"I ain't gon' take much more of this, Darylena."

Daryl just nodded sullenly, while Merle spat the words at him. Dean was building a house of cards in the corner, from some crumpled and dirt-ingrained playing cards that Glenn had picked up for him weeks back. He was too concentrated on his task to listen properly to their discussion, something that Daryl was thankful for.

The rest of the group were either in the shower block, or together in the open space, while the Dixons were up on Daryl's perch. The emptiness around them seemed amplified in the filtered light through the dirty windows, and the shadows of the bars flitted across Merle's face for a split second before he moved forward in his pacing.

"I… I don't know what ta do," He finally replied, squinting up at his brother, hunched over on the cold ground.

Merle just stared back at him, and he knew that his brother could see right through him, "It's time ta leave, Daryl, time ta find somewhere else. I ain't gon' stand fer sleeping in a cell much longer, with those people locking my son in every night. They talk a big game 'bout bein' good people, but at ta end of th' day, tha' cell door slams us in every goddamn night. We're not like them, Darylena – they don't get us."

The words cut Daryl to the core, and seemed to shred at his insides. But he couldn't come up with a viable defence.

"They jus'…"

"They jus' what? Need more time—time ta tighten tha' noose around my neck." Merle looked at him properly then, his expression almost pleading, and he let his gaze shift over to Dean playing happily, "This place ain't safe fer us, Daryl, not anymore."

He put his head in his hands for a moment, and said, "Wha', so ya want ta jus' leave?"

"It was yer idea ta give them an ultimatum, Daryl, both of us or nothing. They've made their choice."

Daryl let out a groan, and felt uncertainty envelop him. It was true, in some respects. None of the group, bar Jimmy, had uttered more than a few words to him over the past few days, and none of them had spoken to Merle. They were effectively being frozen out, and it had upset Dean when he'd realised.

"I know it was my fuckin' idea, I jus'… I didn't think tha' it'd come ta this."

Merle allowed him a few moments of quiet, before he sat down heavily beside him, "Ya know what we gotta do, Daryl. It's just us now. I ain't gon' let my kid grow up like a criminal."

.

Jimmy lay in his cell, having chosen to doze for the afternoon after being relieved of his regular task of distracting Dean in the morning.

At first, he hadn't paid any attention to Daryl's conversation with his brother. He had been picturing his farm back home, when the weather had been perfect and his only worries had been about passing school and working full time as a farm labourer. He could almost smell the meadow in all its fragrance. It was better to focus on things that he could just about picture, rather than realise fully that he could barely recreate his parents' faces in his mind.

But as he had been forcing the now-unfamiliar scenes back into his consciousness, he was jolted back to the present by one of their comments, "It's time ta leave, Daryl, time ta find somewhere else." Jimmy froze, barely breathing, and waited for Daryl to dismiss the idea.

They weren't aware of him as he started shaking, alone and curled up on his bunk, while one of the only people left who cared about him talked about leaving him behind. He pressed a hand against his mouth, already going cold, and listened as the conversation progressed.

"I know it was my fuckin' idea—"

Daryl was leaving, and he was taking Dean with him. Jimmy felt oddly numb as he processed this, staring at the blank grey wall across from him. He didn't know how he was supposed to feel, or what he was going to do when they were gone.

Jimmy remained silent as the men's words drifted off, and listened while Dean occupied their attention instead with his chattering. He wondered if they would break the news to the group, or just leave one night before Rick could lock them in.

He bit his lip and tried to picture the moment when he'd have to watch them disappear into the woods, and attempted to prepare himself for the breaking of his heart.

Not for the first time, Jimmy wished that he could just not feel at times—that he had the ability to shut down his emotions. Because the Dixons were going to leave, soon, and he was probably never going to see them again.

That was just the way things were.

As Daryl gathered Dean up into his arms, the little boy crying out and laughing as Merle playfully destroyed his card house, Jimmy didn't make a sound. He closed his eyes, pretending to still be asleep, even though it was clear that they didn't know he was there.

Just in case they looked in, he didn't want them to be able to see the tears that brimmed behind his eyelids.

The bed beneath him felt hard and uncomfortable, and Jimmy could feel the comics that he had been reading to Dean earlier digging into the small of his back. With his eyes still firmly closed, he slipped one hand into his pocket, and gripped the pocketknife that Daryl had given him months ago.

The steel that had been smoothed by months of use was as familiar to him as the weight of Dean's small body, and he thought that maybe he was lucky to have something to keep after the Dixons had moved on. That didn't stop his body from shuddering with the strength of one final sob though.

In the end, Jimmy managed to pull himself together and gather his thoughts while he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. As the stars and sparks danced in his greying vision, he accepted the fact that he was going to be left alone.

Alone in a crowed group, that was going to be him.

.

Daryl announced their departure at dinner that night. The whole group was gathered at one end of the room, eating sullenly, while he, Merle, and Dean were at the other end. Jimmy sat vaguely in the middle of both groups, helping Carl to sharpen a knife properly.

"We're leavin'."

The words grated against his throat, and the audible gasp that came from the others almost made him stumble in his resolve. Dean rubbed his hands against his face, curling up into Daryl's side, having already been told what was happening. Merle just sneered at the shocked faces, and leaned back in his chair.

Carol was the first to speak, though her expression already screamed volumes, "You can't—you can't leave. Daryl, what—what are you going to do about Dean?"

The little boy looked up at the sound of his name, and then went back to burying his face in Daryl's shirt, when he saw how everyone was looking at them. He opened his mouth to speak, to try and explain that whatever this was, it wasn't working, but Merle got there before him.

"Ya think ya can lock my kin up every night, like goddamn animals, and expect us ta stay? Ya think that we're gon' accept bein' treated like criminals—never mind me, but my fuckin' kid an' a man that ya saw fit ta trust with things, until now? Ya had yer chance ta get us ta stay, ya had time ta get used ta th' idea. But instead ya just acted like we went an' started this whole thing." Merle slammed his plate down on the table in front of him, and leered at the stunned faces in front of him, "Ya had yer chance."

It was only then that Daryl thought to look at Jimmy, realising that he'd never gotten the chance to explain things to him properly. He'd meant to ask the kid if he wanted to come along with them.

Jimmy's face was pale, strained, and he looked like something was physically hurting him. One hand was slipped into his pocket, and the other was tapping nervously against his leg, but subtly so that no one else could see. He looked like someone had died. Daryl narrowed his eyes slightly, knowing all the teenager's tells.

Then Daryl realised it: Jimmy thought they were just going to abandon him.

He felt his mistake wash over him like a cold wave, and immediately moved to reach out a hand towards him, "Jimmy, kid—"

But Jimmy just shook his head sharply, and stood up so quickly that his chair clattered to the ground underneath him. He was shaking, small tremors wracking his thin frame, "Don't," His voice came out strangled, and then he bolted out of the room.

Dean looked up then, to see Jimmy leaving, and cried out, "Jimmy, wait for me!" The kid was jumping down from Daryl's lap before he could stop him, and running after the teenager excitedly.

Rick stood up, running a hand through his hair and looking to the rest of the group, "Maybe we can work something more… permanent out, like—something where everyone feels comfortable, a—another cell block or… we can work something out, I—"

"Forget it, Rick," Merle said mockingly, "We're leaving. Be ready ta leave in an hour, Daryl." He stalked off then, in the direction of their cell, and Daryl was left alone with their weight of the group's stares.

He cringed under their eyes, and said gruffly, "Ya're not givin' me a choice. I ain't leavin' him, and—we can't stay here like this."

"But what about Dean…" Maggie insisted, and Beth ducked her head to hide the tears that were beginning to fall. Carol just looked betrayed, Hershel disappointed, and Glenn looked conflicted. He couldn't let himself get lost now though, things had progressed to far for anything else.

"I'll keep him safe, we'll—we'll find somewhere safe. He can't grow up seein' his daddy bein' treated like a criminal."

Daryl rose to feet slowly, refusing to meet any of their gazes. No one spoke, though there were several tears being shed. Carol whispered no, but it was too late. It was too late for words, for empty actions, when all the other ones had been so purposeful.

He felt heavy as he walked out of the common area, in the direction that Dean and Jimmy had gone.

They were in Jimmy's cell, and Dean came running out to meet him before he could get in, clinging tightly to him, "I don't want ta leave Jimmy behind—please, I want him ta come, I—we can't leave him, we need him, he's—Daryl we need ta—" Tears were leaking out of the kid's eyes, hot and fast, and he looked devastated.

"I know, kid, I know. I want him ta come with us too."

Jimmy looked up at that, from where he had been stoically separating his and Dean's things, almost doubtful in his expression, "You do?"

Daryl shook his head, sitting down on the edge of the bed, "We ain't leavin' you behind unless you want ta stay. You've more than earned your place with us, kid. We stick together, family sticks together. Jus' tell us what ya want ta do." Dean took that moment to fling himself into Jimmy's body, and wrap his arms around him.

"I... I'm coming with you."

.

That evening was one of the worst of Daryl's whole life.

They said goodbye to the others at the entrance to the prison, Merle waiting in the car, and it was so painful that Daryl had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep everything from spilling over. Most of the group were crying, begging them not to go, but no one was offering any other solutions.

Dean was passed around everyone's arms, and he wailed like he knew he'd never see them again. Jimmy awkwardly accepted hugs from the group, and he eventually retreated back to leaning against the car, Beth standing next to him, neither of them saying a word. She leaned into him, and he wrapped his arm around her.

Daryl remembered that the two of them went back since before the end of the world, when they were just two kids, and he had to look away.

Glenn came up to him then, the bruises on his face just about faded – but it seemed too late for words. Instead, Glenn just let a tear slip down his cheek, before shaking his head, "It wasn't supposed to be like this, Daryl," He eventually said, and Daryl couldn't have agreed more.

"I know."

Rick and Daryl stood side by side for the longest time, in silence, before Merle caught his eye from the car. They shook hands tightly, and there were so many unspoken words crackling in the atmosphere. If the circumstances had been even a fraction different, they could have avoided this.

But then Daryl forced himself to take a step forward, and a crying Carol pulled him into an embrace, Dean wrapped around her. He managed to detach his nephew, and whisper, "I'm sorry," into Carol's ear, before feeling the weight of his decision weighing down on him as he walked towards the car. They couldn't stay—they just couldn't. Merle wouldn't last much longer, living like that in the prison.

The group gathered around them once more, almost enclosing them, before they parted—and the three of them took the final few steps towards the car, feeling like something had just broken inside them, something that couldn't be fixed.

Merle mercifully knew well enough to keep his mouth shut, when Daryl slammed the car door behind him, and the car rolled forward without further ado. Daryl stared straight ahead, as Maggie and Glenn pulled open the gates for them, and Dean kept his face pressed to the back window. Jimmy just closed his eyes for a few minutes, biting down hard on his lip.

It felt like their world was ending again, for the second time.

The familiar sights of the prison exterior faded quickly, and the walkers on the roadside blurred into one. Dean fell asleep, exhausted from his crying, sprawled across Jimmy's lap. Merle had his knife already attached to his prosthetic, and it was leaning lazily against the steering wheel as he drove.

The car burned out quickly, after only an hour of driving, and despite their best efforts, none of them could get it going again.

So they siphoned all the petrol that they could out of it, and gathered their belongings. Dean clambered onto Jimmy's back in a well-rehearsed carry, almost like they hadn't spent the past few weeks safe and secure. They were back on the road again.

"Are we goin' ta find a house ta live in?" Dean asked after a few minutes of trudging silently through the woods. His hands were clasped in front of Jimmy's neck, and his head was resting on his shoulder.

Merle turned to look at him for a second, and whistled through his teeth lowly, "If that's what ya want, kid. Wha' kinda house do ya want us ta be lookin' fer?"

The child realised after a moment that this was his father initiating a game of sorts, and he began eagerly describing the kind of house that he wanted to live in, with a room filled with toys and all the other things that Dean associated with fun, like made-up card games, and comic books. He trailed off after a few minutes though, suddenly going quiet, and Daryl raised his eyebrows at him.

"Kid? What's wrong?"

"I jus'… I jus' miss the others already. Maybe—maybe when we find a nice house, they can come visit. Jus' fer a day. Maybe—"

Dean was cut off by a moan that originated from behind one of the trees, and he let out a whimper in response, before forcing himself to be silent. Daryl had his crossbow up in seconds, moving back to cover Jimmy and his nephew, while Merle walked slowly towards the noise, knife and gun raised.

His brother disappeared behind the tree, and there was a brief sound of squelching flesh, before a thud rang out and a body dropped from behind the tree. Dean had his eyes screwed shut, and Jimmy was holding him tightly with one arm, his other gripping his knife.

Merle looked grim as he walked back to them, and they continued on in silence.

Daryl noticed Dean twisting his head back to stare at the corpse for a split second though, and all he could think was, what are we doing?

.

By the time it was starting to get dark, they'd found an old convenience store to hole up in. The walkers seemed to be getting more numerous, and Dean was beginning to drift off to sleep, only to jerk awake with a muffled cry.

Daryl cleared the inside of the shop, while Merle covered Dean and Jimmy outside, and he dragged the bodies out the back door after a moment of staring down at them. Jimmy set Dean down on his feet when they made it inside, stretching out his back with a yawn, and Merle went to double check the back room again.

They slept on the hard, dirty ground that night, huddled together with either Daryl or his brother taking watch.

Daryl stared out of the grimy window for the duration of his watch, noting as the sky faded to pink streaks in the early morning. Walkers shuffled around outside, but their ranks seemed thinner than they had been the night before, and he wasn't too worried.

But then all he had to do was glance back down at the two smaller forms on the ground, and his heart would clench in his chest. He needed to keep them safe.

Merle took over for him sometime later, and the brothers sat together for a few minutes, "Beats th' hell outta a cell, huh, Darylena?" Merle said roughly, but he nudged Daryl lightly to get his attention properly, "I know tha' ya gave up yer group fer me, an' I wanted ta say tha' I didn't want it ta come ta this."

"That's what family does," He replied, without looking at Merle, but his words tasted hollow and foreign.

Then he settled down in Merle's recently vacated spot, and let himself get lost in the darkness for a few hours. He dreamed of the group, and of the feeling of safety that they'd felt during the first few days at the prison, before everything had started going wrong.

.

(The group will be back. And so too will the governor.)

Hope this chapter was okay—I was spurred on by the wonderful feedback from last week. It's nice to be back in the rhythm of this story. Let me know what you thought of this chapter, if you have the time. I'll get the next one up as soon as possible.

Thanks for reading,

ArmedWithMyComputer x