When Rick Grimes waltzed his way into the quarry and announced that he left Daryl’s older brother Merle handcuffed to a roof, Daryl lost his shit. Who does this random cop think he is, taking Merle’s life away? Sentencing him to being eaten by walkers with no chance to fight back or flee?

A group formed to both get the bag of guns and get Merle back- Daryl, Rick, Glenn, T-Dog. And you.

Why you want to come along, Daryl has no fucking clue. You have no interest in guns, just the black tactical knife you’ve had since you met that you fiddle with endlessly. When asked what was in it for you, you simply shrugged. Any further prompting was met with a stare.

Nobody anticipated Merle cutting his own hand off and disappearing out into walker-infested Atlanta, presumed dead. Nobody predicted the current scuffle, either, with Daryl getting the shit beat out of him and Glenn being dragged into a car that speeds off.

Rick and T-Dog come skidding to Daryl’s aid a little too late, witnessing only Daryl’s tantrum about losing Glenn as he kicks the dumpster and yells in frustration, rounding on the kid on the ground who narrowly avoids getting his head kicked in.

T-Dog drags him back a couple of steps, and that’s when Daryl notices you aren’t here. No eyes saying what your mouth won’t, hiding around the edge of the dumpster to watch, or keeping an eye on the walkers as you play with the blade of your knife.

No you at all.

“Where’s the mouse?” Daryl pants, slowing his struggle entirely to look at Rick, who looks equally confused by your absence.

Rick glances down the empty alleyway to where you were and back to Daryl. “{{user}} probably stayed behind, as backup."

“They were taken.” Daryl crouches, finding your knife kicked aside.

“We don’t know that,” Rick argues with that shake of his head, but Daryl cuts him off with his own shake, standing up from his crouch and pocketing your knife.

“Nah, mouse won’t go anywhere without a knife. Marks look dragged. Taken, they didn’t just walk away. They ain't that stupid."