"This is fucking stupid."
"Shut up, Daryl, class is in session!"
For the past week the women of the prison have made it a point to continue everyone's education despite their lack of school system… or government… or society in general.
Every day for an hour or so, however long they can manage, everyone but the current watch guards would gather in the library and study. More often than not Rick had to drag Daryl by the scruff to get him to "class."
The teachers were usually adults, though sometimes the younger people joined in for the classes as well. The Woodbury people were wary of the Prison group and they decided the best way to convince the Woodbury group that this schooling would be good for their youth was to first educate the prison group, despite their lack of children.
Today Carol was teaching the class how to use the Pythagorean Theorem and geometry basics. Glenn wasn't paying any attention and passed Maggie a note, catching Ms. Carol's eye.
"Glenn, Maggie!" The two groaned. "Eyes up front. Is that a note?" Glenn whined out a yes. "Well, then, Mr. Rhee, please enlighten the class on what could be so much more important than math!"
Carol's a harsh teacher, Daryl laughed to himself.
"Oh God, please don't make me." Panic filled the young Korean's eyes and Daryl tried his best not to smile at the situation. He was going to have a good day.
"NOW, Glenn."
He groaned and stood from the library desk, glancing at Maggie's red face as he groaned out the note. "Meet me in the showers after class. This is so lame. Does Carol have a nicer ass than me?"
The class snickered at their embarrassment. Carol's own face flushed as she stepped back and announced a subject change. As she sat back down to resume the role as student, Rick stepped up.
"Hello class, I'll be your English teacher."
Everyone sarcastically chanted, "Hello, Mr. Grimes."
"Everyone get out your copies of Heart of Darkness. Daryl, are you chewing gum?"
"Yeah, hoss."
"Spit it out, we're having school."
"Make me."
"Mr. Dixon, don't make me call your guardian."
Daryl and Rick locked eyes, jaws set tight as they watched each other for the next move. "You wouldn't."
Rick kept a straight face as he took a few steps to the library door. "HERSHEL, I NEED YOU IN HERE NOW."
Daryl jumped up, "You fucking snitch!"
"Sit down, Mr. Dixon, or it's a detention!"
"Detention? Where? Where's detention, Rick?"
"Uh… your cell."
"Alright, see ya'll tomorrow."
"DAMN IT, SIT DOWN." The redneck sat down obediently. Carol and Tyreese were laughing so hard they had breathing problems and Carl snickered something to Beth. A moment later Hershel hobbled in the room, looking around for the problem student.
"Yes, Rick?"
Stepping aside to give a full view of the room, Rick placed a hand on Daryl's head (which made him twitch in anger, what the hell Rick). "Your son here is causing a disturbance in class."
"Daryl Eugene Dixon!" Hershel boomed. "Did I raise you in a barn?" A swift glare to Beth and Maggie silenced their affirmations before they could begin.
This was Carl's favorite part of class. Whenever someone acted out, they were sent "home" with their "dad," which really was field work with Hershel. It was like being grounded. Daryl, without fail, was "sent home" every day while Hershel pretended to be the tired parent of a rebellious teenager. The pretending was the best part, it was almost like the world didn't end.
Hershel limped to Daryl and grabbed him by the ear, earning a sharp hiss. "I raised you better than that! It must be those darn violent video games I keep hearing about. Have you been playing Grand Theft Auto again, young man? What you need is more bible verses to set you on the straight and narrow!"
He dragged Daryl to the door, the younger man now trying not to laugh himself to keep up his too-cool-for-school façade. Really, Daryl thought it was hilarious to be "punished" by his pretend dad every day for disrupting their sad excuse for a class. His real dad was nothing like this and, in a way, he did this to pretend he didn't have a fucked up childhood. His real dad just beat him, never tried to talk to him about why he acted out. But that's not the point.
"Mr. Greene!" Glenn called out. "I saw Daryl at a party last night! I think he was taking the pot!"
Hershel silenced a chuckle and gave Daryl a pathetic pseudo-glare. "YOUNG MAN! Partying! ON A SCHOOL NIGHT? And what's this I hear about you doing the drugs?"
Daryl's voice quivered from holding in his laughter. Normally he wouldn't go along with this extended nonsense but he figured he should learn to soften up, for baby Judith at least. "It was only one marijuana, dad! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE MY AGE."
"YOU ARE FORTY-FIVE YEARS OLD."
"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND."
Rick placed his hand over his face, doing a bad job at hiding his own smile and chuckles. He straightened his face and used his best cop expression to talk to Daryl. "Daryl…" he drawled. "I used to be a policeman. You really shouldn't mess with drugs like pot. I've seen what it does to people, it changes you. You think you know how it's like but you don't, then you try it for yourself and you become an addict before you even know you have a problem." He took a deep breath and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Daryl… you need to know how serious marijuana addiction is."
Daryl cocked his head and squinted his eyes. "How serious is it, Rick?" he asked monotone and dry.
"I knew a guy once, real smart, was on the path to an Ivy League school. He tried pot once and…. he died, Daryl. He overdosed on the pot stuff. Another guy I knew took four whole marijuanas and now he's a raging homosexual."
The people in the room were liable to pass out from lack of oxygen with all this hardcore laughing going on. Even Michonne had tears in her eyes from how ridiculous these normally serious men were acting.
"But Rick," Daryl whispered. "I already did three marijuanas."
The room went dead silent.
"It's a good thing you stopped," Rick replied in a quiet and strangely serious tone.
The sound of plastic crinkling in the silent room brought everyone's attention back to Daryl, who was pulling a joint and a match from his pocket, raising both to his mouth and lighting up.
"Oh no, Rick," he breathed out a puff of smoke. "What's one plus three?"
Carol stood up with her math book, "That's four!"
Daryl limply held the joint in his smirking mouth. "Oh shit, Rick, four whole marijuanas."
The sheriff laughed a bit with the group, wondering how long Daryl had a stash with him, not realizing how close Daryl got. "Daryl, what the—" The redneck grabbed at his wrists. "Stop that—"
"Oh no, Rick! What's happening?" He laughed as he pulled Rick closer.
"Damn it—"
"It's happening, Rick!"
"—cut that out—"
"It's the marijuana poisoning!"
"—MY SON IS WATCHING—"
Daryl stopped a moment and gave Carl a serious, piercing gaze. "Kids, don't do drugs." Then he went back to smirking and taunting Rick, who struggled the entire time, until he kissed the other man on the cheek. He pulled away, laughter mixing into the sound of the room. Rick stood with a shocked expression and a bit of ash on his cheek where the joint rubbed against him.
Michonne was doubled over and crying through the chuckles that seemed to wrack everyone's bodies. Rick walked back to the front of his class, calling back, "Daryl! You're expelled."
The redneck called out a "booyah!" as he left the room with Hershel. The class tried to regain their composure but never could get back in the mood to learn after Daryl's nonsense.
With a hand on his peach-fuzz covered chin, Glenn wondered aloud, "If Daryl kissed Rick to get out of an hour of class, what do you think he did to get out of actual school?"
As if on cue Daryl popped back in the room, "Ya'll wouldn't believe the shit I got away with."
A/N: Learn from Daryl's mistakes, kids. Pot is a serious drug and can make you one sassy bitch.