Dude, There are so many characters popping up I'm having trouble keeping them all organized. This cut out scene almost made it into the official story line, until I realized... ew, flashbacks... I'm gonna try to keep the story line organised and the flashbacks to a minimum. God forbid I forgot I already told you something and then do it all over again. I dislike repeating myself, I had a hard time with the whole voicemail scene for Rick. but I also wanted to give Rick a bit more internal condflict, because I feel like I set it up where Rick was kind of... a hoe. lol or rather, he gave me the feeling that he was detatched from the whole... relationship with Aiden. So, you'll probably see me trying to fix that in the future chapters. If I really can't then I just cant.

~Loner

Terry, born Terence Owen Blake, was a child born with bendable rules. When he was a wee little lad, as his grandfather would call him, Terry was virtually free to roam and get into anything his heart desired, much to the hired servants dismay. The child could do no wrong in his parents' eyes. If Terry wanted to cover himself in flour and dirt and run stark naked down the long hallways, touching every item along the way and even knock a few vases over, the boy could. It was part of his birth right. At least, he assumed it was. Sometimes, the temptation to do just that was strong.

When Terry was 10, the rules were adjusted to meet his parents' standards in society. He remembered his father had called him into the study and sat him down. Then, the older man went into this long speech about etiquette and connections for a better life. It was a boring 3 hour speech that could have been summed up into the simple words of: Terry, learn your manners and make friends with who we tell you too.

From there, the rules were: "as long as he is following proper etiquette, he can do whatever he wants."

There was a lot a child could do, even if the child minded their manners and politely apologized.

At 15, Terry should have had a rap sheet long enough to fill 5 file cabinets, but he didn't, thanks to the bendable rules he was born with. Other kids got punished for doing bad things, Terry got eyes rolled at him as his parents cut a check. It was frustrating at times, but what could he do? His parents weren't going to change, and, honestly, while he knew he shouldn't, he enjoyed rubbing it in the other's faces. Terry was untouchable.

At least, he was until, at 16, Aiden joined the class.

Aiden was a little spit ball of fire and anger. The kid was always getting into fights: in the hallways, in the classroom, in the God damn restroom. Terry found it all entertaining. Sometimes, Terry would bribe one of the poorer kids who needed money for lunch to go pick a fight with Aiden, just so he could watch. He didn't see the harm in it. The kid got an all-expense paid meal from some 5 star restaurant and free medical for it, and Terry got a show. When he thought about it, he was helping Aiden too. The shorty was way too wound up. Aiden could use some stress relief. Clearly, if the frightening grin on the new guys face afterwards was anything to go by, Aiden's choice of stress relief was beating things up. Terry took it as a job well done.

In history lessons, Terry was paired with Aiden for a project essay on the civil war. It didn't matter which one they choose, America had plenty to choose from, as long as the paper covered the era and the reason for the war. The rest of that year Terry and Aiden met up in the library for a few hours to work on the project. Terry didn't mind at all. Even if the hours spent with Aiden brought his other grades down a bit, Terry was learning Aiden had a unique point of view, especially when it came to war.

In the end, because of the popularity of it, they had chosen the civil war on slavery. There was always plenty to write about on the topic and finding the books was simple. Aiden, though, refused to use any book not developed and printed before the 1900s. The boy insisted any book printed after that was white washed. Still, Terry didn't mind the hurdle in the search for information. He enjoyed the challenge.

The day Aiden was kicked out of the house, Terry mourned the loss. Terry had no idea what happened either. He knew, Aiden and the family that took the boy in didn't get along, but it didn't seem that bad. The official roomer was Aiden slept with the daughter of some well-connected family. But, to Terry, that didn't seem right. Aiden wasn't stupid, and richies weren't Aiden's type. The boy was rough around the edges, and the kid was always down for a quickie in the public bathrooms, but Aiden didn't just stick his dick in any ol' hole available. Aiden watched and observed people. The kid had known Terry was paying for his stress relief before Terry even thought to bring it up. No, it was more accurate to say Aiden had threatened someone, probably, one, or both, of the couple who took him in.

Terry, who had never outgrown his childhood curiosity, had to find out.

Terence "Terry" Owen Blake proved would have made a great detective that year.

Slavery indeed. Now, he knew why Aiden was so interested in the project, even going out of his way to get law books on the subject.

Terry had never been so discussed with humanity in his life. To think, the country went to war over Black Slavery and there was Asian Slavery happening right under everyone's noses.

What Terry didn't know was Aiden had used the project in history that year as an excuse to compare war time Slavery to the sexual kink dubbed as 'Slavery,' before confronting the quote "father" in the house about the woman locked in the attic. Aiden didn't make assumptions when he confronted people. So, yes, he threatened the man which led him to his current situation of being on the streets again. Was it stupid? Probably. But, Aiden had moral codes just like the next. They may have been warped, but they were there.

The day Aiden met Rick, before his confronting issue with Daryl, Aiden was glad he had done the research, else he would have had to make the choice of either walking out on the man or fumbling his way through the scene and embarrassing himself.

Daryl Dixon wasn't actually hunting the damn deer the Zombie was sinking his teeth into, but he made a huge show of it. The actual act of hunting was really secondary and his excuse for his need to get away from the group of strangers he had found himself suddenly surrounded by when Merle left for the supply run. He had just happened to stumble upon the deer's tracks leading back to the camp and thought, what the hell. Why not?

It did lead to a mini-lesson in 'how to kill a Walker' by Daryl Dixon, when the head to the walker started snapping at poor little Sophia's ankles. Fucking Shane's doing, he suspected.

"Fucking shit, people," he yelped in surprise, fast reflexes bring his crossbow up and sending an arrow through the decapitated head that was rolling around the children's feet like some scene straight out of Spirited Away. "Ya hav'ta aim for ta brain. Tha brain!"

They had gone over this mini-lesson a dozen times already. How the group could remember to take out the brain when they were on a supply run but forget when they were in camp was beyond the kids understanding. It frustrated Daryl. Not all of them were stupid, he knew, but, when they were all together in a group, the overall IQ dropped to the lower single digits it seemed.

"Now, just a minute," the older man in the crowd was pulling Daryl's ire towards him. "Now, let's just calm down."

"No," Daryl cried out in a rare show of childish emotion, "why don't you take you're stupid hat and go back to you're stupid pond, old man." He was throwing a fit, Daryl knew, and it was childish of him, but, damn, if these people didn't frustrate him. He just wondered back to the group and already he wanted to leave again. Ugh. He had to get away. Maybe Merle was finally back with that stupid Walkie-talkie they needed, so they could finally locate Ace and blow this joint.

Daryl had been in the forest surrounding the camp long enough, and Glenn, their main lead runner, was standing in the crowd of curious onlookers by Andrea and Amy. However, if Merle was back from the run, the man would've been the first to come running at even the hint of a Walker being near the camp. It was strange that he wasn't talking to the man right now, and the absence of his older brother's presence left Daryl with a sinking feeling in his gut. Daryl just knew his day was going to suck, and it just started.

Despite his suspensions, though, the youngest Dixon brother pushed through the crowd standing around him like idiots watching a play. "Merle," Daryl called through the camp, ignoring the calls for him to hold up. He took a moment to drop the line of squirrel carcasses next to the group fire pit. He would come back later and help Carol, the unofficial cook of the group, skin and prep them. "Merle," Daryl snarled out, "So help me if you're asleep right now, I'm going to kill you."

Shane cut Daryl off at the pass just a few feet from the brothers shared tent. The younger man frowned at Shane's actions, the stone in his stomach growing heavier. Shane avoided Daryl and his brother like the pledge. Two more people pulled from the group, joining Shane in blocking the path, the black guy, T-dog? Daryl thought was his name, and an unknown, a new face.

"Listen, Daryl," Shane started, drawing the kid's attention back to him, "about Merle…" Then, Shane paused as if he didn't know how to really explain what he wanted to say without upsetting Daryl.

Daryl decided to help the man out. "Is he dead?" He asked, eyes gaining a bit of a water gleam to them at the question. Daryl blinked the feeling away. Neither the time nor the place, he thought. He needed to focus on what they were saying right now. Then, later, he will sneak off into the woods and cry his eyes out while everyone was sleeping.

"Well," the man Daryl hadn't recognized started, picking up where Shane left off. "We don't know," he said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

What the hell did that mean?! "He either is or he ain't." Daryl narrowed his furious eyes at the man. What kind of answer is 'I don't know?' What kind of person just walks up to someone and goes: "hey, man, I think, your brother is dead. I am not really sure, but I'm pretty sure he is dead. Sorry for your loss."

"See. What happen was-" the stranger started only to be cut off by a rapidly growing impatient Shane.

"Look. Your brother was a danger to the group!" Shane snapped out. "He had to be stopped."

Daryl could feel the furry boiling through his veins at what Shane was implying. He had trusted the group making the run to have his brother's back. Shane was implying they had, instead, shot the man in the back. "What?" Daryl hissed out between clenched teeth, his hands balling into fist in his anger.

The unknown man was speaking again, perhaps realizing what Shane's words were implying as the man's words came out rushed and almost slurred together in his hast to explain. "Merle was acting irrational, so I hand cuffed him on the roof top."

"What!" Daryl exploded, "Then, why didn't you go get him!"

"It wasn't so simple," T-Dog took over the story. "I was going to unruffled him, but I dropped the key as we were escaping."

Daryl turned his burning attention to T-Dog. If he could kill with looks alone, the black man would be dead. "Then, why didn't you pick it up?!" A perfectly good question. When one dropped something important, it usually led to someone picking it up off the ground.

T-Dog shifted his weight from one foot to the other in his nervousness, anticipation bleeding through his features. T-Dog knew, Daryl wasn't going to like what he had to say next. "Well," the man shifted his eyes, looking anywhere but at Daryl's face, "it…" he hesitated between words, "sort of fell… down the drain pipe."

As soon as the words left T-Dog's mouth, Daryl was lunging for the man. "You fucking bastard!" the kid roared in his furry at the clumsy idiot. In that moment, it didn't matter to him that Merle could easily get out of a set of hands cuffs, a skill his brother had learned when he joined the army. What really set Daryl's blood on fire was the betrayal of it all. After everything they did for the fuckers, this is how they were treated? Daryl was going to kill them all.

At least, he would have had Shane and the new guy not anticipated Daryl's reaction. Before he could get more than a single punch in, Shane had Daryl in a head lock, cutting off his supply of air. The new guy, the one dressed as a sheriff, had pulled the revolver from his belt and held it to the kid's head. Screams of shock and worry rang out around them as the other's stood back and watched, none of them willing to get between a gun and its victim.

The new guy pulled back the guns hammer to show he meant serious business. "Now, we're going to have a calm discussion over this, you hear me?"

Daryl sucked in what little breath of air he could. "Who… the fuck…" then, with little air he was able to get before Shane tighten his choke hold on him, he pushed out, "Are you?" Daryl was severely out number in this situation and clearly at a disadvantage. The kid had let his anger control his actions before he thought the situation out. Ace would have scolded him, if the man was here. Only, Ace would have done it after having Daryl's back and helped the kid kick their asses.

The new guy in the group seemed to pull himself up, shoulders back, head held high in his confidence. "I'm Rick," he said like it was supposed to mean something, "Rick Grimes. Now, are you calm enough to have this discussion or do we need to put you down?"

Daryl didn't need to ask what the man meant. There was only one explanation to that statement in this situation. Still, Daryl waited until his face was turning purple and his vision started to go black around the edges before nodding the best he could in the choke hold.

Shane released him the same time Rick put down the gun but not away. Daryl stumbled away from the two, sucking in large gulps of precious air. This wasn't over. Not in the slightest. Daryl was a patient man. He may be out numbered now, which works in the others favor, but Daryl was going to get his revenge.

When Daryl could breathe properly without coughing, he whipped around to glare at the three men. "You killed my brother," Daryl hissed, still pissed at the whole situation.

"No," T-Dog rebutted, holding a hand over his slowly forming black eye.

Daryl took a moment to appreciate the satisfaction that coursed through him at the wound. He hoped it hurt. The victory didn't last long, though, as the black man's words settled in his brain. Daryl glared at T-Dog, not needing to say what he was thinking before the man was continuing his statement.

"On the way down, I stopped long enough to chain the door shut. Merle should be safe from the Walkers."

"Why didn't you say that to begin with?!" Daryl snapped out, his rage back with a vengeance. Seriously, here he was wasting his time on these assholes when he could have already been in town getting his brother off that damn roof. Daryl turned on his heel and started towards his truck. He didn't know where he was going, but he would figure it out when he got there.

"Where are you going?" Glenn yelped in surprise as Daryl brushed passed him.

"To get my damn brother off that God damn roof!"

"You don't even know where he is!" Shane snapped.

"I'll take him," Glenn volunteered. "We shouldn't have left him, so I'll go back with him."

"No," Lori shouted across the camp from where she was exiting Dale's RV. The woman, instead of following behind with the rest of the curious crowd to watch the show down they all knew was coming, had ushered the children, with Carol's help into the RV, where they could be looked after and comforted if needed. Once the children were settled, Lori placed Carol in charge of watching over them and headed out just in time to see Daryl storm off towards the parked cars. It didn't take her long to catch up with the conversation. "Rick will show him." Her tone held a finality that held no room for argument.

Lori's sudden entrance surprised even the group witnessing the interaction. The woman had just got her husband back, completing the family unit. Already, she was willing to send her husband out? There was a lot of mixed emotions about that as they watched the woman of nightmares walk up to the four men.

"You're going back to get the guns anyway, aren't you?" Lori's voice was full of scorn for the idea. "You might as well."

Rick looked to be in thought about it. On one hand, they did need those guns. On the other hand… Rick glanced at Lori's irritated expression and gulped down the edge to apologize. What he would be apologizing for, Rick wasn't sure. When it came to the dark-haired woman standing before him, there was so much he should be apologizing for. Him taking so long to find them, his family unit, was only the most recent apology. His lack of relief when he saw her walking through the crowd of survivors as he dismounted the getaway van was probably another reason to apologize. Since meeting Ace, accepting the shorter man in his life, even temporarily, Rick's guilt where this woman was concerned seemed to pile up, and it held the weight of the world to Rick.

"She does have a valid point," Shane said after sometime. There was something there in his best friend's voice that hadn't been there before. "We need those guns." For the life of him, Rick couldn't figure it out. It was a familiar tone; one he could remember on the edge of his memory fluttering just out of his reach.

"So it's settled then?" Lori looked distraught. It was her idea, but a piece of her, the one that wanted to reassurance that her husband wouldn't voluntarily leave her after just finding each other again, was hoping Rick would put up more of a fight. "You guys go back in?"

Rick looked between Shane, on his left, Lori, standing directly in front of him, and Daryl, who was way off to the right. Realizing no matter what he said now, he wouldn't change anyone's mind, Rick sighed in defeat. "I guess so." Rick, whether it was the lack of love for his wife or just because he was dense, missed all the warning signs from Lori that showed he failed her test.

Lori turned on her heel with a huff of furry and returned to the RV. Oh, how she was going to make Rick's life miserable when he came back… If he came back. The asshole better not come back…

A group of ladies sat around an old round dinner table in the rec warehouse. Each with a hand of cards from an old box they had found stored away in the warehouses lounge as they played poker with bottle caps and a few bags of chips from the kitchen area.

One of the ladies folded her hand and set them down on the table. "I'm out," she declared looking mournfully at the pile of goodies in the middle of the table.

The lady across from her threw another bag of chips into the stack. "I raise a bag of stale cheerios," the lady grinned as she looked at the other 3 sitting at the table. "I have a good feeling about this hand."

The lady to the right side of the first leaned over to the woman and whispered loud enough for them all to hear, "You ever notice everytime Jenny feels lucky about her hand, she always loses?"

"Hey!" Jenny dramatically cried as she placed a hand to her chest as if she was wounded. "I'm serious this time."

The other three laughed.

"Okay, okay, Jenny." The woman to the left of the outed player threw a bag of plain lays into the middle of the table. "I see your bluff," she said, grinning at Jenny, "and I raise a bag of lays."

"Oh, come on, Loran," the lady across the table playfully sneered, "Didn't you hear, she is serious."

Loran laughed. "I know, Tammy." Then, her expression morphed into one of pure evil. "That's half the fun of it."

"Guys," Jenny whined pathetically. "Stop making fun of me. I really am serious this time. I'm gonna win." Brown shining eyes looked down at her hand. "I just know it."

The other ladies just snickered amongst themselves as they too turned back to their cards.

Tammy reached over to throw five bottle caps into the middle of the table. "I'm not feeling so lucky today, and I've got one bag left. I want to save it for when the cards are right," she explained as she sat back.

"'Believe in the cards,'" Loran couldn't help but quote.

"Fucking Yu-Gi-Oh." The first lady idly commented to the other two when she saw their confused faces.

Tammy and Jenny's faces lit up in recognition. "Oh," They both breathed out, already turning back to their cards.

"See. This is why I keep you around, Lu-lu," Loran said absently as she shifted her cards around in her hand, "Saves me the trouble of explaining everything."

Slowly, the game continued, none of them in a rush to finish the rounds as they sipped at their waters and, as with Jenny, open their bags of chips to munch on them. It was their day off from the usual hassle and bustle of the company, and it was so rare that they all got a day off together. None of the ladies were in a hurry to rush off to do other things.

Aiden, bless the small man's soul, ran them all into the ground when they were working, but he was, also, lenient. The leader ran the place like he would a business. Everyone had work hours and off days. Everything worked in cycles of 8 to 9 hours, and everyone had two 15-minute breaks and an hour for lunch. It wasn't completely idea for the amount of work that the man pushed to be done, but it allowed for everyone to get down time between the rushing. Aiden understood not everyone could handle the sudden changes in the world of today. It didn't make his attitude any less bad, but he, at least gave them relaxation days and time with the family. No vacation time. Even they knew more than two days of no work would be stupid. Plus, how would they keep track of that? As it was, Aiden barely slept trying to keep up with it all. The poor man had dark circles as deep as the ocean under his eyes. His once youthful appearance had dropped significantly since the beginning of the outbreak. They wouldn't say he looked old per se, just worn out.

"Hey," Tammy was breaking the silence of another ground when it became clear that they ran out of everyday topics, "what would you do if you were being held against you're will?" the woman asked, "like 'it puts the lotion on the body, or it gets the hose again' kind of way."

The group groaned in despair at the question.

Loran sighed dramatically. "Okay, I'll bite." then at Jenny and Lu-lu's looks of exasperation, she said, "What? It's not like we got anything else to talk about. If you haven't noticed there isn't much in the way of conversation these days. It's not like we're going on dates or meeting hot guys. Even the sex here is in short supply these days."

Jenny adopted a thoughtful look. "That's true." Then, she turned to Tammy and asked, "Before or after the dead started to rise up?"

Tammy put a finger to her chin, scratching it in thought. "Both, I suppose."

"Before the outbreak:" Lu-Lu started, making exaggerated strokes to a pretend beard like she was Gandalf, the Great, or Dumbledore from Harry Potter, "I'd have probably have done the same as the girls in the movie; scream and ask why. After: I'd probably ask the guy to hand me the hose so I could properly wash my body off."

Jenny choked on her water in surprise. The woman coughed as she tried to laugh, breathe, and not drowned on the water she was drinking. "I can…" she tried to say between large gulps of air, "just see you there…"

Loran taking pity on the dying woman, reached over to pat Jenny on the back. "Breathe, woman, breathe."

When Jenny's coughs started to die down to more manageable levels, she said, "It's okay." Then, waved Loran off of her. "I'm okay." The woman giggled and turned to Lu-lu and tried to explain her spaz attack again, this time without choking. "I can see you just standing at the bottom of the well he kept those poor girls in just tapping your foot in impatience going," here, Jenny tried to mimic Lu-lu's Asian accent as she continued, "'Just give me the damn hose. I'll do it myself.'"

The table of woman erupted into laugher at the image they were imagining. Poor Lu-lu standing there at a full 5 foot 2, hair a mess of grim, body oil, and dirt, arms crossed in front of her small chest in irritation. The poor dude would be so confused he'd have to toss down the hose.

"Just be there," Loran started lifted her arm while her other hand mimicked the hold on the hose nozzle like she was spraying her underarm, "fshh." While the woman pretended the hose was actually spraying water, she made the movements of washing her body with the hose.

"'Ah,'" Jenny took over the act, "'much better. I was starting to smell myself,'" she said as she pretended to put the hose on the side of the table that was playing the part of the basket. "'Okay, now I hope you remembered I can only use Bath and Body works lotion. Anything else and my skin breaks out.'" Jenny looked up to the ceiling like she was looking at her captor, "'Hey.'" She called out as if having the actual conversation, "Can you toss me a towel? No?'"

Tammy took over from there, cutting Jenny off but without the dramatic flare of actions like the other two. "'Maybe a blanket, then? It's a little cold now.'"

"'You can do a lot with a blanket,'" Lu-lu pretend to lecture her pretend captor, "'Even just a towel. I'd be satisfied with a towel. I mean, I know we're on hard times right now, but seriously.'"

The ladies sitting around the old round dinner table continued their tomfoolery, just enjoying a girl's day of relaxation until they had to leave the rec house so they could be well rested for work the next morning. They split in groups of two at the door, two of the women, Tammy and Loran, went down the right path where the kitchen and guard personnel housing were set up, and the other two, Lu-lu and Jenny, continued straight, towards the Medical and Scholar's housing was set. There wasn't a difference in the two housing zones. It just made it easier for everyone if everything to be organized. Schedules posted in their zoning district meant solely for that housing area meant no rushing to find your name nor pushing to see the scheduled chore. Most of the time, like in Lu-lu, who was a teacher, and Jenny, a registered Doctor, the schedules were set. However, the rest of the districts were based off supply and demand, thus the schedules were a little hectic. People, of course, could wander over to a different area to volunteer their time; such as Tammy who was officially a Cook, because it was her hobby, but, also, an experience nurse. Most, though, were like Loran, who loved the idea of protecting everyone, and chose to work solely in their zone, never picking up a shift anywhere else in the Company.

Ch cut out

Loran opened her mouth, whether the woman was going to continue with the playful story or start a new one, they didn't know. Before Loran could even use her vocal cords, the door to the rec house they were in opened and a war cry was echoing out across the way. The ladies sitting around the old round table all turned at once to watch a man sprint across the rec area and tackle poor Aiden, who had just pushed the door to the rec house open. Poor Aiden, the ladies thought as fists went flying at the short man's face.

"Hey," Loran, being the one who was seated facing the door, leaned over the table to whisper to the other ladies like she had some grand secret the others should know, "isn't that that new dude? The one that idiot who calls himself 'Governor' brought to us."

Tammy nodded even though her eyes never left the fight rolling around at the door way. "Yep."

"Didn't he share a name with that Pokémon? Mural or something like that?" Lu-lu asked just as lowly as Loran.

Jenny tilted her head, trying to think back to the paperwork she had on her desk in the small clinic they had set up. "I think, the paperwork said his name was Merle Dixon."

"He does know that's the leader, right?" Tammy asked softly as she glance between the other women.

Loran adopted a look of hurt. "But, of course. There is no way anyone wouldn't tell him."

Tammy looked over at the two men rolling on the dirt floor. "I'm just asking because I don't really think this is a normal meet and greet."

Lu-lu snorted. "With the people Aiden has around him? He probably knows the guy and this is how they greet each other."

"With spontaneous fist fighting?" Tammy asked skeptically.

"Why not?" Loran asked back. "I mean, it's how Terry and Jefferson greet each other. Would it be weird if Aiden had the same kind of ritual of greetings too?"

"Terry and Jefferson are different," Jenny butted in, "Their idiots."

The other ladies couldn't help but agree.