So I haven't written a story in FOREVER annnd, well I decided to write one. I really should be writing a 10-12 page paper on Samuel Beckett and Jean Genet, but whatevs!

Anyway, here's the tale of Daryl Dixon, cuz obviously no one writes any stories about him, so I decided to take this opportunity. Haha...I'm a dork. Ignore me.

So, this is an alternate story about the search for Sophia. In this story it further explores the relationship between the child and the weird redneck, and his desperation to find his first and only friend.

Chapter One: The Begginning

There was something weird going on in the nursing home that day. Daryl walked from work to visit his mother, something he made sure he did every day. God forbid Merle ever take five minutes to visit his own mother. Whatever! Anyhoo, some of the nurses seemed to be sick with fever.

Then, out of friggin nowhere, this motherfucker came staggering toward him. Blood seemed to be pouring out of every pore in his face. Daryl was stunned at first. The guy didn't look like he should be alive! Out of reflex he grabbed the guy by the head and snapped his neck. He was immediately shocked by his own actions, and stumbled back a bit, trying to control his breath and plan out a way to explain the situation should someone walk in on him at the moment. He was quick tempered, like his brother...but he would never kill anyone for no reason. Especially not a sick person, so why did he do this? He just murdered someone…or so he thought at the time. He started to fear himself in that moment.

"Daryl," said a voice from behind him. Daryl didn't register anyone was talking to him at first, so he didn't respond.

"Daryl!"

"What?" he turned around and saw Nurse G, who was probably the nicest woman he knew besides his mother. He immediately felt bad, but couldn't seem to form words to apologize, because...well...Daryl's just terribly socially awkward...and he just killed someone. So, he mumbled an almost inaudible, "Sorry...", and a slightly more audible, "I- I think I just killed someone."

"Daryl, I have to make this quick. I have a fever. I'm not going to make it much longer. Something's going around and I'm not sure what. That sick man over there was one of our staff. He got bit by...I can't really explain it. We're trying to keep everyone as safe as possible. We quarantined the elderly as best we can in the dining hall. They said on the news that something has been going around. Some sort of virus."

"What are you talking about?"

"There's been an outbreak of sorts. It started in Washington D.C. A few days ago. Have you seen the news?"

"I don't own a T.V."

"Well, people have been talking about it."

"My brother and I were out on a hunting trip this weekend."

"Ok, honey. Well, it seems like people are dying and coming back to life from this virus. Only, they're not coming back complete. Their basic motor functions are there, but everything else is gone. Their only driving force to live, it seems, is to feed. Honey, there's no time to explain. Just get your mother, and get her out of here. Make sure you don't get bit. That's how the infection will start."

Daryl nodded and started to go, but turned around. As soon as he did he realized that the sick man (that he was so sure he'd just killed) miraculously got back up and started stumbling towards Nurse G.

"Run, Daryl! Just Run!"

And Daryl did. He ran toward the dining hall which was padlocked shut. He'd have to get something from home to open it back up.

He quickly turned around and ran toward the front door. Before he opened it he saw the most horrific site out the window...Some dude, just as bloody as the sick staff man, was attacking a mother and child. Only a few feet away, some guy was trying to bat another man away with a steel baseball bat. Across the street, there were three of these crazies trying to break into a store. A strong sense of urgency alerted Daryl that he needed to get his mother and leave as quickly as possible. He had to find Merle and get as far out of town as possible.

Daryl, hesitantly, opened the front door and made a run for his car. Dead bodies were littering the street. How did this all happen within the 10 minutes he was inside? How did he not notice this as he was coming home from work? How could this all be happening so fast?

As Daryl was running to his car he could see one of the maybe ten dead bodies on the street start to get right up. Daryl speed up his place. His car was still at the parking lot of the auto shop where he worked down the street. As he was running up the block he saw Merle coming toward him.

"Merle!"

"Daryl, get your crazy ass back in the auto shop! We're grabbing our stuff and leaving here."

"Yeah, but we have to get Ma out first."

"We're getting out of here Daryl, I'm not taking no for an answer."

"Fuck off Merle! You go 'head. Get your selfish ass out of town. I'm getting Ma!"

"Suit yourself, you son of a bitch!"

Daryl was really not that shocked by Merle. He knew his older brother was a selfish coward, but he had no time to argue. He had to get to his car and drive back to the nursing home to get his mother.

"Boys! Come in here, it's dinner time!" called Gayle from the kitchen window. Her boys were outside trying to fix their father's car. Benjamin Dixon died only three days ago from alcohol poisoning. It was a sad time for the Dixon family, but there was a different air about the house with her husband gone. Things seemed to be a lot calmer and quieter. Her 22 year old son, Merle, was probably the most devastated. He idolized his father in a number of ways. He was Ben's golden child, and he was continuing the family auto shop business. Daryl, on the other hand, was a disappointment to him. When he was younger, instead of going outside for hunts or to learning how to fix cars, he would sit inside and read. That would result in a lot of emotional abuse from his father. Eventually, when Daryl was around 12, his father started hitting him in addition to calling him a worthless pussy. Gayle would try to intervene when she could, but often times she would get hit instead. Daryl, always being the protective one, stopped her from intervening between the spats he and his father got into. He never wanted his mother to be hit because of him. It wasn't right for his father to hurt her at all.

Gayle was a victim of Ben's drunken abuse for years to that point. She couldn't help but stay with him because Ben wasn't all bad. He had his good moments, but when he was bad, it was brutal. Gayle was honestly scared to leave him because who would protect her baby then?

Daryl was a child who just wanted to draw and read books sometimes. He didn't have the natural brutality of his father or brother. Eventually, though, Daryl found the need to prove something to his father. When he was thirteen he started to take more interest in hunting and learning about cars, hoping that would make the drunken beatings and harassment less frequent...which was true for a while. But then Daryl started noticing that since his father had less reason to beat him, he turned back towards his mother. So, Daryl started to rebel a little...by being better. The better he became at hunting, the more jealous his brother and father were of him. The better be became at repairing cars, the more customers at the shop would tip him. This also made his father envious. So, his father told him when he was 14 or 15, "So you think you're so smart, huh? You think you're a smart bastard, aintcha? Well, if you're so smart you probably don't need school then, huh? From now on, you pompous prick, you're working for me."

"But Dad..."

"Oh, and if you keep up with you're smart ass mouth of yours, don't expect me not to discipline you!"

"You're the prick," Daryl mumbled.

"What? What did you say to me?"

"You're the prick, DAD!"

SMACK!

Daryl stumbled from the punch to the jaw. His father then grabbed his hair, which was long back then, and pulled him up.

"I'm not your father, you fucking bastard."

"W-what?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," he spat out sarcastically, "You've never been informed? You're a son of a whore! Your bitch of a mother cheated on me with another man, and guess what? He's dead now."

That was news to Daryl...and it made a lot more sense. But, he made the decision then that he had no choice but to listen to his "father" and stop coming to school. Daryl was devastated by it, but if that kept Ben away from his mother, then he would do it. Of course, the principal started calling the house, eventually. Daryl's mother told the school that she was taking him out and homeschooling him. However, Ben kept Daryl at work as much as possible, and Daryl began to become more secluded. He soon stopped talking altogether.

That all changed the day of Ben's death. Daryl said his first word in four years at his funeral. He walked silently up to the casket and said, "Good riddance, you son of a bitch", and walked out.

Anyway, today his mother watched lovingly at her sons working together outside. When she called in for them for dinner, Daryl finally noticed how hungry he was.

"Daryl?" Merle spoke for the first time in hours.

"Yeah Merle?"

"It's good to hear you talking again, brother."

Daryl smiled and lightly punched his brother in the shoulder, "Shut up, Merle."

The boys walked inside where there mother was waiting with a pan of meatloaf in her mitted hands.

"Smell's good, Ma," remarked Daryl, giving his mother a kiss on the forehead.

"It's so good to hear your beautiful voice again, my darlin'," Gayle replied with a smile. She set the meatloaf down on the kitchen table and wiped her hands off on her apron that was covering her jeans.

"Alright, now eat!"

During that first year or two they were one happy family again...but after that year Merle started drinking and getting into drugs. Daryl thought it was because with his father gone. He got a lot less attention, and with Daryl now talking again, their mother was doting on him whenever she could. Daryl was sure that this kind of hurt Merle, and assumed that was the reason his brother turned to whatever he thought he could depend on and get his mind off things...hard drugs and alcohol. His temper got shorter and his personality was more brutal. There were often times Merle almost started throwing punches at his own mother. It was Daryl, obviously, who protected her and made sure she never received a single punch. Daryl knew this wasn't the real Merle. He was in there somewhere. This was just the side of Merle that was his fathers...and it only came out when he was using.

Eighteen years have gone by since then. It was ten years ago that their mother contracted Alzheimer's at the age of 58. She was so young. Ever since then it has been Daryl that visited and took care of her. Daryl was never able to go back to school and just stayed home to help with the auto shop and take care of his mother.

Daryl, even though he knew Merle was probably using at the moment and paranoid out of his mind, still couldn't believe that he just left. He left without even a "good luck".

Fucking Bastard.

Eventually, Daryl was able to get to the car and drive it back to the nursing home. Luckily his gun was in there and he shot whatever got in his way. By the time he got back into the nursing home it was a scene from a horror movie. Not one of the staff that wasn't quarantined was alive. Some weren't zombies yet, but from what Daryl saw, he knew they would be, so he shot every walking dead thing he saw.

When he finally got to the dining hall he broke through the padlock and got to his mother.

"Ma? It's Daryl."

"Merle? I need to get out of here. I need some fresh air."

"No, Ma. It's Daryl. Listen we need to get to the car and run. You think you can do that?"

"Oh, Daryl. I'm sorry, baby."

"Ma. We have to leave! Now."

Daryl didn't wait for her to answer. He just hoisted her over his shoulder and started to run towards the street. As the walking dead things approached he shot them before they could get any closer. Quickly he realized just shooting anywhere wasn't affective. He had to shoot them in the brain.

Once he got his mother in the car, Daryl put the petal to the metal and zoomed out of there as fast as possible.

The first twenty minutes of driving wasn't so bad, but the scene was bringing him close to tears with panic. Once he got on the highway, however, it was backed up. It became pretty clear that he was getting nowhere fast. It was evident that they would have to camp out there during the night. But it wasn't long before one night turned into two nights...and three nights. By the fourth night they weren't making much progress. It seemed like everyone in the state was on the freeway. They must have made a mile in progress, but that was about it. Everyone was going toward Atlanta.