Georgia Blues ::DarylDixon/TWD::

.:Chapter Two:.

.:Raelyn | Age 27 *Present*:.

The booming sound of the rifle rounds exploding into the air echoed down into the dark, narrow stairwell in even bursts.

It seemed like everything was happening in slow motion as I trailed after this group of strangers, scrambling our way upwards. My heart pounded in my ears, and I kept my eyes glued to a sliver of light that peeked through the crack of the door leading to the roof.

My mind was focused on that one crucial word that had come out of Andrea's mouth just a few seconds ago... Dixon.

Could she really be talking about one of my best friends? One of the Dixon boys, who I had been hopelessly searching for ever since this stupid bullshit first started? Maybe it was some other guy with the same last name...

But something in my gut told me it was one of them. I couldn't help but hope it was Daryl...

I had somehow managed to discover everyone's names just listening to them talk to each other, and T-Dog was first to burst out onto the roof, followed by Morales, the Hispanic man.

I was one of the last ones to trickle out from the stairwell and onto the rooftop, right behind Andrea and Jacqui, the African American woman. The bullets were still firing, piercing the air and working the group into a frenzy.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Merle, are you crazy?!" Morales shouted from somewhere across the roof top.

My pounding heart skidded to a screeching halt. Did I just hear that right...? I had to have heard it right. He said Merle... Merle Dixon. My knees felt like they would buckle under my weight at any second.

"Merle...? " I muttered just loud enough for Jacqui to hear, feeling my eyes grow wide.

"You should be more polite to a man with a gun!" A grizzly, swampy voice hollered back, followed by a dopey chuckle. "Only common sense."

That was him. That was definitely Merle... This had to be some sorta cruel dream. I'd be waking up in that little nook in the ceiling any minute now...

But as my weak legs carried me forward and my arms absent mindedly nudged everyone out of the way, I knew this was real.

"Merle...?!" My voice croaked out, and finally as I pushed past Glenn and Rick, the two men who found me, I saw him.

Standing up on the roof's ledge, holding a hunting rifle, was a tall, stalky redneck, dressed in jeans, boots, a black tank top with white bleach stains and a faded leather vest. His graying blonde hair was buzzed short, and a layer of scruff coated his cheeks and chin.

When I found his blue eyes with my green ones, I felt a jolt surge up my spine. It was really him. For a moment, I was slightly disappointed that it hadn't been Daryl... But just seeing Merle standing there alive and well, someone who wasn't a total stranger to me... It was the best damn feeling in the world.

"Holy shit," Merle said as a familier grin formed on his lips that was so contagious to me, "That ain't my little Rae'a sunshine, is it...?!"

He hopped down from the ledge, rifle in hand, grunting as his feet took the impact of his weight hitting the cement. I quickly staggered over to him, throwing my arms around his middle before his feet barely touched the ground.

Everyone else on the roof stood with their mouths shut, staring at Merle and I in confusion. Andrea and Jacqui seemed like they were more disgusted than confused, but I just ignored them.

"We thought you were dead, girl!" Merle told me as he pulled me out of the embrace by my shoulders. "Looked for ya for weeks before we just assumed."