows the buildings let off. The pharmacy was just around the corner from the small doctor's office. Rick stopped at the end of the wall and peeked around and his muscles locked up.

The larger man behind him froze as well when the noise of groaning grew closer. Officer Friendly glanced back at Merle and their eyes locked. Merle gave him a stiff nod which Rick returned. They traded places and the older Dixon peeked around the corner. The walker was near the wall on the same building they were around. Merle shot Rick a warning look and zipped around the corner. Rick held up his pistol and watched as Merle lunged for the male walker.

The walker, upon seeing a live meal growled louder and stumbled towards him, yellow eyes alight with hunger. Merle grinned maliciously at the corpse and grabbed its shoulder, jerking its head into his knifed hand. The broad man let out a pleased chuckle as the satisfying sound of his blade went through the flesh of the rotting corpse's head. Quickly, he pulled his arm from its brain and let it drop to the ground. He kicked it for good measure and averted his eyes to the area ahead of him. It was empty.

Merle glanced back at Rick and nodded who emerged from the corner. Rick was using Merle's missing hand to his advantage. Merle was quieter and Rick only had his gun due to giving his knife to Carl. He'd have to get another one.

"Let's go," Merle said and started towards the pharmacy.

Once they reached the glass doors they stopped and tapped on the glass, hoping to attract any walkers inside. A few seconds passed and nothing came forth. Together, they pulled one of the rusted, dirty doors open. Rick went in first, followed by Merle who was being surprisingly cooperative. Rick kept his gun out as he slipped his own backpack from his shoulder into his hand.

"You take those aisles and we'll meet at the back for the antibiotics." Rick whispered into the dark room.

"See ya there, Officer Friendly," Merle grinned, sauntering off into the store like they weren't in danger.

Rick gazed amazedly at the older man's back and just shook his head. He headed into the dark aisles, ready to take what came at him.

The shelves were a mess, things missing and thrown around. It was pretty well scavenged except for a few things Merle found. He skipped most of the aisles, knowing they wouldn't hold anything of much use. He stopped at times to watch and listen before he entered an aisle. Surprisingly, the store was empty of walkers so far. Merle didn't question their luck and listened for Officer Friendly's quiet footsteps.

With his usual swagger Merle walked down another aisle and began scanning his eyes over the shelves. His eyes grew wide, lips slipping into a smirk when his eyes landed on a familiar box. He grabbed the last few boxes of Trojans off the shelf greedily. He'd need 'em for later. Keeping his woman in the back of his mind he continued down the lane. Merle didn't know how much time had passed when he reached the back where the prescribed medicine was held.

The place looked very disheveled and torn apart. Blood stained the counter top and walls. A rotting body of a woman laid under the outer counter top, a gunshot wound to the head. Just to be safe, Merle ran his blade through her head again. Just then, Rick rounded his last aisle, backpack nearly full.

"Find anythin'?" He asked.

Merle opened his mouth with a smartass comeback when a walker jumped from behind the counter, arms flailing towards them. Its lower body hit the counter top and its upper half fell against the counter, groaning in desperate hunger. Merle grimaced in disgust at the bitch and stabbed her head, his knife going straight through her brain. Her body went limp instantly, some of her matted hair falling down her arms to hang midair. The elder Dixon pulled his soiled blade from her skull and wiped access dripping blood on his pant leg.

Rick nodded to him and, with his pistol in front of him, proceeded into the back of the pharmacy. Officer Friendly sat his almost full back pack on the desk that looked out the blood smeared, gut covered drive thru window. Merle did the same and followed him down the dark aisles. He grabbed things without really looking at them, knowing Beth's old man could probably tell what they were. He grabbed as much painkillers as he could and threw them in his backpack. Rick followed minutes later with his arms full. Merle went back for seconds and returned as Rick pulled out his watch head and glanced at the time.

"We better be headin' back. We got enough, I think." He whispered, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"Right," Merle agreed with a nod.

They walked carefully through the cluttered pharmacy store, wincing every time they accidentally kicked something that made a banging sound. They cleared their corners before stepping out of the store and headed towards the truck. Merle saw Officer Friendly visibly relax when he saw his son and the black ninja woman come into view, backpacks full. Carl grinned triumphantly at his father while Michonne looked less stoic than usual. Merle swore her eyes twinkled with amusement.

He didn't know she knew what amusement was.

"Good haul?" Rick inquired, glancing at the backpacks Carl loaded into the backseat of the truck.

"Yes, we've got plenty of food for Judith and some for us." Michonne answered, voice soft and gentle.

Rick grinned a little, pleased. "Great. Take down any walk—"

All of them, even Merle jumped when a blood curling scream ripped through the air. The four survivors stiffened and went on high alert, turning towards the sound. Merle's brows furrowed as deeper shouting followed.

"Whada we do?" Carl asked, both hands holding onto the pistol he pointed towards the invisible noise.

"We have to help them." Michonne answered quickly, pulling her katana from its sheath on her back.

Merle scoffed. "Yea, right, an' get our fuckin' asses killed?! I think not! They could be some o' tha Governor's men!"

Rick shot him an exhausted look and glanced towards the noise, torn. Merle sighed and crossed his arms, waiting for Officer Friendly to make his mind up. He knew what the answer would be since he cop was a bleedin' heart. Enemy or not.

"Let's go,"

Merle let out a loud, exasperated sigh and followed them as they took off into a dead run. They followed the yells until they rounded an insurance building and they all skidded to a stop, Carl bumping into his dad in the process.

A herd of walkers was filing into the town, swamping the four humans who were doing rather well in holding them off. Rick pulled the hammer back on his pistol.

"Once it's over they might be hostile, regroup and prepare to go onto the defensive." Rick ordered in all out cop mode.

Merle grimaced, but agreed with a quick nod, the adrenaline beginning to pump in his veins. He wanted to kill those mother fucking walkers. It was felt like slow motion to Merle as he and the other three members of his group jumped into the fray, joining the four others who looked surprised to see them. As Merle stabbed their heads, shooting others that got too close when his eyes found a woman who tripped over her own feet. The walker she was fighting tumbled over with her. For some reason, Merle's heart leapt into his throat at the sight.

He saw Beth in her position and an undeniable rage exploded in him. After he slaughtered the walkers that were near him he ran to the girl's aide. He stabbed the walker that was trying to bite at her neck and pulled it off her, turning towards the onslaught of walkers that kept coming. His icy blue eyes did a quick scan over. Fifteen more and dwindling. Rick was fighting along side two other men while Michonne and Carl had a third man next to them, making a half circle of defense.

Merle glanced back at the dazed girl, not looking at her twice as he yelled to her.

"Get yer ass up! I need a little help 'ere!" He snapped loudly.

The girl on the ground quickly dashed to her feet. He didn't glance at her as she stopped beside him, a bloody knife in both hands. Merle made the first move as two came closer. He took out one and she protected him from the other. She didn't mind that her clothes and hands were getting stained with dirty blood and she never wavered even if she was fatigued. Her knives flew through the walkers' brains like a knife to butter. She grunted low and loud as she lunged her arms and legs. That's how they worked, like a finely tuned machine and team.

Merle and the girl both narrowly missed getting an arm or finger bitten from taking risky lunges at the various walkers, but God must've been on their side. Protecting them. Gun shots rang in the air as the walkers attacked in their slow, harmonious growling choir. The older Dixon was quite enjoying himself. He was finally able to let his pent up frustrations out in the way he liked. He found himself laughing as he stabbed them. His adrenaline pumped through his veins like a drug, fueling his strength to continue on.

Merle didn't know this girl, but she knew how to fight and he was impressed. If he didn't have Beth he'd go for this girl. Moments later the last walker was dropped and silence rang in the air. The silence was so deafening that Merle had ringing in his ears. Everyone was frozen and Merle glanced at the girl next to him, only seeing her dark bronze hair cover the side of her face. Then it was like a rubber band snapped and they all moved, dashing to be with their designated groups.

The two groups of four stood before the other, suspicious and thankful at the same time. Merle took this time to seize them up like they were doing to them. He eyed the man who was the obvious leader. He was tall and built like his brother with that lean muscle. His hair was silver and nearly hit his shoulders. It was combed back, but a few strands fell into his tanned, wrinkled face. He was older than Merle and better looking. His face was lean, and deeply tanned. He sported an old western styled mustache that hid his upper lip and ended halfway down towards his chin and it matched his hair.

His eyebrows were solid black to Merle's surprise. His eyes were a dark hazel that leaned more towards the green. He wore a tan colored leather jacket with frayed tassels that hung off his arms. He carried a Bowie knife and Remington. His jeans were stained with blood, his light tan cowboy boots darkened with the same thing. He didn't point the rifle at them, but in a warning that he could snap and shoot any second like a cobra. The man that stood close beside him was younger with peppering black hair, dark eyes, and a beer belly. He was armed with a six shooter and, rifle, and knife.

The third man was younger, younger than himself and Daryl, maybe just twenty-two at the most. His hair was dark blonde and he possessed handsome features, like the froo-froo ones you'd see on soap opera. The look of him made Merle wanna rough the pretty boy up a bit. He stood a little in front of the girl protectively.

"What's yer names, folks?" The man asked, his voice deep and gravelly, the kind of voice you'd hear on truck commercials.

The corner of Merle's lips turned up a little. The old man was starting Rick's three questions before Rick was. Merle focused his eyes on the girl and when it registered who it was it felt as if a safe was dropped on him. His lips fell and parted with disbelief, brows following. The girl's eyes locked with his and her expression turned to match his.

"Merle?"

Merle's lips turned into an incredulous grin. "Well fuck me up the asshole and call me 'Daisy'! Is that you MJ?

She didn't respond verbally, but she made a mad dash for him. He grunted as her body slammed into him, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist. Merle's heart kicked to start in his chest. Disbelief turned his adrenaline on again. He wrapped his good arm around her, hugging her back tightly.

Daryl was gonna flip his shit! MJ's alive! Holy fuckin' Christ!

Merle grinned as he heard her chuckling in relieved incredulity against him, her muscles relaxing. He wouldn't admit it aloud, but he was real glad to see her. He glanced behind her to see the leader of her small group relax and lower his rifle.

"Well, stranger, looks ta me like yer on our side."

There we have it. I hope Daryl and Merle were in character.

AN: I have another Walking Dead multi-chapter fanfiction in the works along with a The Blacklist fanfiction as well. Also, updates to this story will be a few days at a time because I have to juggle feverish college work, moving into a new house, and life in general. There are not enough hours in the day for this lowly college student.

More to come soon. Please review! I love feedback!

Happy Writing!