Chapter One

A/N: This story starts in the middle of season three, just after Lori has passed away, and will continue on beyond what we have seen so far in the show. There are plenty of Spoilers, so readers beware! I do recommend you have watched at least through season three before reading this. Well, here goes nothing! Enoy!

DARYL

Daryl walked out from the prison to one of the picnic tables set outside the prison. He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair before sitting on top of the table and looking out towards the area outside the prison fences. There were some walkers along the fence, but not many. They would be easy to take out. When they had found the prison, Daryl had been convinced that things would get easier from here on out. But now he wasn't sure. They had lost Lori, along with T-Dog and Carol. And now they had a baby to take care of. Daryl had gone on a run to get supplies for her, but they wouldn't last long. Someone would have to go out again soon. On top of the baby and Lori's death, Rick seemed like he was slipping. This wasn't something Daryl could have anticipated. Rick had seemed so secure before, their leader. Now, it seemed like Daryl would have to step up while Rick mourned Lori.

Daryl could understand. He understood completely. The only thing keeping him from slipping away was the thought that somehow, someway, she had survived.

Even thinking about her made Daryl's head buzz and his heart fill with an inexplicable emptiness. He thought about the last time he had seen her. Standing on top of the RV as the farm burned, her blonde hair turned orange with the light of the flames. The RV had been surrounded by walkers. Completely surrounded. As soon as he had seen where she was, he had known there were too many. He didn't have enough arrows, ammunition, or brute strength to save her from the horde surrounding the RV. His Annabelle.

He had tried. He had promised her that he would keep her safe. He had to try. But as soon as he got near the RV, Annabelle had screamed at him. Screamed and told him to leave. To do something she knew he wasn't able to do. He had known she was right. There were so many of them. But he couldn't accept it. He had paced furiously, yards away, looking for a break in their line, anything that might let him create enough of an opening that she could jump and run. But there was nothing. Just masses of walkers.

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the memory, but the images were burned in his mind. Her yelling at him to run and leave her. The only reason he had left was because Carol was waiting by his bike. And because Ruby had run up moments before. The sight of her sister on top of the RV had sent the spitfire brunette into a rage. She had charged at the horde, and fired several shots. Seeing Ruby run at the massive group of them had woken Daryl up. He ran forward and grabbed her, stopping her from running into certain death. He had locked eyes with Annabelle, who nodded to him. Ruby had started screaming. The most heartbroken, wailing cries that Daryl had heard. And Daryl's heart had broken too. She fought him and screamed, kicked at him and hit him until she had collapsed in his arms, and her screams turned to sobs that wracked her body. He had talked to her, got her to stand and had walked her to his motorcycle. He hadn't realized until he had started driving his motorcycle and he felt the cold dampness on his face that he had been crying too.

The only reason he thought that she might have survived is because of something that Rick had said when they all met up later. Apparently, he had seen her jump off the RV. She had gone to one side, to lure some of the walkers that way, and then had sprinted, leaped and cleared the smaller ring of walkers. But that was the last Rick had seen of her before she vanished into the sea of geeks.

Daryl had wanted to go back. But Rick had talked him into waiting. They had waited for her for several hours. When she didn't come, they all agreed that she was either dead, or far away at this point. Ruby had contested and fought their decision. Daryl didn't have the heart to say a word.

They had run all winter, and Daryl had hoped. With every door they broke down, every house they hid in. He hoped she would be waiting inside for him, and that she'd be safe in his arms again. That she would smile at him like she always did, and say his name. But she was never there. And every day that went by beat on him. But he kept going, kept surviving. He needed to. If she was out there, he needed to find her. And if she wasn't… Daryl tried not to think about that.

Daryl switched his mind to a different subject. The prison. He knew he had to step up and fill Rick's role, if only temporarily. It wasn't going to be enjoyable. He had just lost Carol too, now. The woman had been through so much, before and during the apocalypse. He respected her, and had developed a close bond with her. And she was gone. She had been alive, and then some asshole had decided to take it upon himself to enact 'justice'. After losing Carol, Lori, and T-Dog all in one day, Daryl couldn't help but to feel somewhat crushed. It seemed like no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop them from dying. He couldn't stop people from vanishing from his life. This fact had haunted him before the apocalypse, and now during it too, it seemed.

He was disturbed from his thoughts when a familiar voice broke the silence.

"Well hey there, handsome. Come here often?"

Daryl turned his head to see Ruby standing there, hands on her hips. He smirked at her words. "Every now and again." He replied.

The brunette was nothing like her sister. The only things they had in common were their good looks and accent. Ruby was a free spirit, to say the least. She was louder than her sister, rambunctious, and swore like a sailor. He supposed out of the two sisters, most people would assume that Daryl would end up with Ruby. After all, they were much more similar than he and Annabelle were. Daryl admired Ruby's spunk. But he had sold his heart to her sister years ago.

Ruby walked up and sat beside him on the table, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She handed him one, and lit one herself.

"We're gonna have to deal with those walkers." Daryl said simply to Ruby. She nodded in agreement.

"I'll help you later, if you want. I can take someone to clear the fence, and you can clear out solitary confinement." She replied. "I think Glen and Maggie are gonna go on a run."

"For the little asskicker?" Daryl responded after taking a drag on the cigarette.

Ruby laughed slightly. "That, and some other things. Nice name you've come up with."

"I think it's appropriate." He replied.

Ruby smiled distantly. There was silence between them for a few moments before Ruby spoke. "We can look for her. Once we settle in here. We can go search."

Daryl was silent. He didn't want to talk about her. Saying her name out loud hurt too much. "Yeah, ok." He finally replied. He wanted nothing more than to search for Annabelle, and find her safe and sound. But part of Daryl was afraid to go and look, and discover the truth of what had happened to the girl he loved.

"Do you think she's still out there?" Ruby asked Daryl after several moments of hesitation. Daryl nodded his head in response to her question. "How are you so sure?" She asked him.

"Because I have to be." He responded. Daryl refused to believe anything else. Losing Annabelle wasn't an option for him. She was what kept him going through all of this. The thought that somewhere, she was out there waiting for him.

"I wish I was as sure as you are." Ruby responded. "I just... It's been so long. And she's alone."

Daryl flicked his cigarette away and stood from the table. "She should've never been out there alone. I shouldn't have left her there. I should've stayed with her." With that, Daryl departed the table and began walking back toward the cell blocks.

"It's not your fault this happened, Daryl." Ruby called after him. "There was nothing any of us could do."

Daryl stopped for a moment and glanced back at Ruby before shaking his head and walking away.

He stalked inside of the prison and paced back and forth for a moment, steadying himself. He shouldn't let himself get so riled up about the subject, but he couldn't help it. They had been through so much, the two of them. He hadn't seen Annabelle for eight years before the apocalypse happened. Eight years. He had accepted he was never going to see her again. And then, just when things went from bad to worse, there she was. She appeared in his life again. He'd finally had her, and he'd promised to keep her safe. And then she was lost to him again. He'd lost so many people. He never intended to lose her.

Daryl finally calmed himself and walked forward into the cell block, deciding to check in on Beth and the Little Ass-Kicker.

He made his way to the area that had been created as the baby's makeshift play area until they got actual supplies for the baby. Beth was sitting on the bed in the cell, making soft cooing noises to the baby. She looked up at him and smiled when he walked in.

"She just woke up." Beth told him. "You have great timing." She stood and brought the child to him, and gently placed the tiny bundle in his arms.

She was so little. So tiny. Daryl hadn't been around a baby in a long time before this, let alone a newborn. She opened up her mouth in the tiniest yawn and made a squeaking sound before she reached up a hand toward Daryl's face. He offered her one of his fingers, and she gripped onto it tightly and continued to look up at him with wide, curious eyes.

"She likes you a lot." Beth commented as she walked up to stand beside him. "She probably remembers you were the first person to feed her."

"She's so little." Was all he said.

"She'll grow fast, just wait and see." Beth responded. She was silent for a moment, before she started to talk again. "Rick… Do you know what's happening with him?"

"He'll be fine. He's just dealing with a lot right now. But he'll be okay."

"Do you really believe that?" Beth asked him. She crossed her arms over her chest and moved closer to Daryl and lowered her voice. "He hasn't even come to see her. The baby. His own daughter."

Daryl shifted uncomfortably and glanced down at the baby and then back to Beth. "Losing Lori… It was hard on him. He's just trying to deal with that. He'll be back to normal soon, don't worry."

"I hope so." Beth replied. "She needs her father. Carl's been here, but she needs her dad."

"He'll come around. He just needs a little time is all."

"You should be leading us." Beth said to Daryl. Daryl looked at her, trying to hide his shock at her statement.

"Rick's gonna be just fine. We don't need to go around making changes. Everything'll be fine."

Beth looked at him like she didn't believe him, but the last thing they needed right now was for the group's morale to be shaken by this recent turn of events. He'd hold everything together for Rick for now. But if he didn't come back from his trip to crazy town, Daryl knew that his current position as the leader of the group may in fact become a permanent change.

Daryl walked through the cell block with Carl and Oscar behind him. They were making sure there were no more walkers left lurking around where they could bite someone. Maggie and Glen had left to go get supplies, and Ruby was with Axel clearing some walkers along the fence. They passed a door which was faintly moving. A single body was keeping it shut. Whatever was in there didn't have very much fight. They could get it later.

He walked along the hall, and looked to the young boy standing on his left. He hadn't seemed like more than a scrap when he had first met him, and now he was clearing walkers while his dad was off doing god knows what. Funny how things change. Daryl knew what it was like to lose your mother. He had lost his when he was young, too. She had been the parent that had taken care of him, mostly. She didn't do much. Especially compared to Carl's mother. But she was his mom. He still remembered it vividly. He had been twelve years old.

He started to tell Carl the story. It had been such a nice day out. He had been out, playing with the other kids for once. When Merle was around, he only ever hung out with Merle. But with Merle in the Juvenile detention center again, he was actually out and about.

"They all had bikes, I didn't." He explained to Carl. His parents had never really bothered with gifts or anything like that. "They all chased the sirens, hoping to see something worth seeing. I couldn't keep up. When I finally got there, it was my house that was in flames. There were fire trucks everywhere. All my friends were looking at me. Everyone was looking at me, really."

She had been there. Annabelle. She was standing with her father mother, and sister. They had seen the flames from their house and had been the ones to call 911. She had been standing at his father's side, and he had one arm protectively around the shoulders of each of his daughter's. Ruby was older than Daryl by a few years, but Annabelle was Daryl's age. Annabelle turned to look at Daryl as he walked up. Everyone did. He couldn't move. He saw the house in flames, and began to feel needles of dread prickle in his stomach. Annabelle walked up to him, and gently tugged on his shirt. He looked at her, and had to blink back tears several times before he recognized her. She was wearing a white sundress, and had ribbons in her hair. Annabelle Louise Miller. They hadn't talked really, before that day. But he knew who she was. Hell, everyone in their small town knew who all the Millers were.

"We should get away from everyone." She whispered to him. "Come on." She offered him her hand, and he took it. She led him away from the eyes of the town, and toward her parents and her sister. Her brother stood off, away from the rest of her family. He was the oldest out of the three Miller children. As Daryl walked up to them, Mrs. Miller placed a protective hand on his back.

They took him back to their house. It was a mansion compared to his house. But literally. Mr. Jeremiah Miller had made millions off of his cotton plantations in south Georgia. He lived in North Georgia because he liked the scenery better, Annabelle would explain to him later. They lived in a plantation style home, complete with a full wraparound porch and three stories of decadence. He had never been inside of their house until that day. But Daryl's parents didn't really have any family friends. So Daryl didn't really have anywhere to go. The Miller's had known that. He was thankful to them, for that day. They kept him out of the hands of the drama-hungry folks that lived in that town that could care less about the small boy who had just lost his home.

Mrs. Miller sat him down on one of the sofa's in their family room, and handed him a glass of sweet tea. He thanked her, but didn't drink from it. Across the coffee table, sitting on the sofa opposite him, Annabelle stared at him with big eyes, but didn't say anything. A few minutes later, she was ushered out of the room by her father, who appeared in the archway that led to the entrance room to the house with a fireman next to him.

"Son," Mr. Miller began. "This fireman wants to speak to you a little bit, about what happened today, alright?"

Daryl just nodded, still unsure of what exactly was going on. The fireman came over and kneeled in front of him, and began talking to him. He told him that a cigarette had caught the house on fire. One of his mothers. Daryl began asking if his mother was okay, and why she wasn't here with him. The fireman hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"Daryl, your mother's bed caught on fire. She was asleep. I'm sorry."

Daryl had felt like his world suddenly became very surreal. He must be dreaming. His mother wasn't dead. She couldn't be.

Daryl stared at the fireman blankly as the man continued to talk. Daryl wasn't hearing a word that he said. Eventually, the fireman said his name several times and Daryl finally jerked back to reality.

"I need to find out where your father is Daryl. Does he work?"

The first words that Daryl had said since he saw his house in flames came out of him. "Yeah. Over in town at the power plant."

The fireman looked like he was about to ask another question, and Daryl felt himself fill with misery. He didn't want to talk to this man. Just before he could ask the question, Mr. Miller interrupted. "Any other questions you have, I can probably answer for you. I think it's best we give the boy a break from all of this."

The man turned and looked at Mr. Miller for a moment before standing up and leaving the room with him. Just before the men exited the house, Mr. Miller called Annabelle to him from the kitchen. He exchanged a few words with her, before she walked into the same room as Daryl and sat across from him again. The men exited the house, and distantly Daryl could hear the low voices of women coming from the kitchen.

There was total silence in the family room for a few moments, before Annabelle finally spoke to Daryl. "Do you like horses?" She asked him. He was caught off guard, having been completely submersed in his own thoughts. "Yeah, I do." He replied. "Do you want to see some of ours?" She asked him. He didn't answer for a while, but eventually the words, "Ok." came out of his mouth. Anything to get him out of the house and into some space where he could breathe. The young girl stood up and walked out of the family room, and Daryl followed her.

They came outside to a large backyard. Daryl knew that her family owned a lot of land, but most of it was just riding trails and hunting land for her father. But this area was groomed and well kept. They walked a ways before they finally came upon a paddock, where a chestnut filly, not older than a year, was cantering in circles.

"This is my horse." Annabelle announced as they walked up to the fence. "She's not old enough for me to ride yet. But I can't ride ponies anymore. I've been using my parent's horses in the meantime. But my dad said when she turns three, she's mine."

"What's her name?"

"Dancer." Annabelle replied.

"What kinda horse is she?"

"A quarter horse. You ever ride horses before, Daryl Dixon?"

Daryl and Annabelle talked for a long time. Looking back, he couldn't thank her enough for that day. She'd kept him sane, kept his mind occupied so that he wouldn't have to think and rethink everything that had happened that day. Daryl's father came to pick him up later that afternoon, and Daryl said bye to Annabelle.

She was always kind to him when they saw each other after that day, but he had no idea what he was in store for when they actually became close years later.

Carl's voice jerked Daryl back to the present. "I'm sorry about your mom, Daryl."

"I'm sorry about yours." Daryl responded.

They continued through the cell block, checking each cell and killing every walker they found. They were almost done when Carl spoke again.

"She's alive, Daryl."

"Who?" He replied.

"Annabelle." Carl stated. Daryl stopped and looked at the boy for a moment, shocked he had said anything. Annabelle was a touchy subject that most people in the prison didn't talk to him about. Ruby was an exception, being that she was Annabelle's sister.

"Why do you say that?" Daryl finally answered.

"Well, you don't believe she's dead, do you?" Carl replied.

"No, I don't. I think she's out there somewhere."

"So do I. Annabelle was tough. That's why I didn't suggest her name for the baby. We can't have two Annabelle's in the group."

Daryl looked at the boy and felt a slight smile pull at him. The boy's confidence made him feel a little better. He was about to reply when he saw a walker appear out of the corner of his eye. He jumped back, alarmed, and fired an arrow. At the same time, Oscar and Carl both shot their weapons as well.

"He must've been in the last cell. We checked all the rest of them." Oscar stated as they went to go investigate the body.

Daryl looked at the walkers neck to see a knife sticking out of it. He knelt down next to the creature and felt his stomach drop as he looked at the knife that was gouged into its neck. It was Carol's knife.

Daryl felt a wave of sickness creep into his body. When he had found Carol's head scarf, he had accepted her death. But the knife now? That meant that Carol had been alive in this cell block. At some point, she had been walking these corridors, frightened and fighting for her life. He looked at the knife in his hand, and felt a strange sensation of emptiness begin to fill him. Any inspiration he'd just had from the small boy's courage was lost.

"Ya'll can head on back." He told Oscar and Carl.

"What about the last walker, behind that door?" Carl asked.

"Seemed like it didn't have much fight in it. I'll take care of it." Daryl replied. "You two go on and get cleaned up." Carl and Oscar nodded to Daryl, and began to walk away.

Daryl waited a few moments to hear their footsteps grow distant, before he turned his focus to the knife in his hand. He twirled the knife between his fingers, and turned heel to head back towards the last cell.

He sat in front of the door, and it moved just slightly. Daryl stared at the door, and stabbed the ground next to him with the knife.

It seemed like no matter what he did, he kept losing people. No matter how hard he fought, no matter how many bullets or arrows he used, he couldn't keep them all safe. He had lost everything, now. He cared about everyone in the group, but it was no secret that he felt closer with Carol. He had found a kindred spirit in her. And Merle. His brother was lost, most likely dead. Just like Annabelle. Annabelle was lost to him.

Daryl let out a cry of frustration and stabbed the wall. The worst part about all of it was that he would lose more people. It was inevitable. And the one's that went missing, he would probably never see again. He would probably never see Merle again. Or Annabelle. Daryl felt himself slipping, and he forced the morbid thoughts to the back of his head. He couldn't do anything about those that he'd lost, but he'd be damned if more died because he wasn't there to keep them safe.

Daryl finally stood, ready to tackle what was beyond the door. He put the knife in his mouth and grabbed the body that was blocking the way, and dragged it to the side. He armed himself again, and took a deep breath. As he exhaled, he regained his focus, and yanked the door open. When he saw what was inside, he couldn't have been more shocked.

Carol. Carol was in front of him. And she looked ok. Not like a walker. She looked up at him, her eyes dull from exhaustion. He took her face in his hand and inspected her eyes. She was definitely alive. And definitely very dehydrated. Daryl immediately pocketed the knife and picked Carol up in his arms. He walked back towards the main cell block, and with each step he took, he felt his strength renewed. He had accepted Carol for dead, and here she was, alive in his arms.

That meant she could be, too. She could be alive out there.

A/N: Thank you my lovelies for giving this story a chance! Reviews are greatly appreciated and they give me so much motivation. I will try to update as soon as possible, let me know what you thought.

This story will have different perspectives throughout the various chapters, and not all perspectives will be from characters within the prison. Additionally, this story will detail Daryl's backstory before the apocalypse, including his relationship with Annabelle.