Merle struggled with the handcuffs as he used his belt to drag the saw towards himself.

"Need some help with that?"

Merle's head snapped to the side and he saw a young woman standing above him, staring at him with slight amusement.

"What t'hell are ya doin'? Them damn things'll git through that door any minute!"

The girl glanced at the roof door. "No they won't; it's chained shut, and it's got a strong padlock holding it together. But, if it'll make you feel better..." The girl trailed off and dropped her bag by the stairs, pulling a knife out of her dark jeans. She snapped it open and made quick work of the walkers, then wiped the knife off on the leg of her pants and closed it, shoving it in her back pocket. She snatched her bag up and set it on the ground across from Merle then walked past him, hopping over the large pipe and digging through the spilled tools for something.

"What're ya doin'?"

The girl didn't say anything, she just hopped back over the pipe and crouched next to him, grabbing his handcuffed wrist.

"Git off me, woman," Merle yelled, yanking his hand back as best as he could.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "You want out of these handcuffs or not?"

Merle just glared at her so she huffed and used the tiny flat head screwdriver to unlock the handcuffs from the pipe, tossing the tool in Merle's lap when she was done and moving to sit by her bag.

"You're welcome," she muttered sarcastically when it was obvious Merle wasn't going to say anything. She dug around in her bag and pulled out two bottles of water, tossing one to Merle. "Sip that; you look dehydrated."

"How do I know ya ain't put nothin' in it?" Merle eyed her suspiciously.

"Oh dear christ, just drink the damn water. It hasn't even been opened, for fuck's sake. Just accept what little hospitality I'm offering and shut the hell up."

Merle glared at her again, but started sipping the water. "Ya got any food in there?" He asked once the bottle was half empty.

She huffed and raised her eyes to the sky, but she still pulled out a can of chicken and tossed it to him.

Merle pulled the top off and started eating it greedily and the girl eyed him in disgust when the water from the can spilled down the front of his shirt.

She pulled out a pack of cigarettes and put one in her mouth, using the lighter she pulled out of the pack. Merle was finished with his chicken and he wiped his mouth, now eyeing her cigarettes; she just rolled her eyes again and tossed him the pack. He lit one and threw the pack back along with the lighter; she glared at him and set the pack on her bag.

The two of them just sat there when they were done with the cigarettes, Merle leering at her. "Anythin' else ya wanna give me?" He suggested, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

She snorted and gave him a disgusted look. "No."

"Aw, come on, sweetheart, don't be like that," Merle said, moving closer.

She pulled a gun out of her bag and flipped the safety off, pointing it at his head. "Don't touch me," she said flatly.

Merle put his hands up and sat back against the pipe. "Alright, no need fer that, I c'n take a hint."

She snorted and muttered, "Obviously not," but she flipped the safety on and shoved the gun back in her bag.

They sat in silence for a while when they heard people running up the stairs, then four men burst through the door.

"Merle! Merle!"

"I'm right here," Merle said, looking up at Daryl. "This nice lady was jus' takin' care o' me," he grinned, wiggling his eyebrows at her again.

She scoffed and stood up, throwing her bag over her shoulder. "That's my cue to leave," she mumbled, walking back towards the fire escape she'd climbed over from.

"Wait, miss," Rick stopped her. "I'd like to thank you for-"

"Please don't," she cut him off, looking at Merle with disgust. "I'd rather just forget it ever happened."

"That's my brother yer talkin' about," Daryl growled, pointing his crossbow at her.

She flung her arms out to the sides. "So shoot me," she said dully, but Daryl didn't do anything. "Yeah, I thought not." She turned to leave, but Rick stopped her again.

"Where are you going? You could come back with us to camp, we've got-"

She let out a frustrated sound and whipped around, yelling, "I'm going to go blow my brains out, so if you don't mind, I would like to do it in peace!"

Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog looked at her with wide eyes; Daryl snorted. "Takin' the bitch way out, huh?"

She angrily dropped her bag and stormed up to Daryl, shoving at his chest. "If you'd like to do it for me, then go right ahead! Come on, I'm standing right here!" She lifted his crossbow so it was pointed at her again. "Go on! Shoot me, you fucking pussy!"

Daryl glared at her, holding the weapon like he actually would shoot her, but he just clenched his jaw and lowered the crossbow.

The girl lunged at him, intending to hit him, but Rick wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back. She kicked out at Daryl, trying to get to him. "Shoot me, god damn it! Just pull the fucking trigger! Is that too fucking much to ask?"

"Why do ya wanna die so bad, huh?" Daryl yelled back, getting in her face. "Can't handle the world anymore, you spoiled bitch?"

She yanked out of Rick's grasp and shoved Daryl back, but instead of hitting him, she just lifted her shirt; Daryl looked down and saw that a chunk of flesh had been ripped out of her left hip. "Now do you get it, you damn redneck? I'm gonna die anyways!" She yanked her shirt back down and turned to leave, but Daryl grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. "What? What do you want now, you stupid fucking-"

"I'm sorry!" Daryl yelled, shaking her lightly to get her to shut up. "I'm sorry," he repeated softly, squeezing her shoulders.

She clenched her eyes shut and tears started streaming down her face as she sobbed. "I don't wanna die," she whispered, head falling forward as her knees buckled. Daryl caught her and lowered himself to the ground with her, awkwardly wrapping his arms around her shoulders while she cried into his neck.

When she stopped crying, she pulled away from Daryl and wiped her eyes. She shook her head and let out a laugh. "I am such a bitch. I swore that I wouldn't cry about this," she said, smiling at Daryl.

He just smirked and stood, holding out a hand to help her up, which she accepted gratefully. She walked over to her bag and pulled the gun out, tucking it in the back of her jeans, then she pulled the knife out of her pocket and threw it in her bag, walking back over to Daryl.

"Here," she said, holding it out to him. "Take whatever's useful, you can just chuck the rest; I won't need any of it." Daryl just silently took the bag. "What's your name anyways?"

"Daryl. Daryl Dixon."

The girl leaned forward, pressing her lips against Daryl's, smiling when she pulled back. "It was nice meeting you, Daryl Dixon." Then she turned around and climbed over to the fire escape on the next building over, climbing up the stairs. When she reached the top, she heard Daryl call up to her. "What?"

"What's yer name?"

She smiled down at him. "Rachel."

Then she disappeared over the edge of the roof and moments later the men heard a gunshot. Daryl winced and tightened his grip on the backpack she'd given him.

The men got the guns with no problems and they spent the ride home in silence.

Weeks later, when Daryl sat under a tree on Hershel's farm, he pulled Rachel's bag out and looked through the photos that were in there, just like he'd done hundreds of times before. He'd only known her for ten minutes, but he knew he would never forget her.