[ Daryl pours a few inches into the last clean glass and swallows it in one just before Gabe reaches for the tie currently half-strangling Daryl. He hates wearing this shit and since he hadn't been the one to get the tie done in the first place, he also can't figure out how to get it off. Gabe seems to know what he's doing. Daryl surrenders to the help without much protest. It's hard to be truly embarrassed just now.

Especially when he exhales through his nose, almost a laugh, at the mental image of Gabe getting punched in the balls by some chick. ]

Yeah. You can.

[ He unbuttons just the top of his shirt so he can get a real breath as the tie comes away. The stupid jacket comes off next. ]

My people just... got used to me. In the beginning.

[ His voice has gone quiet the way it always does when he talks about who he used to be. He doesn't exactly sound sad. It's more complicated than that. ]

My brother'n me were campin' outside the city. Atlanta. We were driftin' in to see if the government had set some shit up - to see if anyone knew what was goin' on. If they were dealin' with the walkers, or what.

The people we ran into proved that no one was handlin' shit. Stranded families, an' all. We figured stayin' with a group would be best.

[ But suddenly Daryl smiles, just a little, a wistful sort of fondness in his voice. ]

Then Rick showed up an' handcuffed my brother to a roof. For bein' a ragin' asshole, no doubt. An' left him there. An' instead of killin' him, I followed him. 'Cause that's just the kinda guy he was. Is.