This takes place a few weeks after Merle's death. I love, love Daryl but who doesn't? However, I'm not a fan of Daryl / Carol or Daryl / Beth. I just don't see Daryl and Carol and I think maturity wise Beth isn't on the same level as Daryl. She grew up pretty sheltered and I just don't see that happening.

As much as I hate it, this will be a slow burn.

This is my first TWD fanfic. I do not own TWD or any of the characters other than my own.

Please review

It was nearing the end of fall as Daryl and Rick made their way through the woods. Daryl motioned for Rick to head left while he veered off to the right. They had been tracking a deer for about half a mile and Daryl was sure they were close but the trail seemed to split and it was in their best interest to separate.

Rick walked along as quietly as possible, trying to keep sign of the trail. As he made his way through the forest, he stumbled onto a blue backpack settled at the roots of a tree. Rick squatted down among the brush to inspect the bag. As he rifled through the bag, he heard a snap behind him. When he rose to stand and he was greeted with a blade against his neck.

"Drop the gun and walk away." A voice said behind him.

"Look, just take it easy. I'm going to turn around nice and slow." Rick replied cautiously.

"No, you're not. Drop the gun and walk away."

"Funny, I was going to say the same thing. " Daryl said from behind the girl.

Rick felt the blade fall away from his neck. The trio's attention shifted to their right; they watched intently as a young man erupted from the woods. He was maybe 22 years old; his dark brown hair fell into his eyes as he stepped into the small clearing. He rose his hands in the air as a universal sign of surrender.

"Please, let my sister go. She won't do anything."

"Damn it, Ben. RUN!"

"I won't leave you. I can't." The boy called to the girl.

"Ben? Benjamin Norton?" Rick asked confused.

"Shut up, Ben! Don't say another word!"

"Officer Grimes?" Ben asked, relaxing.

"Yeah, that's me. Most people just call me Rick now."

"You know these two?" Daryl asked, never lowering his crossbow from the back of the girls head.

"Yeah. They're okay, Daryl. Lower your bow." Rick waved him off.

Daryl lowered his bow as he stepped away from the girl and Rick. Everyone seemed to relax, except for the girl. Daryl noticed how she remained alert, her body tense in case of an attack.

Rick turned to her, "Finley? I wouldn't have recognized you if it wasn't for Ben, but I guess everyone looks different now. Are you two alone? Do you have a camp?"

Finley shot a warning glare at Ben, silently signaling him not to say a word.

"Fin, they're not going to hurt us. He's a police officer."

"No one is a police officer anymore. No one is anything anymore. Everyone is equal, just trying to survive."

"I just need to ask you some questions then maybe we can help you."

"What? Are we in the box now?" Finley bit at Rick.

"Maybe you should watch ya mouth. He's tryna help ya ungrateful ass." Daryl grumbled.

"Daryl, its fine. I understand."

"What are the questions?" Ben asked.

Finley didn't comment, but she continued to stare daggers at Ben.

"How many walkers have you killed?"

"What?" Ben asked.

"Walkers. The dead. How many have you killed?"

"15." Ben said. Rick turned to Finley, "And you?"

"I have no idea."

"He keeps count but you don't?" Daryl asked.

"I guess. I don't keep count, they're not alive and I do what I have to do to stay alive."

"She doesn't know because she's killed more than me. She lost count around 30."

"How many people have you killed?"

The air went quiet and the tension grew thick.

Ben spoke up, "I haven't killed any."

"Why?" Rick asked.

"Why? I said I haven't?"

"I know why haven't you?"

"I haven't had to."

"And you?"

"11." Finley mumbled.

"Why?"

"You haven't killed 11, Finn! You've only killed 3."

"Why?" Rick asked Finley again.

"I don't just go around killing people for fun; I did what I had to." Finley pushed past Rick to her bag, Daryl immediately brought his bow up aiming it at her chest. Finley turned to see Daryl standing ready; she rolled her eyes as she slung her pack onto her back.

"We're accepted or we're not. Either way we need to know, we need to get a move on."

"You can come. We've got a camp at a prison. Everyone contributes. Can you do that?"

"Yes." Ben said while Finley nodded her head once.

They began trekking through the forest in a single file line. Daryl led the way, followed by Rick, Finley, and Ben.

"So what were you doing out here?" Ben asked.

"We were tracking a deer until we ran into you guys." Rick answered.

"It's long gone by now with you loud ass people tramplin' through the forest. We won't be able to hunt for days." Daryl commented, stomping off.

"Yeah and throwing a temper tantrum will definitely help." Finley said under her breath.