De Ja Vu It Right

The truck hummed steadily as it rolled down the highway, the sound of its engine blending with the occasional rustle of wind through the trees. Daryl focused on the road ahead, his hands firmly gripping the steering wheel. In the passenger seat, Merle sat with an unusually calm expression, his gaze fixed on the horizon. In the back seat, Carol and Sophia were huddled together, Sophia holding tightly onto her black leather backpack with silver wings and a tiger cub emblem. The air in the cab carried a quiet but powerful sense of purpose—a shared resolve to make the most of the second chance they’d been given.

Merle shifted in his seat, breaking the silence, but his tone was softer than usual—steady and thoughtful. “Carol,” he began, glancing back at her through the rearview mirror. “I... I need to say somethin’.”

Carol looked up from where she was gently smoothing Sophia’s hair, her eyes curious but calm. “What is it, Merle?” she asked.

Merle hesitated, his fingers tapping lightly on his knee before he found the words. “Back in the other timeline... I didn’t do right by you or Sophia,” he said slowly. “I knew what Ed was doin’. Hell, we all knew. And I didn’t step in. I didn’t stop it. I should’ve done somethin’—anything.” His voice carried the weight of regret, and his usual bravado was nowhere to be found.

Carol’s expression softened, and she reached over to place a comforting hand on Sophia’s knee. “Merle,” she said gently, “you don’t have to—”

“No, I do,” Merle interrupted, shaking his head. “I was too busy lookin’ out for myself, bein’ a selfish bastard. I let you and that little girl suffer when I could’ve stepped in. I ain’t proud of it—not one damn bit.”

Sophia looked up at Merle, her wide eyes filled with understanding far beyond her years. “Uncle Merle,” she said softly, “you’re here now. That’s what matters.”

Merle’s gaze shifted to her, and for a moment, the usual sharpness in his expression melted away. “Yeah, kid,” he said, his voice rough but sincere. “I’m here now. And I swear I ain’t gonna let nothin’ happen to you or your mom again. That’s a promise.”

Carol’s lips curved into a faint smile, her tone warm but steady. “Thank you, Merle,” she said. “It means a lot to hear you say that.”

Merle nodded, his jaw tightening as he looked away, visibly uncomfortable with the vulnerability of the moment. Daryl, who had been quiet up until now, glanced at his brother and gave a small nod of approval. “’Bout time you started talkin’ like a man,” Daryl said gruffly, though there was no bite in his words.

Carol leaned back in her seat, her hand still resting on Sophia’s knee. “There’s something I need to tell you all,” she said, her voice calm but carrying a weight that made everyone in the truck turn their attention to her. She reached down and unzipped her black leather backpack, pulling out a folder and a small box. “Sam left us everything we needed—documents, tools, cash. A fresh start.”

Sophia perked up, watching her mom closely as Carol began to explain. “The paperwork… well, it changes everything,” Carol said, holding up the first document. “This is an annulment paper. It ends my marriage to Ed—the day after we got married. And there’s also a restraining order that means Ed can’t come near me or Sophia ever again.”

Sophia’s eyes widened, and she leaned closer to her mother. “Really?” she whispered, her voice a mix of disbelief and hope.

Carol nodded firmly, giving her daughter a reassuring smile. “Really, sweetheart. He’ll never hurt us again. Not ever.”

Merle let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Well, hell,” he muttered. “’Bout time someone put that bastard in his place. Good riddance.”

Carol smiled faintly, setting the papers aside as she pulled out another document. Her cheeks flushed slightly as she looked at it. “This,” she said, holding it up, “is a marriage certificate. For me and Daryl. It’s dated nine months before Sophia was born.”

Daryl’s grip tightened briefly on the steering wheel, though his voice remained steady when he spoke. “That right?” he murmured, glancing at Carol in the rearview mirror.

Carol met his gaze, her smile soft but confident. “Apparently,” she said. “Sam took care of everything.”

Merle, ever the joker, let out a laugh. “Well, look at you, little brother,” he drawled. “Went and got yourself hitched without even knowin’ it. Congrats to ya both.”

Daryl rolled his eyes but smirked faintly. “Don’t you start, Merle.”

Carol chuckled softly and opened the small box she’d pulled from her bag. Inside were two simple gold wedding bands—the men’s band engraved with a tiger, and the women’s band with a crossbow. She held them up briefly before setting them aside.

“And for Sophia,” Carol continued, glancing at her daughter, “Sam left something just as special.” Sophia sat up straighter, her small hands brushing the hilts of her daggers tucked safely into their invisible sheaths. “She already knows about her daggers, and she’s wearing them now. I promised to teach her how to fight with them, to defend herself.”

Sophia smiled, her purple bracelet glinting in the sunlight as she added, “Mom said they’re invisible to everyone but people I trust. And only I can pull them out. They’re magic.”

Merle raised an eyebrow, genuinely impressed. “Magic daggers, huh?” he said, his voice almost reverent. “Well, I’ll be damned. Guess that makes you one hell of a little tiger cub.”

Sophia giggled, clearly pleased, as Merle turned to Daryl with a grin. “Sounds like we’re gonna have to teach this little one everythin’ we know, huh? Can’t have her runnin’ around with magic daggers and no clue how to use ’em.”

Daryl nodded, his tone quiet but firm. “That goes for both of you,” he said, his gaze shifting briefly to Carol. “Fightin’, weapons, huntin’, survival—anything we know, you’ll learn it. Ain’t no Dixon goin’ unprepared.”

Sophia beamed, her excitement bubbling to the surface. “Really? You’ll teach me everything?”

“Everything,” Daryl promised, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

Merle smirked, his blue eyes twinkling with determination. “Don’t you worry, little cub,” he said. “Uncle Merle’s got ya covered. By the time I’m done with ya, you’ll be a force to be reckoned with. Ain’t nobody gonna mess with my niece.”

Sophia smiled brightly, her small fingers curling around the tiger cub emblem on her backpack. “Thank you, Uncle Merle! Thank you, Papa Daryl!”

Carol’s eyes shone with emotion as she looked at both men. “You know,” she said softly, “Sophia and I can help you too, Merle. Keep you on the right path. Away from the drugs and trouble.”

Merle blinked, her words catching him off guard. He glanced at Carol, then at Sophia, who was smiling at him with genuine affection. “Y’all really wanna do that?” he asked quietly.

Carol nodded without hesitation. “We’re family now, Merle. We’ll look out for each other.”

Sophia reached forward, her voice sweet and earnest. “I’ll help you too, Uncle Merle. I promise.”

For a moment, Merle didn’t speak, his throat tight with emotion. Then he nodded, his voice rough but steady. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s do this right. Together.”

The truck rolled on, carrying them toward their next destination—and toward a new beginning that felt brighter than any of them had dared to hope for.

---TWD---

The pickup truck rolled to a stop in the dealership parking lot, the sound of crunching gravel fading as Daryl cut the engine. For a moment, the truck’s occupants sat quietly, taking in the rows of gleaming vehicles spread out before them under the bright afternoon sun. Sophia leaned forward slightly from the back seat, her fingers clutching the straps of her black backpack. She glanced at Carol beside her, then at Daryl and Merle in the front, a flicker of apprehension crossing her small face.

Daryl opened his door, his boots hitting the ground as he stepped out to survey the scene. Merle followed suit, stretching his arms above his head before leaning back against the side of the truck. Carol shifted to unbuckle Sophia, but before anyone could move further, Sophia spoke up, her voice tentative but steady.

“Wait,” she said softly, looking down at her lap as she fidgeted with something in her hands. “I have something for you. For Papa Daryl and Uncle Merle.”

That got everyone’s attention. Daryl turned around, his brow furrowed in curiosity, while Merle cocked his head, his expression softening slightly. “What you got there, little cub?” Merle asked, his voice lighter than usual.

Sophia unzipped her backpack, pulling out the small bag of bracelets Sam had left for her. She hesitated briefly before taking out two—one with Daryl’s name engraved on it and the other with Merle’s. The purple bracelet on her wrist caught the sunlight as she looked up, a small but determined smile tugging at her lips.

“These are for you,” she said, holding the bracelets out in her tiny hands. “Uncle Merle, Papa Daryl... I want you to have them. They’re special. They’ll help me find you if... if something bad happens. And they’ll help you find me, too.”

The weight behind her words silenced the group for a moment. Carol reached over to rest a hand on Sophia’s shoulder, her eyes shimmering with pride. Merle knelt down to Sophia’s level, his rough features unusually gentle as he accepted his bracelet.

“Hey now,” he said softly, slipping the bracelet onto his wrist and watching as it adjusted to fit him perfectly. “Ain’t nothin’ bad gonna happen to you, little cub. You got me, your momma, and your papa watchin’ your back. Still,” he added with a faint grin, “I’ll wear it. Makes me feel like I’m in your little crew.”

Sophia giggled as Daryl reached over to take the other bracelet, his expression unreadable for a moment as he turned it over in his hands. He slipped it on without a word, the silver band fitting snugly around his wrist. Looking down at Sophia, his voice softened. “Thank you,” he said simply, his tone carrying more weight than the words themselves. “You’re part of our crew now, too. Always.”

Sophia beamed, her confidence growing as she relaxed back into her seat. Merle straightened up, his hands on his hips as he looked over at Daryl. “Alright, Papa Dixon,” he drawled. “How we doin’ this? We splittin’ up to find the rides or goin’ in all together?”

Before Daryl could answer, Merle’s sharp gaze turned back to Sophia, who was still clutching the straps of her backpack. He raised an eyebrow, his tone softening again. “Hey, kid,” he said, “how ‘bout we make this a little more fun?” He crouched down slightly and held out his arms. “You mind if I carry you around for a bit?”

Sophia blinked, clearly surprised by the offer, but she nodded quickly, her eyes lighting up. “Okay,” she said quietly.

Carol watched the exchange, her lips twitching into a smile as Merle carefully picked Sophia up and settled her on his shoulders. He stood easily, his hands steadying her as he took a few steps to get a feel for the added weight.

“Well, now,” Merle said with a chuckle, glancing up at Sophia. “You’re lighter than I thought. Ain’t nothin’ compared to the packs I hauled in the Marines—hell, even when I was carryin’ sniper gear. This is easy.”

Sophia giggled, her small hands gripping his shoulders as she looked down at him. “I bet you were really strong back then, Uncle Merle,” she said brightly.

Merle puffed out his chest slightly, his grin widening. “Still am, little cub. Still am.”

Daryl shook his head, a faint smirk on his face as he turned toward the rows of trucks. “Alright, enough showin’ off. Let’s get this done.”

With Sophia perched securely on Merle’s shoulders, the group began their search, walking up and down the rows of vehicles. Merle carried Sophia the entire time, barely breaking a sweat as they stopped to inspect different options. Each time, he’d glance up at her to ask her opinion, making her feel like the most important part of the decision-making process.

“What d’ya think, kid?” Merle asked as they stopped in front of a shiny silver Silverado with a double cab and extended bed. “This one’s lookin’ like a winner to me.”

Sophia tilted her head thoughtfully, her fingers resting on Merle’s as she studied the truck. “It looks really strong,” she said. “I think it’ll carry everything we need.”

Merle grinned, nodding. “See? Told ya you got good eyes.”

Daryl inspected the Silverado closely, running his hands over the tires and checking the suspension. “Looks good,” he said after a moment. “Let’s add it to the list. What about trailers?”

Carol chimed in, gesturing toward a sturdy dual motorcycle trailer parked nearby. “What about this one? It looks like it can handle both bikes.”

Merle strode over, Sophia still perched on his shoulders. “Good eye, darlin’,” he said, giving Carol a nod of approval. “That’ll do just fine.”

The group continued their search, eventually agreeing on a black Ford F-250 with an extended bed and a utility trailer big enough to carry the greenhouse kit and any extra supplies. Throughout the entire process, Merle carried Sophia without complaint, even making her laugh with stories from his Marine days.

By the time they finalized the deals inside the sales office, Merle was still going strong, Sophia happily perched on his shoulders as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

“You know,” Merle said as they walked back outside, his grin mischievous, “carryin’ you around all day’s been easier than I thought. Hell, it’s a cakewalk compared to the gear I used to lug in the service.”

Sophia giggled, leaning down to hug his head. “You’re the best, Uncle Merle,” she said sincerely.

Merle’s grin softened, and he glanced at Carol and Daryl, his voice quiet but firm. “Damn right I’m gonna be.

The lot was buzzing with quiet activity as the group worked together to transfer everything from the old pickup into the beds of their new trucks. The bright sun glinted off the shiny silver Chevrolet Silverado and the rugged black Ford F-250, both parked side by side, ready to carry the weight of the mission ahead. Along with the new trucks, the utility and motorcycle trailers were securely hitched and waiting to be loaded. The sense of renewal was palpable—this wasn’t just about vehicles, but about building a future for their family.

As Daryl secured the last of the duffel bags in the Ford’s bed, Merle glanced toward the old pickup and let out a low whistle. “Hey now,” he said, his voice carrying across the lot. “Almost forgot about my baby.” He motioned toward his motorcycle, which was tied down snugly in the bed of the old truck.

Sophia, still perched on Merle’s shoulders, tilted her head curiously. “That’s your bike, Uncle Merle?” she asked, her small fingers gripping his shoulders.

“Sure is, little cub,” Merle replied with a grin, his pride evident. “Been with me through thick and thin. Ain’t gonna leave her behind.”

Daryl nodded from where he stood beside the F-250, his expression approving. “Let’s get it loaded onto the trailer,” he said. “Ain’t no sense leavin’ it here.”

Merle adjusted Sophia slightly, making sure she was steady on his shoulders before he walked toward the old truck. “Alright, darlin’,” he said, his tone light. “You’re gonna have the best seat in the house while I handle this.”

Carol watched the scene unfold with a smile, her arms crossed as she leaned against the Silverado. “Don’t you strain yourself, Merle,” she teased gently. “That bike’s no feather.”

Merle snorted, his grin widening. “This? This is nothin’, Carol. Easier than half the gear I carried back when I was in the Marines—hell, even easier than all that sniper kit.”

With Sophia giggling on his shoulders, Merle carefully climbed into the bed of the old truck and began unstrapping the motorcycle with practiced ease. Daryl joined him moments later, climbing in to help steady the bike as they rolled it down the ramp and onto the motorcycle trailer.

“Careful now,” Daryl muttered, his focus sharp as they maneuvered the bike into position.

“Ain’t my first rodeo, little brother,” Merle replied, though there was no edge to his words. He placed a hand on the handlebars, guiding the bike smoothly into place. Once it was aligned perfectly, the two men worked together to secure it with heavy-duty straps, ensuring it wouldn’t budge during the drive.

Sophia watched the entire process intently from her perch. “Your bike is so cool, Uncle Merle,” she said, her voice filled with admiration. “Can I ride it one day?”

Merle grinned, looking up at her. “Maybe when you’re a little older, little cub. Gotta make sure you’re ready for it.”

Sophia nodded eagerly, clearly thrilled by the idea. “Okay! I’ll be the best rider ever.”

Carol chuckled softly, calling over to her daughter. “One thing at a time, sweetheart. Let’s make sure you can handle those daggers first.”

Once the bike was secured, Merle stepped back, his hands on his hips as he admired the setup. “There we go,” he said, satisfaction evident in his tone. “She’s all set.”

Daryl gave a small nod, dusting off his hands as he turned toward the Ford. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s hit the road. Got more stops to make.”

Sophia called out excitedly from Merle’s shoulders. “I call shotgun! I’m riding with Uncle Merle!”

Merle laughed, tilting his head back to look at her. “Guess that settles it,” he said. “Come on, little cub, let’s get you settled.”

He walked over to the Silverado, opening the passenger door and lifting Sophia off his shoulders with ease. Once she was buckled in and her backpack safely beside her, Merle climbed into the driver’s seat, his grin widening as he adjusted the mirrors. “Look at me,” he muttered to himself. “King of the road.”

Carol made her way over to Daryl, who was waiting by the F-250. “Guess that leaves me with you,” she said, her tone light.

Daryl opened the door for her, motioning for her to climb in. “Ain’t gonna be much excitement,” he said, though his voice carried a hint of humor. “But I’ll get us where we’re goin’.”

Carol smiled as she climbed in, settling into her seat as Daryl took the wheel. Before they pulled out, she leaned out the window to call over to Merle. “You take care of my baby, you hear?”

Merle leaned out his own window, tipping an imaginary hat. “Yes, ma’am,” he said with a smirk. “Ain’t nobody safer than your little cub with me.”

With that, the two trucks pulled out of the dealership lot, the Silverado leading the way with Merle at the helm, and the F-250 following close behind. The trailers rolled smoothly behind them—the dual motorcycle trailer carrying Merle’s beloved bike, and the utility trailer ready for the greenhouse kit and other supplies they planned to pick up.

As they drove, a sense of new beginnings settled over the group. They weren’t just moving forward—they were building something stronger, something that felt like family. And this time, they were determined to do it right.

The two trucks rolled steadily down the highway, the trailers rattling faintly behind them as the group made their way to the next stop. In the black Ford F-250, Daryl kept his eyes on the road, his hands firm on the wheel, while Carol sat comfortably in the passenger seat, her gaze shifting between the passing scenery and the man beside her. The hum of the engine filled the cab, but the air between them was warm, charged with the quiet intimacy of two people who had been through hell and back together.

Carol broke the silence first, her tone light but teasing. “So,” she began, glancing at him with a small smile, “how does it feel to be a married man, Mr. Dixon?”

Daryl’s lips twitched into a faint smirk, though he kept his eyes on the road. “Weird,” he admitted, his voice low and gravelly. “Ain’t somethin’ I ever thought I’d be. But... it feels right. You and Sophia... y’all feel like mine. Always have.”

Carol’s smile softened, her heart swelling at his words. “We are yours,” she said quietly. “And you’re ours. Took us long enough to figure it out, though.”

Daryl glanced at her briefly, his blue eyes flickering with something unspoken. “Yeah, well,” he muttered, his tone gruff but affectionate, “guess I’m slow on the uptake. But I ain’t slow now. You and that kid... you’re my family. Ain’t nobody gonna mess with that.”

Carol reached over, her fingers brushing lightly against his arm. “You’re a good man, Daryl,” she said softly. “Better than you give yourself credit for.”

Daryl huffed, his smirk returning. “Don’t go gettin’ all mushy on me, woman,” he teased, though his voice was warm. “Ain’t used to all this sweet talk.”

Carol laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Oh, I’m just getting started,” she said, her tone playful. “You better get used to it, Mr. Dixon. You’re stuck with me now.”

Daryl shook his head, but his smirk widened. “Ain’t complainin’,” he said simply. After a moment, his expression grew more serious, his voice dropping. “If I ever see Ed, though... I’ll kill him. No hesitation, no remorse. He ain’t ever gonna hurt you or Sophia again.”

Carol’s smile faded slightly, replaced by a look of quiet understanding. “I know,” she said softly. “But you don’t have to carry that weight, Daryl. He’s not worth it.”

Daryl’s grip on the wheel tightened briefly before he exhaled, his shoulders relaxing. “Maybe not,” he said. “But you and Sophia are. I’d do anything for you two.”

Carol’s heart ached at the sincerity in his voice. She reached over again, this time letting her hand rest on his arm. “And I’d do anything for you,” she said firmly. “You’re my family, Daryl. My husband.”

Daryl glanced at her, his smirk softening into a rare, genuine smile. “Damn right I am,” he said. “And don’t you forget it.”

In the silver Silverado ahead, Merle and Sophia were deep in conversation, the little girl perched happily in the passenger seat as she peppered her uncle with questions. Merle, for his part, seemed to be enjoying the attention, his usual rough edges softened by her enthusiasm.

“What’s your favorite color, Uncle Merle?” Sophia asked, her voice bright and curious.

Merle chuckled, glancing at her briefly before turning his eyes back to the road. “Favorite color, huh? Ain’t nobody asked me that in years. Guess I’d say blue. Like the sky on a good day.”

Sophia nodded thoughtfully. “I like purple,” she said, holding up her wrist to show off her bracelet. “It’s my favorite.”

“Good choice, little cub,” Merle said with a grin. “Purple’s a strong color. Suits you.”

Sophia beamed at the compliment, her hands fiddling with the straps of her backpack. “What’s your favorite food?” she asked next.

Merle laughed, the sound deep and genuine. “Now that’s a tough one,” he said. “Used to be steak, back when I could afford it. These days, I’ll take anything that ain’t out of a can.”

Sophia giggled. “Mom makes really good spaghetti,” she said. “Maybe she can make it for you sometime.”

Merle’s grin widened. “I’ll hold you to that, little cub. Ain’t nothin’ better than a home-cooked meal.”

As the conversation continued, Merle found himself relaxing in a way he hadn’t in years. Sophia’s questions were simple, but they carried a warmth that chipped away at the walls he’d built around himself. By the time they reached the next stop, he felt lighter, as though the weight of his past had eased just a little.

“You’re alright, kid,” he said as he parked the truck, glancing over at her with a rare softness in his eyes. “Glad you’re part of the family.”

Sophia smiled up at him, her voice sweet and sincere. “I’m glad you’re my uncle, Uncle Merle.”

Merle chuckled, ruffling her hair. “Damn right I am,” he said. “Now let’s go see what kinda trouble we can get into.”

The parking lot of the sprawling supply store buzzed with activity as the Dixon convoy pulled in, their new trucks gleaming under the warm afternoon sun. The silver Chevrolet Silverado, towing the dual motorcycle trailer, rolled smoothly into a spot near the entrance, followed closely by the black Ford F-250 with the utility trailer securely hitched behind it. The pair of vehicles stood out amidst the other trucks and SUVs, their clean exteriors and sturdy frames a testament to the fresh start the group had embraced. The trailers were ready to carry the weight of whatever supplies they would gather for their mission, and anticipation hung in the air as the group climbed out of the cabs.

Merle stretched dramatically as he stepped out of the Silverado, rolling his shoulders and letting out a contented sigh. “Well, here we are,” he announced, grinning as he turned to Sophia. “What d’ya say, little cub? Ready to show your old uncle how it’s done?”

Sophia beamed up at him, her tiger cub backpack slung securely over her small shoulders. “I’m ready!” she said brightly, hopping down onto the pavement. Her purple bracelet glinted in the sunlight as she grabbed his hand, eager to start exploring.

Carol stepped out of the F-250, smoothing her shirt as she scanned the towering storefront. Shelves of outdoor equipment and supplies spilled onto the sidewalk, and the faint metallic glint of greenhouse frames stacked near the entrance caught her eye. She turned to Daryl, who had just shut the driver’s side door. “Looks like this place has just about everything we need,” she said.

Daryl nodded, pulling Sam’s folded letter from his pocket and unfolding it. His eyes scanned the list as he spoke. “Greenhouse kit, dog kennels, tools, seeds... gotta cover as much as we can.”

“Think we should split up?” Carol asked, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

Daryl nodded again, his tone firm but calm. “Yeah. Cover more ground that way. You and me can grab the gardening stuff, maybe check out the greenhouse kits. Merle and the kid can handle the kennels and see what else they can dig up.”

Merle smirked, adjusting his cap as he leaned against the Silverado. “You heard the boss,” he drawled, winking at Sophia. “Looks like it’s you and me, little cub. Let’s go cause some trouble.”

Sophia giggled, her hand tightening around his. “Okay, Uncle Merle. Let’s find the best stuff!”

Carol chuckled, shaking her head fondly as she turned back to Daryl. “Guess we better get started,” she said. “Gardening supplies it is.”

With the plan set, the group split off into pairs. Merle and Sophia headed for the outdoor kennels and DIY section, Sophia practically bouncing beside her uncle as they weaved through the rows of towering shelves. Meanwhile, Daryl and Carol made their way toward the gardening and greenhouse section, their pace steady and purposeful.

Merle and Sophia stopped in front of a display of dog kennel kits stacked neatly in large boxes. Each one boasted features like weatherproofing, heavy-duty panels, and multiple size options, with pictures of content-looking dogs printed on the packaging. Merle crouched down to read one of the labels, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “Alright, kid,” he said, glancing up at Sophia. “What d’ya think? Big enough for wolves or just dogs?”

Sophia leaned closer, her bright eyes scanning the selection. The options ranged from compact kits for smaller pets to sprawling enclosures that could house multiple large animals. After a moment, she pointed to one of the largest boxes, labeled with bold lettering: BigPaws Ultimate. It was fifteen feet by ten feet with galvanized steel panels, double-door access, and a weatherproof design.

“That one looks perfect!” she said excitedly. “It’s big enough for lots of dogs.”

Merle grinned, patting her on the head. “Good eye, little cub,” he said. “That one’s a winner.”

He hoisted the heavy box onto their flatbed cart with ease, then grabbed a second one for good measure. “Can’t have too many,” he remarked as he secured the load. “Sam said to go big, so that’s what we’re doin’.”

Sophia giggled as she took hold of the cart’s handle and pushed it carefully alongside him. “What else do we need, Uncle Merle?” she asked.

Merle tapped his finger against his chin, pretending to think hard. “Hmm. Maybe some tools. Or snacks. What d’ya say?”

“Both!” Sophia said with a laugh, her enthusiasm infectious.

Meanwhile, over in the gardening section, Daryl and Carol were hard at work selecting supplies for the greenhouse they planned to set up. Carol knelt beside a towering stack of boxes containing different greenhouse kits, her fingers brushing over the labels as she read the descriptions. “This one looks promising,” she said, pointing to a box labeled GrowMax Pro XL. It was a twenty-foot by twenty-five-foot kit with a heavy-duty aluminum frame, reinforced polycarbonate panels, and adjustable ventilation.

Daryl crouched down beside her, his sharp eyes scanning the label. “Looks solid,” he said simply. “Too big for the truck bed, though. We’ll strap it to the utility trailer.”

Carol stood, brushing her hands on her jeans as she nodded. “Let’s grab it, then look for planting supplies. Pots, seeds, maybe some compost bins. We’ll need all of it.”

Together, they hefted the heavy box onto their cart, balancing it carefully before moving to the next aisle. There, they found rows of gardening tools, pots in various sizes, and shelves packed with colorful seed packets. Carol picked up a terracotta pot, examining its size and durability. “Eighteen-inch, twenty-four-inch, and thirty-inch pots,” she murmured. “We should grab a mix. Big ones for root vegetables, smaller ones for herbs.”

“Sounds good,” Daryl said, loading the pots onto the cart. As Carol browsed the seed selection, her eyes lit up when she spotted a display of heirloom vegetable packs. She grabbed packets for tomatoes, cucumbers, carrots, and spinach, then added some for medicinal herbs like lavender, chamomile, and rosemary.

“These will be perfect,” she said, smiling as she placed them carefully among the pots.

By the time both pairs met back at the front of the store, their carts were piled high with supplies. Merle gave an exaggerated whistle as he glanced at Daryl and Carol’s haul. “Look at that,” he said, grinning. “Green thumbs, the both of ya.”

Carol laughed, patting the side of their loaded cart. “And it looks like you and Sophia did pretty well yourselves.”

Merle tipped his head toward Sophia, who was standing proudly beside their cart. “That’s all her,” he said, his tone lighter than usual. “Kid’s got a knack for pickin’ the good stuff.”

Sophia giggled, her face glowing with pride. “Uncle Merle says I’m the best helper.”

Daryl smirked faintly as he looked over the supplies. “Not bad,” he said, his approval subtle but genuine. “Let’s get it all loaded.”

Back at the trucks, they worked together to secure everything. The BigPaws Ultimate kennel kits went into the Silverado’s bed, while the GrowMax Pro XL greenhouse kit was carefully strapped to the utility trailer. The gardening supplies were split between the two vehicles to evenly distribute the weight. Merle lifted Sophia into the Silverado’s passenger seat with practiced ease, ruffling her hair as she settled in.

“Ready for round two?” he asked, grinning down at her.

Sophia nodded eagerly, hugging her backpack. “Let’s go!”

Carol climbed into the F-250, settling into her seat as she glanced over at Daryl. “Guess we’re back on the road,” she said lightly, her smile warm.

Daryl started the engine, his tone steady. “Let’s get it done.”

The trucks rolled out of the parking lot, their trailers rattling slightly as they headed toward their next destination. With their first round of shopping complete and their spirits high, the group felt
more like a family than ever before—united by purpose, strength, and love. Together, they were building a future worth fighting for.

---TWD---

The Dixon convoy cruised down the highway, their trailers rattling faintly behind the silver Silverado and black Ford F-250. The sky was dotted with lazy clouds, and the hum of the engines blended with the steady rhythm of their shared momentum. This time, their destination was a motorcycle shop on the outskirts of town—Merle’s chance to pick out the second bike Sam had instructed them to buy.

In the Silverado, Merle glanced over at Sophia, who was sitting snugly in the passenger seat, her tiger cub backpack resting at her feet. She was deep in thought, her small hands fiddling with her bracelet as the scenery zipped past outside her window. Merle grinned, leaning slightly to tap her shoulder. “What’s got you thinkin’, little cub?” he asked playfully.

Sophia turned to him, her wide eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Do you think the new motorcycle will be fast, Uncle Merle?” she asked. “Like the one you have?”

Merle chuckled, his voice warm. “Oh, it’ll be fast, all right,” he said. “Fast enough for me to leave your papa in the dust if I wanted. But don’t tell him I said that.”

Sophia giggled, her excitement bubbling over. “Can I ride on your motorcycle one day?”

Merle glanced at her with an exaggerated look of surprise. “Someday, maybe,” he said teasingly. “But only if you promise not to drive me crazy with all your questions about it.”

Sophia laughed, hugging her backpack. “I promise!”

In the F-250 trailing behind, Carol adjusted her seatbelt as she turned to Daryl. “You think Merle’ll go for something flashy, or something practical?” she asked with a grin, her teasing tone clear.

Daryl smirked, his focus steady on the road ahead. “Merle’s Merle,” he replied. “He’ll want somethin’ that makes a statement. But I’ll make sure he don’t go pickin’ somethin’ useless.”

Carol laughed softly, shaking her head. “Flashy or not, it’ll be good to have another bike,” she said. “Especially if we end up needing to scout or split up for supply runs.”

Daryl nodded, his grip firm on the steering wheel. “Yeah. Ain’t a bad idea. Long as Merle don’t start showin’ off too much.”

The two trucks pulled into the parking lot of the motorcycle shop, the low rumble of their engines quieting as they came to a stop. The shop was a combination showroom and workshop, its glass windows showcasing a variety of gleaming motorcycles lined up neatly inside. Outside, a few bikes were parked beneath a large overhang, their vibrant paint jobs catching the sunlight.

Sophia bounced in her seat, pointing excitedly toward the shop. “Look, Uncle Merle! There’s so many motorcycles!”

Merle grinned, ruffling her hair as he opened her door. “That’s right, little cub. Time to find ourselves the best one.”

Carol stepped out of the F-250, adjusting her jacket as she joined them. “Try to keep it reasonable, Merle,” she said, her tone light but firm.

Merle waved her off with a laugh, taking Sophia’s hand as they headed toward the entrance. “Don’t you worry, darlin’. I’ll pick somethin’ good.”

Daryl followed, his eyes scanning the lot before they stepped inside the shop. The showroom was filled with bikes of all shapes, sizes, and styles, their chrome accents gleaming under the bright lights. From sleek racing bikes to rugged dirt bikes, the selection was nothing short of impressive.

Merle rubbed his hands together, his grin widening. “Well, now,” he said, motioning to Sophia. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”

They wandered the rows of motorcycles, each one accompanied by a placard listing its specs and features. Merle stopped in front of a Harley-Davidson Softail Standard, its black-and-chrome design radiating understated elegance. He crouched down to read the placard: 107 cubic inch engine, 6-speed transmission, and a low-slung seat perfect for cruising.

“What d’ya think, kid?” he asked, glancing at Sophia. “This one’s got some muscle.”

Sophia tilted her head, studying the bike closely. “It’s really shiny,” she said. “Do you like it?”

Merle nodded, standing up to run his fingers along the handlebars. “Yeah, I do,” he admitted. “Got that Dixon vibe—strong, steady, and don’t take no crap.”

Daryl stepped over, his gaze assessing the bike. “Looks solid,” he said. “But let’s keep lookin’. Wanna make sure it’s got everything we need.”

They continued browsing, Sophia eagerly pointing out bikes she thought were “cool” while Merle indulged her with his commentary. Carol joined them near a row of touring bikes, her eyes catching on a Honda Gold Wing, its pearl white finish gleaming under the lights.

“This one’s built for the long haul,” Carol said, tapping the placard. “Good storage, comfortable for long rides. Not bad.”

Merle snorted, shaking his head. “Ain’t lookin’ for a sofa on wheels, Carol,” he teased. “Need somethin’ with a little more bite.”

Eventually, they stopped in front of an Indian Scout Bobber, its matte black finish and aggressive stance catching Merle’s attention. He crouched down again, reading the specs: liquid-cooled V-twin engine, 6-speed transmission, and lightweight frame built for speed and handling.

“This one,” Merle said, his voice certain. “This one’s got somethin’ special.”

Sophia clapped her hands excitedly. “It’s perfect, Uncle Merle!”

Daryl gave the bike a once-over, nodding his approval. “Good choice,” he said. “Won’t slow us down.”

Merle grinned, standing up to face the salesman who had been quietly watching them. “Alright,” he said, motioning to the Scout Bobber. “I’ll take it. Let’s get the paperwork done.”

While Merle finalized the purchase, Sophia proudly held onto the brochure the salesman had given her, her enthusiasm contagious. Carol and Daryl stood back, watching the scene with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction.

When everything was settled and the Scout Bobber was securely loaded onto the dual motorcycle trailer, Merle climbed into the Silverado with a triumphant grin. “Got myself a damn good ride,” he said, tipping his head toward Sophia. “Thanks to my little cub here.”

Sophia giggled, waving at her mom and dad as the two trucks pulled out of the lot. With their second bike added to the haul and their spirits high, the Dixon family was ready to tackle whatever came next—together, and stronger than ever.

The Dixon convoy pulled into the parking lot of the sprawling department store, the sun dipping lower in the sky and casting a warm, golden glow over the entrance. The parking lot was bustling with activity, and the size of the store promised everything they could possibly need to outfit themselves and prepare for the uncertain future ahead. The two trucks rumbled to a stop side by side, trailers in tow and ready to be filled.

Sophia leaned out of the passenger window of the Silverado, her excitement already bubbling over as she pointed toward the brightly lit store. “Uncle Merle, look at all the clothes!” she exclaimed, practically bouncing in her seat. “Are we gonna get lots of stuff?”

Merle chuckled, shaking his head as he climbed out of the driver’s seat. “Damn right we are, little cub,” he said, stretching as he surveyed the scene. “Enough to make sure none of us go cold or look ragged when the world starts goin’ sideways.”

Daryl stepped out of the F-250 with his usual quiet determination, glancing toward Carol as she adjusted her jacket. “This is gonna be somethin’,” he muttered. “Merle shoppin’? Might be a damn disaster.”

Carol smirked, her tone light as she replied, “Oh, I think he’ll surprise us. He’s embracing this ‘Uncle Merle’ thing more than I expected.” She turned to Merle with a teasing look. “But try not to buy anything too ridiculous, okay?”

Merle raised his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening. “Darlin’, you wound me. Trust me, I got taste.”

Sophia giggled, hopping out of the Silverado and grabbing Merle’s hand. “Are you gonna pick clothes for me too, Uncle Merle?” she asked, her wide eyes sparkling.

Merle winked at her. “You betcha, kid. You’ll be the best-dressed tiger cub in the bunch.”

With that, the group headed into the store, the automatic doors sliding open to welcome them into the brightly lit interior. The rows of racks and shelves seemed to stretch endlessly, packed with clothes for every size, season, and occasion. The variety was overwhelming, but the Dixon family moved with purpose.

Carol led Sophia toward the children’s section, their cart rolling steadily as they began to fill it with options for every season. “Alright, sweetheart,” Carol said, her tone warm but practical. “We’re going to make sure you have everything you need.”

Sophia nodded, her excitement palpable as she grabbed a purple sweatshirt with a silver tiger cub design. “Can I have this one, Mom?” she asked.

Carol smiled, helping her place it in the cart. “Of course, sweetheart,” she said. She added a soft fleece jacket in deep lavender and a lightweight raincoat in teal. “We’ll get you set for all kinds of weather.”

They moved through the aisles, picking out sturdy pairs of jeans from Levi’s in dark washes and light ones. Carol chose a couple of pairs of overalls for utility, as well as joggers in neutral colors like gray and navy for comfort. She handed Sophia a pair of warm snow pants in black and a matching waterproof jacket, complete with zippered pockets.

“These will keep you warm when it’s cold,” Carol explained, and Sophia nodded enthusiastically.

For summer, they picked out T-shirts in soft cotton—yellow, pink, purple, and green—as well as shorts and tank tops. Sophia fell in love with a dress covered in tiny daisies and twirled happily as Carol held it up for her. Carol added pajamas featuring animals—one set with foxes and another with kittens—and a pair of purple sneakers with glow-in-the-dark laces that made Sophia squeal with joy.

“Oh, Mom, look!” Sophia said, pointing to a display of hats. Carol helped her pick out a knit beanie in purple and a baseball cap in pink.

To round out the wardrobe, Carol grabbed larger sizes to account for growth, including jeans, hoodies, and leggings. “You’ll need these as you get bigger,” she explained. “We’ll be ready for anything.”

Over in the men’s section, Merle was surprisingly focused as he worked through the racks, his usual sarcasm toned down but still present in his banter. He held up a Carhartt canvas jacket in tan, eyeing it critically before adding it to their growing pile. “What d’ya think, little brother?” he asked. “Tough enough for us Dixons?”

Daryl shrugged, grabbing a similar jacket in dark green. “It’ll do,” he said. He added a set of Wrangler work pants in charcoal gray and a pair in khaki, along with flannel shirts in muted colors like blue and rust.

Merle held up a graphic T-shirt featuring a roaring tiger, smirking as he tossed it into the cart. “Might as well look fierce,” he joked. “Gotta keep the theme.”

Daryl ignored him, focusing instead on picking out practical thermals, including black and gray base layers and insulating socks. “Grab some gloves,” Daryl reminded him, tossing a pair of leather work gloves into the cart.

Merle complied, grabbing a heavy-duty knit beanie and a fleece-lined balaclava as well. “Might as well stay warm while we’re kickin’ ass,” he said.

Despite his usual humor, Merle’s newfound commitment to his role as Uncle Merle and brother-in-law shone through. As they finished in the men’s section, Merle stopped at an aisle featuring multipacks of wool socks and base layer shirts. “Y’know,” he said, his voice quieter, “we oughta grab some of these for the others. Rick, Carl... maybe Hershel and his family too.”

Daryl raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Good idea,” he said simply.

They loaded the cart with packs of socks, gloves, and thermals for all sizes, ensuring enough to cover the group they planned to unite with. Merle added a few sturdy bandanas in various colors and a set of lightweight rain ponchos, his focus unwavering.

By the time the group regrouped near the checkout counters, both carts were piled high with clothes. The back seats of both trucks would be packed tightly, but the Dixon family didn’t mind—the weight of preparation felt good.

“Look at all this,” Merle said with an exaggerated whistle, motioning to their haul. “Hell, we’ll be the best-dressed group in the apocalypse.”

Carol laughed, shaking her head. “Don’t let it go to your head,” she said. “Sophia, what do you think of everything we found?”

Sophia hugged her purple sweatshirt with the tiger cub design, grinning from ear to ear. “It’s perfect!” she said.

As they checked out, Merle surprised them again by insisting on paying for the items meant for Rick, Carl, and Hershel’s family. “Ain’t just about us,” he said gruffly. “We’re all in this together.”

The group worked together to load the clothes into the trucks, filling the back seats until there was barely enough room to sit. Sophia giggled as Merle carried her backpack back to the Silverado, ruffling her hair with a grin.

“Alright, little cub,” he said. “Next stop?”

Sophia nodded enthusiastically. “Let’s go!”

The convoy pulled out of the parking lot, their trailers rattling faintly behind them. As they drove, the Dixon family felt the weight of the world lessened slightly by their efforts. Together, they were stronger, and together, they would face whatever came next.