Wow, this is the longest chapter by far. I know I'm going to get a mix reaction for this chapter, so please share your thoughts. I really want to hear it.

Ps. I also really like writing Jamie & Charles. Let me know if you can actually see the character development. Same for Alice. I don't want her to fall into the Mary Sue type.

And then I can tell myself
What the hell I'm supposed to do
And then I can tell myself
Not to ride along with you

I had all and then most of you
Some and now none of you
Take me back to the night we met
I don't know what I'm supposed to do
Haunted by the ghost of you
Oh, take me back to the night we met

The Night We Met by Lord Huron

Chapter 15 - Grace

It is a cloudy evening, and you forget how dark it can get nowadays, with no city light to illuminate the street. The RV slowly cruises down the road, doing one last check.

"Let's circle this area and call it a night, they can't be too far. Our best chance is to start at sunrise." Charles had said to you from the driver's seat about 30 minutes ago. Now, he is looking for a quite spot to park the car for the night. You have no choice but to agree. Knowing Daryl, he will probably find a tree high off the ground to sleep on. You and Jamie stare at the map opened on the pull-out table, looking at all the possible areas they could go.

"We checked here, here and here," Jamie says circling all the spot you were able to hit before sundown. "Tomorrow will start here." You nod feeling helpless. The map is filled with dense forest, places your vehicle can't go. Your instinct tells you they will not go too deep either. They will hunt but keep close to the street to see if they can find a working car. But what do you know about hunting anyways…

As the car comes to a final park, you look out the window. There is nothing but darkness…nothing but silence, eerie kind of quiet, everything swallowed by the night. You have never been religious, but at this moment you pray to God, any god willing to listen… to keep him safe, to lead you to him. After all this time, you find him again, only to lose him so simply. So anticlimactically…

As you sit by the window, your thoughts consumed by grief, Charles approaches holding a box of stale Pop-tart to share among the three of you. It is quite as you sit there eating your so-called dinner.

"Now us three are here, there is something we need to discuss." Charles speaks breaking the silence. You and Jamie exchange a look before bringing your attention back to the man.

"I say, if we find Daryl and his brother-"

"When," you cut him off, and he restarts his sentence.

"When we find Daryl and his brother, we should just leave." You gasp at him, and Jamie looks away. "Don't make me out to be the bad guy here, just think logically. Rick is starting a war over a prison we have no stake in. One of us could die, shit, all of us could die. We didn't sign up for this."

"Charles," you say, but deep down you know he makes sense. "They're mostly women and children."

"You don't think I know that. This Governor guy has more men and more gun. Us being there doesn't increase their chance by much, because we are still going to be outnumbered and out gunned."

"We promised them, we were going to come back for them. And Daryl isn't going to accept that." You plead.

"You promised them, not us," He snaps. "It doesn't matter what Daryl won't accept; he has already left them. He's just going to have to get with the program." He lets out a tired sigh, and you can tell he's frustrated by you. "We lost Oscar trying to rescue Maggie and Glenn. It could easily have been me." He reaches out for your hand, holding it in both of his. "You want Daryl, and you get to have what you want without dying for it."

"Charles," you say his name again, holding his hand tighter. "I promised them, I promised. Rick can't defend them in his mindset; we have to go back for them." Everything he had said is something your father would say. Think smart, be logical, plan five moves ahead. "We broke bread with these people, and there is a baby in there. Can you live with that? Knowing they died waiting for us… because I know I can't. I'm sorry Charles." And you would like to think, you are better than your father.

Charles lets out a deep sigh again, closing his eyes in defeat.

You volunteer to be the first on guard duty, letting Charles and Jamie have their turn to sleep on the pull-out sofa. It's been over an hour since your shift has ended, but you don't have the heart to wake up Jamie. Asleep evades you anyways, might as well let the men rest. Why should everyone suffer. The moon light has finally peeked through the clouds, as your only light, and you wonder if Daryl is up right now as well, watching the same moon not too far from here.

The thought of Daryl brings you to the other Dixon, Merle. He is probably with him right now and you don't know how you feel about that. You know it's a matter of time before you have to face him, and you have this rage, pain, sadness, and grief bubbling deep in the crevice of your soul. What are you going to do? There are many paths you can take, but no matter the road, one person will be hurt the most. Daryl… You feel this pressure of darkness fall over you like a blanket, and you let it swallow you. Your mind continuously stirs the pot, and you think of the boy you loved so much. The boy with many scars you wanted to protect.

Be strong, Mia figlia… you draw strength from your father's voice that echoes in the back of your head.

"Hey," Jamie pops up from the back of the RV, voice heavy with sleep. "Why didn't you wake me?" he says sliding in the driver seat of the car.

"I couldn't sleep, so I just thought you should at least catch a few more hours."

"Thanks, but you need to rest as well. You're no good to anyone if you're dead on your feet." You hum in agreement, but you don't make any move to get up.

It's quiet, as Jamie takes sips from the water supply, trying to wake himself up. You sit there as well trying to clear the intrusive thoughts.

"So," he says bringing your attention back to him, "I'm glad we agreed to go back for them." You hum again in agreement. "You know, it's always been just me and my mom, before all this, before she died. But if she was a live today, in that prison, I would want someone to go back for her. That's how I try to see it." You can't help but smile. Your sweet Jamie, the boy with a supernova for a heart. You reach over to him, squeezing his hand.

"Finding Daryl is the most important thing right now. We will deal with everything else one step at a time." Your voice is soft not to disturb the sleeping soldier in the back.

"What are you going to do if we can't fine him…" He expresses the thought you have been trying to avoid. Just like that the darkness returns like a fog, rising from behind you, whispering, Daryl might not want to be found by you. After all, he had just left without looking back. Not even a lousy goodbye-message was passed to you. That part of you also understands you're no better than Rick, chasing a ghost. You know you are not loved as much as you love fiercely. It's always been like that with everyone, including your parents. But you chase anyways.

You can feel Jamie's eyes on you, but you have nothing to say.

"All I know is," Jamie says, and his voice has that light tone, the one he uses when he tries to cheer you up. "If a girl ever fights for me like that, I swear, I'm totally getting on one knee," at the stunned look you give him, he chuckles. "You got the hots for the redneck right, that's what this is all about?"

"Jamie!" you whisper not so quietly, reaching to smack him on the arms. He shies away from you, dodging your hit with a laugh.

"I'm just sayin! Y'all dated back in the day, right?" He keeps the smile on his face, "which is cool and all, but one thing I can't wrap my mind on is, how the hell did a man like Daryl, bag a smoke show like you? It makes no sense." He says incredulously.

"Oh, I'm a smoke-show now hah," You smirk at him, eyebrow raised.

"Like a fuckin 4th of July barbecue at my uncle's house." A loud bark of laughter leaves your throat, and immediately you both look toward Charles who hasn't even shifted in the bed.

"And what, you think Daryl got no game?" You question, lowering your voice.

"I know on my mamma, that man ain't got no game. Did you see how he was skinning a squirrel?" You cover your mouth to keep your laugher quiet.

"First of all, those two things don't correlate. But… yeah, you are right, he's not good with girls. I made the move on him first." You laugh at the wide-eyed look he gives you.

"Are you fuckin kidding me! Why don't shit like that ever happens to me?" He says smacking his chest dramatically. He looks up at the sky questioningly, like his prayers are being unanswered. "Now all the ladies that want me are walkers." You reach over to pet his head comfortingly, smile still on your lips.

After a moment of sulking, he turns to you. "You know, I always thought you would be with someone like Charles," he says. You give him a surprised look.

"Charles? Oh wow. He's too much like my father." Though not exactly, Charles has an echo of your father in him.

"Oh damn, I guess it's true, we are as blind as we want to be," he says with a smirk, giving you a look. You look away, knowing you don't even want to ask what he means by that. That's a can of worms you don't want to touch.

It's truly by a chance you find him.

It's late in the afternoon, and you have been looking for hours. The gas tank is running low, and hope is starting to look bleak. All day you haven't found a single trace of a human-being beside the dead, and then… you hear a gunshot.

You were driving close to the I-95 bridge when you hear it. Charles steps on the gas, jerking the car forward. Anxiety shoots through you, and you grab hold of your gun, feet tapping impatiently as the seconds dragged on. It doesn't take long before you pull near the bridge, but it's blocked off by dozens of abandoned cars. It's quiet, but you can smell the fresh blood and gunpowder. You don't wait for the men. You grab your sniper rifle before rushing out of the car.

"Dr. Hart, wait! You don't know wha-" you don't hear the rest, the door to the RV slams shut as you take off to the bridge. Within seconds, Jamie is at your back, his gun ready as well.

"DARYL!" You shout, hoping he would be nearby to hear you. There is nothing but few corpses lying around. But one among many, you see an arrow lodged into its head.

That is all the confirmation you need.

You sprint off in the direction of the arrow, down the bridge into the forest. You don't hesitate as desperateness grips you, you push pass leaves and branches franticly, moving deeper into the unknown. Behind you, you can hear both Charles and Jamie calling after you. They are fast on their feet, following not too far.

"Daryl!" You call out as loud as your voice can carry. And by some miracle, you don't need to go too deep in the woods.

He is right in front of you.

You lean your hands on your knees catching your breath.

"Hi," is all you could say, as you just stare at each other, him looking flabbergasted. You are filled with relief, thanking which ever god heard you last night.

"What…" He looks like he is having a hard time putting his thoughts together. "What are you doin here?" He questions finally. You only smile, your eyes fighting the tears, part of you want to reach for him, to hold him, but you know that will not be welcome.

"We're here to take you back." It's Charles that speaks up.

"Who the hell are these jarheads, little brother," a voice speaks from behind Daryl. And just like that, you come face to face with that fucker, Merle. A face you haven't seen since you were 17. He has aged and lost some weight since you last saw him. Though you tried to prepare yourself last night, at this moment, you realize you are not ready to face him. To face the betrayal, you barely allowed to sink in… but looking at him now with that smirk on his face, causes you to choke on air, breathless, as your body is engulfed in fury of fire. Anger like you have never experienced before…

You just see red… and for a moment you thought you blacked out. You don't even remember when you took the steps towards him, all you hear is the loud smack that resounds through the forest when your hand connects with his cheek in a hard slap.

"Fuck!" You cuss, shaking your hand, feeling the pain to your bones.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" The slap had jerked his face to the left, and he turns to face you, his cheek red and spitting blood. "The fuck is wrong with you lady!" Merle takes a step toward you in a hostile manner. But abruptly pauses in his track when he hears the cockling of a gun from Jamie, who lifted the AR-15 at him.

Daryl stands there glancing between you and his brother. He has a bewildered look to his face, oblivious to the reasons of your hostility. You are sure he remembers the dislike you had for his brother. But as far as he knows, he was there for the few times you've been in Merle's presence, so he doesn't understand where this conflict is coming from.

"You don't remember me, hah?" you ask massaging your hand. The slap probably hurt you more that it hurt him. "Take a look again, asshole!" And then you see it, when the recognition blooms on his face.

"Well, well, well, if ain't the DA's daughter!" He laughs, looking toward Daryl. "Now I know why you're trying to rush back to the prison. You got your old sweet-cheeks waitin on you!"

"Shut up!" Daryl snaps, but you don't give him a moment more to respond. You step right into Merle's personal space, your nose almost touching his.

"Do you remember the last time we spoke?" Your nostrils flares as you stare him down, and you know he remembers. His facial expression changes, humor leaving his face. Perhaps he is hoping you don't know the truth, and his eyes drifts to Daryl, wondering if his brother is aware as well.

You take a step back, fists clenched by your sides, glare set on Merle, "That's what I thought…"

"Gentlemen, as lovely as it is to stand around and smell the rotten flesh, please let's take this argument in the car." Charles speaks, addressing everyone, exasperated by all the drama.

"Come," you say to Daryl, stepping away from the older Dixon. Daryl doesn't move, just looks toward his brother.

"I can't! You heard officer friendly!" Merle tells his brother, eyes desperate, stuck between a rock and a hard place.

"Oh, if you're talking about Rick, don't worry, she made sure he had a change of heart." Jaime laughs, winking at Daryl. He lifts his hand to his mouth like he's about to tell a secret. "Duude, I'll tell you later," Jamie whispers not so quietly towards Daryl. When you glare at the young soldier, he looks away with a teasing smile on his lips.

Charles lets out a deep sigh, "We're here for both of you, now let's go."

That is all Daryl needed. You all start walking back to the car, Merle following behind.

"My man, the hell happened to your hand?" You can hear Jamie's exaggerated voice. "I ain't gonna lie to you though, it's kinda of badass."

The entire drive back, Merle yapps in gruesome detail to a very impressed Jamie about how he lost his arm, cutting it off himself.

You return just in time for the governor's attack.

They had driven through the prison gate, releasing dozens of walkers. The RV barrels through the broken fence, and the moment the car comes to stop, Charles is immediately on his feet, barking orders. "You two," he says pointing at the Dixon brothers, "get the gate back in place. Use one of the cars to prop it up. Jamie, you're with me on clean up duty. Dr. Hart, cover everyone." He says stepping out of the car with a gun and knife in hand.

You all move in sync, the moment you step out of the car, Jamie squats down, pressing his hands together like you practiced in the past, you step on it to prop yourself up, and he gives you a boost, pushing you on to the roof of the RV.

You lie down with your sniper rifle propped, eye to the scope. The men were efficient, how they move, and you all work together as you take back the prison. It's done a lot quicker than you imagined.

Soon, Charles is there to help you off the roof of the RV. You can see the prison's group pull themselves out of their hiding spot with a relief look on their face. You can tell they are shaken up by it, the governor had caught them off guard. You also see Axel's dead body and Carol is covered in his blood. As you step forward to check on her, Charles tags you back.

"If we are going to stay, you know what we will have to do," you know exactly where he is heading, and you let out a sigh, humming in agreement. "It can't be me; you understand. I will help you, but it got to be you." He tells you and you nod in acceptance.

"Everyone! Gather up!" Charles's deep voice booms through the prison, like he is giving a drill to military cadets. As the group gather, you take the ring of keys from Carl before you walk to Merle's cell. They had tossed him in one of the cells the moment he walked in, and you can't blame them.

He looks at you when you unlock the gate, a cocky smirk on his face, but his eyes said another. You know that look in his eyes, you have seen it display in Daryl's face. It's the look of hurt when he feels cornered. Daryl's instinct is to respond in anger, while Merle's is to respond in a smirk and perhaps give the middle finger. You hate the fact you know a lot about this man, about his childhood, and his toxic love with Daryl. You hate the fact that you can read his face…

There is no win for you, no matter what road you take. Do it for Daryl, you tell yourself. You swore a long time ago that you would protect him, would do anything for that boy…

"Do you want a roof over your head and to remain with your brother?" It's a rhetorical question; you know the answer.

"Ya know I do," but he answers anyways.

"Then, when we get out there, you shut the fuck up and let me talk." You tell him sternly.

"Yea, yea," he rolls his eyes at you,

"Do not fuck with me, you understand, if you-" He cuts you off.

"Jeez, alright, don't get your panties in a wad." You fist your hand, to stop yourself from choking the man. You wonder if there is some higher power testing your patient with this man. Perhaps they are testing your love for Daryl. You let out a sigh, before leaving him with an open door.

The group fills the common area of the prison wing. Charles stands in the middle in a typical military formation, legs apart, hands behind his back, chin held high. Even though everyone is there, he only addresses Rick, who's sitting on the steps leading to the second level.

"I hate to be the one to state the obvious, but I'm sorry Rick, you can't be in charge anymore." Rick looks taken back, like he didn't hear him correctly.

"You got some balls, Charles. You're going to come in my house and tell me how to run it?" You can see the tension slowly rise, and with it, so does Rick.

"I don't think you understand, this isn't a request. It's a forced abdication." The always straight shooter, Charles doesn't flinch. "We see you talking to yourself, and you're not in the right mind to lead. We'll take it from here."

"Who the hell you think you are to make that decision; this is MY Family. MY FAMILY! And what? You want to take my place? Is that it?" Rick is face to face with Charles, anger raging in his face. You remember the story about his best friend, the deputy wanting to take his wife and kids. Perhaps, this is more about that then Charles… another man who wants to take his place.

"I'm not interested in leading this group. In fact, if it was up to me, I wouldn't be here." The soldier is calm, as he returns the stare, in some sort of testosterone standoff. You close your eyes, letting out a sigh, wondering why you trusted Charles to deliver this delicately. You step forward, sliding between the two men.

"I'm taking over Rick, not Charles." You tell him, drawing his eyes to you. "This is just temporarily of course. We're here to help you until you get better." You put your hand on his shoulder like he does when he tries to reach out to you. He looks away, and you know he understands what's happening to him. But of course, it doesn't feel good to let it out in public.

You move your other hand to his cheek, bringing his eyes to you, "It's ok, Rick, you are allowed to mourn. It only means you're alive. You know we have no stake in this prison, but we came back for you, for all of you. We are willing to risk our life for you, but you can't lead us like this. It's dangerous. There is a mad man out there, and our lives are on the line, your kids' lives are on the line." His eyes are glossy and the blue shining like sapphires. The look on his face is filled in raw pain.

"When we first met," you grab both his hand in yours, bringing it to your chest tightly, "you held my hand like this, and you asked for my trust, our trust, for the baby you said, remember? Now it's time for you to trust me." Tears falls down his face and you can tell; what you are asking is big. Just a day ago, you had left him, when he begged for you, now you're asking him to trust you. You can see how that might be hard to swallow.

"It's ok, Rick. Let me take over." Your voice is soft, and you pull him to you. He hugs you back, his head rests on your shoulder. You can feel the wetness of his tears on your neck. He shifts his head to look at little Carl, who in turn gives him a sad smile, nodding his head.

"Ok," Rick whispers, his voice muffled. "Ok, you take over." He says pulling back. He walks toward his son, and the two embrace.

"Alright," you nod. You look among the group as well, and Hershel gives you a pleased smile, nodding his head. It's obvious he's been worried about rick. When you look back at Charles, he too, gives you a nod.

You step in the center, taking the stage to address everyone.

"But before we begin worrying about that sociopath who call himself the Governor, we must deal with our own house first. We can't work together unless there is peace." You say, voice strong.

It is time for your plan.

They don't know it yet, but everyone was sitting on a chess board, and you are raised by a national Chessmaster. Always five moves ahead.

"Merle is staying." You tell them.

Just like that everyone have an opinion, but Glenn is the loudest.

"Hell No, absolutely not!" He steps forward, "Do you have any idea what he did to me, to Maggie?" He motions to his face, all the bruises and cuts that litters it. "This is all him. He beat me, tied me to a chair and let a walker on me." His voice is rough from how loud he speaks. He turns to Daryl, looking him dead in the eyes.

"He gave Maggie to that man… he…he tried…" He can't finish the sentence. He doesn't need to say it though, you understand what could happen to a woman in that type of situation. "We had to give up the group's location, otherwise he was gonna hurt her…"

'Was gonna,' are the key words. You let out a sigh in relief. Maggie was physically hurt, perhaps traumatized too, but at least there was no true sexual assault.

Daryl looks sick standing there listening to his friend, his eyes desperate. When you look towards Merle, he lets out a 'tsk' looking down.

"My father was a federal Judge," You speak out loud, addressing everyone, "He was the District Attorney. When I was a kid, he would take me to his office. There, he had this painting. It said, 'Every truth has two sides; it is as well to look at both, before we commit ourselves to either.' Quote by Aesop." You tell them.

With that said, you turn to Glenn. It's time for you to make a move. Time to play…

Move #1,

"My understanding is that you and Rick left Merle chained on a roof in the middle of Atlanta, during the peak of the pandemic, resulting him having to cut his arm to save himself from a walker, separating him from his brother. He bled out for days before he was saved by that psycho the Governor." You pace around the room, your voice traveling in the halls. "I'm not making an excuse for Merle, but you must understand why he might want to retaliate against you." you look toward Rick, you might be their temporary leader, but the group's loyalty belongs to him. Ultimately Rick is the decision maker.

"That was the first time you met Merle, isn't that right Rick?" You make sure to hold an eye contact with him. That was what your father use to say, never break an eye contact. "Daryl and Merle haven't been part of the Atlanta camp for very long, only about a week or so." These are all the details you learned on the way here, part of the arm chopping story merle told to Jamie. "If so, put yourself in Merle's shoes. Imagine, a strange man you barely know does what you did to him, separating you from Carl. Perhaps, we can all say you might do worse."

Check mate.

You can feel Daryl's unblinking eyes on you, it's hard to concentrate as goosebumps arise over your skin. You pace the room again. Stay on task…

"I know what kind of man Merle is, trust me, I do. He is a racist, misogynist, bigot, irrational asshole, who knows how to press people's buttons, and his mouth runs faster than his brain." You can see Merle twitch with each syllable, fighting to keep his mouth shut.

Move #2,

"But he is also clever, street smart, quick on his feet, not afraid to get his hand dirty, has military experience, and a great hunter. All the skill set you appreciate in Daryl, Merle has them too," You come back to Rick, stepping towards him.

"But perhaps there is one thing Merle has, none of us do. It's his unparalleled survival instinct that allowed him to cut off his own hand with a dull, rusty handsaw. Just imagine that. It's not because he got bit, and adrenaline made him do it. This is before. You need someone like that on your team Rick, you can use someone like that watching your back."

Check mate.

Ricks lets out a sigh, and you know exactly where this is going… right into your plan.

"I get what you're trying to do, what you're trying to point out to me, but I can't. He's too brash, too unpredictable. We know what he's like, and he ain't going to change. I can't trust him around my kids, none of us can. We've burnt to many bridges to turn back." When you look around the room you can tell his statement is echoed, they agree with Rick.

"Alright, I understand your decision." You let out a sigh. You look toward Daryl, and he looks at you, even though he looks defeated, his eyes held fire.

"I ain't got nowhere to go, but I ain't beggin to stay." Merle finally speaks.

Move #3,

"I'm sorry Merle, this is the group's decision. But there is one more option." You say that to the older Dixon, before turning to the rest of the team. "As you all know, me and my guys are only here temporarily. My agreement with Rick was to stay for the winter, and our goal is to leave sometime by March. Merle will join my team." You look to Charles, and you can see him pinch his brows.

"There is a place for you with me, Merle. With us. Join us, we're heading to DC, and we could use someone like you." It takes everything in you when you extend your hand out to him, and you hold on to the love you have for Daryl. Instead of shaking it, he grabs your forearm, in some sort of brotherhood shake.

"Shit, why the hell not! I'll dust off my old uniform." You turn to Charles, pleading him with your eyes. Charles had dealt with men like Merle in the military, trigger happy, hot head rednecks. You know he could work around it.

"Welcome to the team soldier," Charles lets out a sigh, before offering his hand, and the two men shake. Merle looks delighted, perhaps part of him rubbing it on Rick's face.

"Hooah, Brother," Jamie gives him a fist bump, Merle returns the hooah, as well as his fist bump. The room is quiet, and you let the group digest what happened. But unfortunately, this is one thing they have no say in.

Checkmate.

"Now that's solved. All I ask now is, you tolerate him until March. While he's here, he will pull his own weight," Glenn cuts you off.

"So what, we're just supposed to co-exist, happy family, like nothing happened, like he didn't hurt Maggie?" He is hurt by your decision; you know he is.

"I understand your concern, but it's only temporary. I will take responsibility for him while he's here, but if my word is not enough," You turn to the younger soldier, the biggest, and strongest man in the group. "Jamie, if Merle tries anything fishy, anything at all, beat his ass within an inch of his life, don't hold back, the asshole can take it."

"Tsk, bless your heart," Merle gives a snarky comment, with a smirk on his face, when you turn to him wrath in your eyes, he shuts up.

"Trust me old man, you ain't much for me, just a nickel and a dime." Jamie replies with a smile on his face.

The last two part of your plan will have to wait, for it can only succeed with Merle's cooperation.

On the other hand though, perhaps, you would have done well as a lawyer too.