A/N: Here's the next chapter! A LOT of people we're kind of upset by the last chapter. I assure you all, things are not resolved, this is not over, and no, Daryl has NOT turned soft. Just keep reading my friends! Thank you to every single one of you who have reviewed and read and keep doing so. It is beyond appreciated.

Disclaimer: Not mine. If these boys were mine the show would be very different and Maggie would not exist

Chapter 11

"Get gone and stay gone. I mean it."…

Daryl stood tall and proud, shoulders squared and chest puffed out in a domineering fashion and for the first time in his life he felt truly powerful. Merle looked hurt, betrayed, and normally Daryl would cave and apologize and grovel; but this time Daryl wasn't falling for it. He knew Merle, knew all his tricks and his little games and Daryl was old enough now to realize he didn't have to answer to him anymore. Merle propped himself up on his elbows and narrowed his eyes at Daryl but the youngest Dixon didn't budge, determined to win this little staring match Merle had initiated. Everyone was watching by now, holding their breath waiting for the inevitable blowup.

"This how you treat yer blood, little brother?" Merle's voice was hoarse and Daryl found sick satisfaction in the bruises already forming on Merle's neck.

"Blood ain't everything." Was all Daryl said, hands clenched at his sides. He cracked his neck.

"You want me gone, huh?" Merle didn't wait for Daryl to respond. "Think these folks will take care a ya when I'm gone? Think they give a damn 'bout you like I do?"

"I don't need you to take care a me no more, Merle."

Merle laughed at him.

"So you don't need ol' Merle anymore? Thank that chink can give you a better life?" Merle was shaking his head in disbelief. "Yer gonna abandon yer family to be a little queen with that zipper head?"

"I ain't the one doing the abandoning." Daryl crossed his arms. "You did that a long time ago."

Merle stood up slowly then, bushing dirt casually off of his clothes. He still remained as filthy as ever. He circled Daryl like a hawk circling its prey but Daryl didn't move, didn't twitch; only followed his brother's movements with his eyes.

Daryl remained stoic.

"You forget who saved yer ass when we was kids?" Merle asked sparing a glance at the rest of camp with a smirk on his face. Daryl felt his stomach drop but didn't let it show. "Who was there fer you when our daddy was turning you black an' blue, hm?"

"You were only there when it was convenient fer you an' don't pretend any different." Daryl licked his lips.

"You don' know the half of it." Merle got in his face. "I left 'cause I had to. But I always came back when I thought things was bad. Merle was the only one who cared whether you was alive or not."

"Stop actin' like some saint." Daryl said, running his tongue along his teeth. "I had to beg you to take me with you when things got so bad I couldn't take it no more. Paw couldn't stand me but he liked you just fine." Daryl felt his lips curl in a savage smirk. "He could probably smell the crazy on ya."

"You think yer so special, dontcha boy?" Merle looked down at Daryl, bloodshot eyes crinkling. "Think yer better than me, then? Do you think these nice folks would keep you around if they knew the things you've done?"

Merle spread his arms wide and turned to the others with a grin on his face.

"You people wanna keep him 'round, huh? Keep him near that kid?" Merle paused for a second as if waiting for someone to answer him. Both the Dixon boys knew they wouldn't. "Daryl ain't no different than me. Just a white trash no one from bum fuck nowhere with a rap sheet longer than you can imagine an' more enemies than friends."

"I think it's time for you to go, Merle." Rick suddenly spoke up, stepping forward enough to show he was serious.

"Fine." Merle shouldered Daryl as he walked by. "You be careful, boy. These city folk act like they give a damn 'bout you but you'll see sooner or later that they don' need you 'less yer feedin' 'em."

Merle starting throwing things into the back of his truck, not caring that none of it was his and all of it was Daryl's. Daryl let him do as he please, knowing the gear could be replaced. When Merle went for the motorcycle Daryl finally broke his silence.

"Don't even think 'bout takin' that bike."

"Who the fuck do you think yer talkin' to?" Merle snarled dropping the sleeping bag he had in his hands, turning to face Daryl once again.

"I'm lookin' at you, ain't I?"

Merle laughed darkly. "Yer gonna regret this, brother."

"I ain't gonna regret nothin'," Daryl said smoothly. "Get gone and stay gone. I mean it."

Glenn was more than a little shocked when Merle left, Daryl watching the truck get farther and farther away until it was just a speckle on the horizon. This was a side of Daryl that Glenn had never seen before. The older man wasn't shy when it came to voicing his opinion and he was certainly capable of defending himself, but when it came to Merle Daryl had always seemed so passive. Daryl loved his brother for reasons Glenn didn't understand, always sticking up for the older man even when he was in the wrong. Glenn relaxed slightly when Daryl turned to them, face losing some of its tension but Glenn could still see the struggle all over his body.

"What're you lookin' at?" Daryl asked, eyes cold. "Don' you people got better things to do 'sides stare at me?"

Glenn almost laughed, seeing the old Daryl for the first time since Merle came back. Andrea threw Daryl a knowing smirk before going about her business, the others following soon after. No one mentioned how happy they were that Daryl was still alive or how relieved they were now that Merle was gone but Glenn should see it in the way their shoulders sagged. Wordlessly Glenn pulled Daryl away, out of site, grabbing their meager medical supplies as they went. Daryl struggled against the death grip Glenn had on his bicep but it was half-hearted, Glen could tell because the older man could easily escape if he wanted to. Once they were well away from the camp site Glenn sat on the mossy ground, not asking Daryl to do the same but the hunter did anyways, close enough that their knees touched.

Daryl look haggard, Glenn noticed; tired and worn out and actually looking his age for once. There were bags under his eyes, skin pale and the blood covering most of Daryl's body didn't help matters. Glenn realized then how close he had been to losing Daryl forever and how badly he never wanted that to happen. Taking in a shuddering breath Glenn held Daryl's hand in his own, placing the older man's arm in his lap. The wound looked worse than it had the day before, red and swollen and probably past the point of infection. Tsking like his mother used to when he was a child Glenn set about patching Daryl up the best he could, iodine and half a tube of Neosporin the only things available and not nearly enough to be sufficient. Touching the injury probably hurt more than Daryl was letting on but Glenn had expected nothing less than the calm demeanor he was presenting. Daryl didn't usually let physical pain get the best of him.

There were so many things Glenn wanted to say:

I love you.

I'm so glad you're alright.

Please don't leave me.

But Glenn kept his mouth shut and his eyes trained on his task, biting his lip in his attempts to remain silent. Daryl was looking off into the distance, scanning their surroundings with the same constant vigilance he always had but the fingers of his free hand brushed against the crook of Glenn's elbow and everything just clicked into place.

Everything was ok. They were ok.

No matter what happened next.

Daryl went to work on the RV as soon as Glenn was done patching him up. No one bothered him or mentioned what had happened that morning and Daryl was grateful for the silence. The parts he had managed to salvage before the walker attack weren't exactly right for the old RV but would do for now, everything held together with two rolls of electrical tape and a whole lot of hope. Dale looked like he wanted to offer to help but every time the old man walked too close Daryl would send him a sneer and a glare and he would immediately back off. Daryl didn't want company, didn't want sympathetic words or reassuring hugs. He wanted to be left the hell alone.

Carl stood off to the side watching, kicking at the dirt with an anxious foot and as much as Daryl wanted to tell him to fuck off he couldn't find the energy to do so. Carl had seen Daryl during a weak moment and he wished he could take it back, make everyone afraid of him again because weakness got you killed. Weak was something Daryl couldn't be, ever. Merle taught him that. Merle was right.

They moved on later that day, everyone thanking Daryl for fixing the RV, voices subdued and actions cautious but their words were sincere.

Food was running low so Daryl showed Rick a park and camping ground that was on their route. He and Merle had hunted there in the past and knew there would still be plenty of game. Rick stood straight while Daryl spoke and the redneck could tell he wanted to say something but wisely stayed mute, instead telling Daryl to take the lead. Glenn climbed onto the back of the motorcycle, wrapping his arms around Daryl's waist in thoughtless motions that felt more comfortable and fluid than Daryl was used to. Yet he let himself bask in it for a moment, feeling Glenn pressed up tight behind him, body void of all tenseness it had gathered over the last few days. Feeling Glenn so at ease was enough for Daryl to put Merle out of his mind.

The bike's loud rumbling was all Daryl could hear as they rode, eyes peeled for danger and keeping track of how far they had traveled. With their gas reserves they should be able to make it to their destination before nightfall, allowing Daryl to get to sleep early to rise early; hunting was always best before the sun was up. He was tired of canned beans, he was sure everyone was, and just the thought of fresh venison made his mouth water. Merle had taken almost all of Daryl's camping gear, including the new quiver of arrows he had picked up at Wal-Mart, leaving him with five good ones; enough to hunt but not enough to survive on. He'd have to find some or make them, even though homemade arrows were never quite the same quality.

Glenn's arms tightened around his waist, the younger man's head coming to rest on his shoulder and for that brief moment it was just the two of them against the world. Sometimes Daryl wanted to leave the group, go off with just Glenn to the woods somewhere, built a little house, live off the land; it was all terribly domestic but Daryl was a loner and more often than not the company of such a large group put him on edge. But he knew he couldn't, knew the others would die without his hunting skills, knew they needed the extra manpower. And loathe as he was to admit it, Daryl kind of liked feeling needed.

As soon as Glenn had the tent set up Daryl was asleep, foregoing dinner and his customary goodnights to the others. Glenn checked on him once right before his shift on watch to find the older man dead to the world, sprawled on his back and snoring lightly. With a fond smile Glenn relieved T-Dog and sat perched on top of RV. Nothing happened. Glenn didn't see a single walker during his four hour shift and by the time he made it back to their tent the young man was ready for sleep. Stripping out of his jeans Glenn crawled up next to Daryl, laying his head carefully on the older man's chest, curling tight around his firm body. Glenn always felt safe with Daryl close, when he felt how warm and sold Daryl was.

"Hey, Chinaman." Daryl's voice was rough with sleep, one arm curing around Glenn's back to pull him closer.

Glenn hummed appreciatively.

"You should be sleeping." Glenn kissed the underside of Daryl's jaw.

"Woke up when you came in. Don' worry, I'll be out 'gain soon." Daryl sounded like he was half-asleep already.

"I'm glad Merle is gone." Glenn immediately regretted his words, felt the way Daryl shifted uncomfortably beneath him.

"You an' I both know he ain't gone fer good, kid."

Glenn thought for a second, tucking his head into the crook of Daryl's shoulder.

"I know." Glenn whispered in the darkness.

TBC…

A/N: Please review and let me know what you think!

Dropkicking Bullet Shells has a new Daryl/Glenn story out that's called Birds of a Feather that only has one chapter so far, but it is so good and the story is really promising. She's pretty amazing, so I would check it out. I would also suggest every other TWD story she has. Because like I said, she's amazing.

Also, Mlle T-Rex finished The Arrangement, which I totally fell in love with. So go read that if you haven't! On top of that, for a (very belated) birthday gift I'm writing a Daryl/Glenn story for them. As soon as I finish my long list of updates I'm working frantically to edit and post I'll be posting that one as well.

And finally thank you to those who have read Feral but were far too shy to review. I know it was an, er, intense story. I got quite a few PMs from people who were too embarrassed to review but wanted to tell me they liked it. And I know a lot of you didn't give any indication it was read. But thank you anyways!