𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

          "𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐎𝐊𝐀𝐘?" Casey's head shot up at the sound of Rick's voice. The next morning, he walked into the cell block, looking freshly clean, as if he had taken a moment to wash away the weight of their recent losses. The door to their cell block creaked as he opened it, the sound echoing through the otherwise quiet room, breaking the silence that hung in the air.

"Yeah, we are," Maggie replied, her voice steady.

Rick moved further into the room, glancing around to gauge everyone's state. "What about you?" Hershel asked.

"Yeah, cleared out the boiler block," Rick answered, his tone matter-of-fact, though Casey didn't look up at him. She couldn't bear to meet his eyes. Each time she did, the memory of his vulnerability, the way he had crumbled under the weight of sadness flooded back to her, stirring feelings of guilt that made her stomach twist.

"How many were there?" Daryl questioned from his spot nearby, arms crossed as he leaned against the table, his expression serious.

"I don't know. A dozen, two dozen," Rick replied, shaking his head as if trying to shake off the details of the gruesome task. "I have to get back. Just wanted to check on Casey and Carl." He patted both of their backs, a gesture of reassurance, before stepping away from them.

Glenn stood up, determined to contribute in any way he could. "Rick, we can handle taking out the bodies. You don't have to," he said, his voice filled with genuine concern.

"No, I do," Rick insisted firmly as he walked past them, moving over to Daryl. He took a moment to assess the situation before asking, "Everyone have a gun and knife?"

"Yeah, we're running low on ammo, though," Daryl replied, his voice tinged with concern.

"Maggie and I were planning on making a run this afternoon," Glenn continued. "We found a phone book with some places we can hit, look for bullets and formula."

Casey's ears perked up at the mention of a supply run. She glanced at Rick, quickly wiping her lips free of the powdered milk residue that lingered from breakfast. "Can I go?" she asked eagerly, her heart racing at the thought of getting out of the prison, even if just for a little while. The room fell silent for a moment as everyone considered her request.

Rick looked toward her, and she could see the wheels turning in his mind. He sighed, nodding his head slowly. "If you do what Maggie and Glenn say, I don't see why not." he instructed, knowing it would be good for her to get some fresh air and take her mind off the death of Lori.

"We cleared out the generator room. Axel's there trying to fix it, in case of emergency," Daryl informed Rick, keeping his voice low but steady. "We'll sweep the lower levels as well."

"Good. Good," Rick replied, visibly relieved to hear they were making progress on the safety of their surroundings. He turned to leave, giving one last glance back at Casey and Carl before he closed the cell door behind him. The sound of the metal door clicking shut echoed in the small space.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

          "𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐍, get that duck," Casey commanded, standing just outside the store, her eyes fixed on a small, soft yellow duck sitting on a shelf just inside the doorway. Glenn followed her gaze, his eyes sweeping the store for any signs of walkers. As the coast seemed clear, he gave a quick nod, keeping his body half-turned, ready to grab the toy without drawing too much attention.

"For you?" Glenn teased, a playful smile tugging at his lips as he looked back at her. He enjoyed these moments of humor, a bit of normalcy in a world that seemed anything but.

Casey rolled her eyes, her lips curving into a smirk as she shook her head. "No, for the baby. She's gonna need toys and stuff," she replied, crossing her arms like she was explaining the obvious. Despite her age, she was used to thinking ahead, a habit she'd developed early. The reality of their world demanded it.

He nodded, grabbing the duck from the shelf and tossing it gently over to Casey. She caught it with both hands, a small smile on her face.

Maggie placed gentle hand on Casey's shoulder. "Haven't seen you and your shark in a while," she said, her tone warm but curious. "Did you lose it?"

Casey's cheeks flushed, her expression suddenly shy as she avoided Maggie's gaze. "Nah, that's for little kids," she muttered, looking down at her shoes as she tried to brush it off. In her mind, she was no longer the kind of kid who carried stuffed animals around. She was nine years old, not a baby.

Maggie chuckled softly, she saw right through Casey's tough-girl act. But it was clear to everyone that, despite the armor she tried to wear, Casey was still a child, one who desperately clung to small tokens of comfort when no one was looking.

Glenn was walking further into the store as he said "Nothing wrong with being a kid." Casey rolled her eyes at his words, standing there, crossing her arms.

When Glenn came out, he had a large grin on his face. "We just hit the powder formula jackpot." He told the girls, showing what he had.

"Oh, thank God." Maggie sighed of relief as Glenn further explained what he got.

"I also got beans, batteries, cocktail wieners, many mustards. It's a straight shot back to the prison from here. Probably make it in time for dinner." Glenn stated as Casey looked into the bags with a grin on her face.

"I like the quiet. Back there, back home, you can always hear them outside the fence no matter where you are." Maggie stated as Glenn began packing up the car.

The quiet of the woods shattered as Merle's gravelly voice reached their ears. "And where is it y'all good people are callin' home?" His drawl, though familiar, sent a chill through Casey as she whipped around, heart pounding. A gun pointed at them, and they immediately drew theirs in return, tense and alert.

It took a moment for the figure before them to register fully. Dirty and scarred, with blood dripping from his nose, Merle Dixon stood there. Casey felt a surge of disbelief, her breath catching. He was missing his hand, and in its place was a blade.

"Merle?" Glenn's voice broke through the silence, laced with disbelief. They had all thought he was dead, left behind to fend for himself in Atlanta. Yet here he was, grinning as if nothing had happened.

Merle let out a rough laugh, and, with an exaggerated motion, he dropped his gun to the ground, holding his hands up in mock surrender. He staggered a bit as he stepped closer, eyes gleaming with a mixture of defiance and dark humor. "Hey! Back the hell up!" Maggie barked, her gun unwavering as she took a step forward. She didn't trust him, and her face showed no sign of warmth or recognition, just cold suspicion.

"You made it," Glenn muttered, his tone flat but his eyes blazing with resentment. The memories of Atlanta, of everything Merle had done, hung heavy between them. Glenn's gaze was sharp, almost challenging, daring Merle to try anything.

Merle tilted his head, giving him a sly, amused look. "Can you tell me, is my brother alive?" he asked, and for a moment, the arrogance in his voice gave way to a genuine flicker of concern. When no one answered immediately, his face hardened. "Huh?"

"Yeah," Glenn finally answered, his voice tight.

A deep, audible sigh of relief escaped Merle, and his hands dropped slightly. He shifted his stance, almost casually, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Hey, you can take me to him, and I'll call it even on everything that happened up there in Atlanta. No hard feelings. Huh?" He looked around expectantly, waiting for agreement, but was met with nothing but silence and stony glares.

Undeterred, he let out a hoarse chuckle, brushing off the tension. "You like that? Yeah. Well, I found myself a, uh, medical supply warehouse. Fixed it up myself. Pretty cool, huh?" His laugh was rough and hollow, more to himself than to them, as if he were grasping at some sense of accomplishment. Casey, still standing beside Maggie, watched him with narrowed eyes, her grip on her gun firm. She didn't trust him, and the anger bubbling up inside her was evident in the way her hand tightened around the weapon.

"We'll tell Daryl you're here, and he'll come out and meet you," Glenn said evenly, his tone betraying none of the frustration and anger he felt.

"Hold on. Just hold up." Merle took a step closer, causing Casey to instinctively raise her gun a bit higher, the barrel aimed directly at his chest.

"Whoa. Whoa," Glenn cautioned, his voice tense. He didn't want Merle to cross any more lines, knowing full well the volatile nature of Daryl's brother.

"Hold up here! Hold up!" Merle stopped, though his expression remained defiant. He looked from one face to the next, searching for a sliver of trust. "Hey, the fact that we found each other is a miracle. Come on now. You can trust me." His voice held a note of insistence, as if he were trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince them.

But Casey's glare didn't soften. Neither did Maggie's or Glenn's. They weren't about to lower their guard for him...

"You trust us," Glenn replied sharply. "You stay here." The words were final, a clear boundary that they wouldn't let him cross.

Merle chuckled, though there was something hollow in his laughter. He took out his gun and shot the trunk window of the car. Casey flinched, stepping away. He grabbed the little girl, taking her in his arm, pointing a gun at her head.

She struggled against his grip, grunting with each attempt to kick him off. "Let go!" she yelled angrily. In response, Merle pressed the barrel of his gun firmly against her temple, the cold metal sending a shock of fear through her. "Fuck you!" she shouted.

"Don't you got a mouth on ya, little girl?" he teased, a twisted smile creeping across his face as he tightened his grip as she was trying to break free, but his grip was relentless.

Just then, Maggie and Glenn appeared, weapons drawn, their eyes wide with shock and fear. "Let go of her! Let go of
her." Glenn screamed, nis volce rising with urgency. The sight of her struggling only fueled his anger.

"Put those guns in the car right now. Both of ya," Merle ordered, his tone leaving no room for disobedience. Reluctantly, Maggie and Glenn placed their guns inside of the car.

"There you go," Merle said, satisfaction dripping from his words. "Now we're gonna go for a little drive." His demeanor sinister. a sense of control enveloping him as he turned his attention back to Glenn.

"We're not going back to our camp," Glenn replied firmly, trying to project confidence despite the fear bubbling.

"No, we're goin' somewhere else. Get in the car, Glenn! You're drivin'!" Merle shouted, his voice commanding. "Move!"
As the gun pressed narder against ner head, Casey squeezed her eyes shut, fear threatening to overwhelm her. She could feel her pulse racing, every beat echoing in ner ears.

With a rough yank, Merle practically dragged her toward the vehicle, his grip vice-like as he pulled her into the backseat. She stumbled, barely able to keep her footing, and he shoved her Into the car, pinning ner against the seat. She fought against him, her instincts screaming to escape, but his presence loomed over ner, suffocating.

"Get in, Glenn!" Merle shouted again, his voice demanding, a cruel smile dancing on nis lips. He reigned the power he had, the fear he instilled in them. Glenn moved cautiously, slipping into the driver's seat, his heart pounding in rhythm with the weight of the situation.

"Don't do anything stupid," Merle warned, settling in the backseat seat beside Casey, keeping his gun trained on Casey in the back.

"Just drive. And remember, if you try anything, I won't hesitate."

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

A/N:

i just wanna apologize in advance.