Hey~Hai peeps, peepers, and peepettes! You've stumbled onto my little instalment of The Walking Dead. This is my first public fanfic (so yeah it shall stink of newbie writer status). If I can guess correctly this will be an AU? In this version, we take a look at an old friend of the Dixon brothers, Zayla(I think it's called an OC). The first chapter or so will be focused on their history Pre-Apocalypse and then I'll intertwine it with the main story of the survivors. Throughout the story I'll change some of the outcomes of how it was originally aired but keeping the basic concept(going off of AMC's The Walking Dead because I unfortunately can't find the damn comics)So yes, people who died MAY LIVE AGAIN, people who (I think)SHOULD have died, just might! IT'S ALLL A MYSTERYYYYY! ANYWAY, enough of my antics enjoy my little vixens! Feedback is greatly appreciated! :)
(Zayla's POV)
"Am I loud and clear, or am I breaking up?
Am I still your charm, or am I just bad luck?
Are we getting closer, or are we just getting more lost?"
I softly sung a song I had come to love over the years as it played a bit often on the Atlanta radios. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. Walking down the hot concrete pavements, I danced a little while looking over the familiar sights of the town I had now called 'home'. I wasn't no Georgia peach and I sure as hell didn't act like one. My mom and dad moved us around so much I could barely remember which state I was born in. I was wearing my signature outfit today: a white t-shirt, whose sleeves I'd graciously ripped off, light denim above-the-knee capris that were accompanied by dark brown cowboy lace-up boots and darker, also sleeveless, jean vest. I took pride in my anti-girly appearance. I was about 5'6 and had inhabited this word for 16 and half years. My hair was a dark red; it was very short and in a boyishly choppy cut with a black bandana covering my forehead. At first glance, you'd probably mistake me for a boy, which wasn't insulting because I WAS a goddamn tomboy. I was never into skirts or dresses or makeup or heels, none of that girly shit would fly with me and my father praised me for it. He'd treat me like the son he never had or actually wanted and we bonded tightly through that. My mother seemed less thrilled at the fact, but she didn't treat me any differently. Unfortunately, she was in a car crash last year, leaving me to be raised by my father who was doing a damn good job at it.
"I'll show you mine, if you show me yours first…"
"I'll show you mine sweetheart!"
A gruff voice interrupted my peaceful demeanor and stopped me in my tracks. I twist my head to the left. There stood a man, about 6 feet, with a little muscle to him. He had black hair that came just to his cheek and dark brown eyes that were gawking over me. His white-beater was tight due to his sweat, cargo pants and a beer bottle in hand, along with the smirk of a wolf who had just found a lamb.
I sighed and paused the delightful music that soothed my inner demons and put the black over-ear headphones around my neck before turning to him fully, eyes locked, loaded and ready to spit bullets.
"Yeah…youse a pretty lil' thang, missy…I'd give a bit to see how mucha' man you can take."
This asshole had a death wish, he had to. All the 'men' around town knew for a GODDAMN FACT that if they tried that cat call shit, SOMEONE would be bleeding by the time I was done. With my Dad being one of those high-ranking military hounds, his legacy alone kept most of the scum around here at bay, but he still insisted on teaching me some basic and advanced hand-to and combat. I had set one too many examples to put up with this shit.
"Jeb! Leave 'er be! She ain't nothin' you want! Leave 'er be man!"
One of the men accompanying the sick bastard who was now deemed as 'Jeb', spoke quickly but hesitantly. His voiced was trying to be hushed but in a loud enough and warning tone so that his friend could get the drift. Jeb turned to the man that spoke.
"Why should I Earl? She's struttin' round' here like a damned prized hog from the county fair! She caught my eye, n' I've takin a likin' towards 'er. I'm gon' giver somthin' real nice."
As his head turned back to mehis cheek got acquainted with my fist and his arm was twisted behind his back, his face smashed against the brick wall he was leaning on and his neck met the cold embrace of my pocket knife. The men he was with stood and watched in both excitement and fear.
"Ain't you never seen a lady before? You should know better than to talk like that in the presence of one. I am appalled! You kiss your Mama with that mouth? I think you owe me an apology Jeb, less you was plannin' on takin' a trip to the emergency room today." I hissed as the salty sweat poured by the gallons from his face and trailed down his neck, shimmering in the daylight.
"I-I'm s-sorry lil' miss…it was w-wrong for me to disrupt ya'. Musta' mistaken ya' fer a lil piece of tail I used ta' chase 'round. D-didn't mean no harm." I slowly turned my head to the side in a crazed manner, he had a pretty good view of my face from the way his head was, and I pulled the knife back.
"See, that wasn't so hard now was it? Use the manners your Mama taught ya' asshole."I released him and he slid to the ground, clutching his arm and breathing heavily. I began to walk, a sinister smile tugging at my lips. Within that little altercation, I had managed to pull out 20 bucks from that jerk's pocket. A nominal fee for wasting my time. Pulling my headphones back on, I picked up where I left off.
"…let's compare scars, I'll tell you whose is worse. Let's unwrite these pages and replace them with our own words…"
I reached my destination in no longer than 15 minutes, the worn out Dixon house that barely stood before me was home to a close friend of mine. Daryl. He was different, in a way I couldn't pinpoint but still different and that's what attracted me to him. He was quiet but his mind was loud, I could see it. When I'd watch him sit and gaze at nothing, his eyes flickering between things I couldn't see and his fingers slightly tapping his knee, I knew he was deep in thought. He was smarter than he appeared to be and I wanted to pry open his mind to see what it was that ran through it.
Years ago, I learned the hard way that knocking on the front door of the Dixon house was a damn good mistake and when I did, I never let the scene of their Daddy's drunken yelling and badgering escape my mind. I never wanted that to happen again as it gave me a good scare. Nowadays, I climbed through the window around the back of the house that led into the room him and his older brother Merle shared. Technically, it was Daryl's room but Merle didn't seem to care, if he couldn't get to his first, Daryl's room would do just fine.
Merle, a damn dog is what he was and he had the name to fit. He was always getting locked away so he was rarely ever home, but when he was, he'd drink, fuck, and get high like they were the only things that kept his heart beating. His teenage years were long gone but he wasn't that old, the old warhound still had some good years ahead of him.
Sitting in-between the space with the wall and the bed, I was hidden for the most part. As I settled in, I waited for my silent, 17 year old companion to grace me with his presence. I really did value his friendship, mainly because he was one of the few friends I actually had.
Time passed and I started thinking that he'd forgotten that I was coming. To hell with the fact that I was trespassing, I just didn't want to be alone with Merle!
Suddenly, the door opened then closed and I heard the almost silent footsteps of his boot covered feet, then the squeaking of the bed and his heavy sigh.
"Well someone forgot about me…" I thought.
His relaxed breathing signified that he was asleep or at least getting there. I quietly crawled to where his head lay, one arm draped over his eyes and the other hanging off the bed, his chest rising and falling with his calm breathing. He was sleeping.
I smiled.
I liked him, hell I practically claimed him. I'd kiss him on the cheek and watch his face get red whenever we'd say our 'goodbyes' for the night. I'd hug him tight and breathe in his scent, knowing how he hated having his personal space invaded, but appreciating the warmth and fondness of me. I'd fallen for a Dixon, the craziest of crazies and the most unstable people to ever walk this earth. If anyone knew how I felt about him, they'd tell me I was stupid and that I'd be better off liking a wild animal, but I wouldn't care what anybody said. I was like a dog to a bone, I dare anyone try to take him away from me.
Seeing the opening to get him embarrassed, amongst other things, I gently sat on his lap. He stirred a bit, moving one arm under his head, but relaxed again. I placed my hands on his strong chest, one of them over his steady heartbeat and slowly moved down to the waistband of his jeans and back up again.
He didn't move, not even a flinch. If anything, he became even more relaxed than he already was, like he was comfortable.
Impatient, I crossed my arms over my chest and grinded into his crotch, putting a suitable amount of pressure on him.
"Try sleeping through that."
A groan softly rumbled in his chest as his hips gave an instinctive buck before his eyes shot open; his grey-blues ran over me before meeting my dark grey ones. For a second, I noticed how dilated they were…how they were darkened with something…then I felt him. How hard he was. I could tell his boner wanted to rip out of the jeans that restrained him, the friction and warmth only making it worse.
"Whatcha' doin that fer girl?! S'matter wit ya?"He growled and pulled me by my hips off of him and onto the bed. He sat up and put his legs over the side, his breathing heavy. I smirked triumphantly.
"Complimentary wakeup call from yours truly. It's time to play, Dixon!" I smirked deviously and he glared over his shoulder before dropping his head down, he was concentrating on his breathing again.
"Ya' coulda just waited fer me to get up n'stead of doin whatcha' did, actin' like you don't know no better! Ya' gonna get nipped right in the ass one day, keep doin that!"He threw his hand up and I laughed.
"Hey, you brought this on yourself! I told you I was coming over and you should've been up so you can't be mad at me."
"Like hell I can't"
I lay on my back so my cheek was touching his leg; my legs were crossed at my ankles up against the wall and I looked up at him. He caught my eyes for a second then tore away to the floor below.
"You seriously got your balls in a bunch 'cause you gotta boner Daryl?" His attention snapped on to me as I spoke, then he blushed and refocused on the floor. I giggled making him glare at me from the corner of his eyes.
I bit my lip innocently.
"…whatcha' do that fer? Gonna be the death of me girl."He grumbled again.
We sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, something I had become accustomed to after being around him for so long.
"You gonna be walkin' around with a angry boner all day or do you want me to help you?" I said softly andtrailed my fingertips down his exposed arm. As confident as I seemed, I had no freaking idea of what I was going to do if he accepted my temptation. His eyes never left mine but he gripped the sheets, knuckles white. Suddenly, the door slammed open and Merle stood tall with his signature smirk dawned on his face and a blonde broad in a fit of giggles over his left shoulder.
"We gonna have some fun today girlie, you jus' wait!" He patted her ass and laughed before noticing Daryl and, more interestingly, myself along with the position I was in. He dropped the blonde girl and she gave an 'oomph' before scowling up at him.
"Ouch Merle! That hurt you asshole!"She slapped his leg, causing him to look down and grab her arm to haul her out the bedroom door.
"Merle what the fuck!?"
"Hush up now sugartits, you gon' get a piece of me but right now I need you to shut yer spit hole n' go sit in there till I call ya'. Grown-ups got some talkin' to do, go on!" He shoved her forward and she stomped into the living room where she plopped down on the couch. He came back in the bedroom, eyes fixated on me and smirked.
Sugartits, one of the most degrading names I'd ever heard a woman be called and it was Merle's way of giving…compliments? That ugly word was the one thing I'd always know him by and the broads he'd be with just ate that shit up…Sugartits, yuck!
"Well I'll be sippin' slurpees in hell, my baby brother done bagged him a good one all by himself. You sure she ain't too much for ya' Darylina?" Daryl scowled but was silent, his eyes were flushed with embarrassment and anger. Merle chucked and squatted in front of me. I sat up, legs under me and arms holding me to his face level.
"Whatcha' doin wit my baby brother? Girl like you need somebody who can make 'er scream. If ya' wanted to have some fun, ya' coulda called on ol' Merle, I'd happ-ly oblige to any of your needs darlin'."
"Go fuck yourself." I said with a smile making his bigger.
"I'd be happier if you did. Ya' got quite the mouth on ya' there girlie, by the way yer talkin' I can tell you ain't yet been tamed…"He moved his face closer to mine.
"…Darylina over here ain't man enough to tame ya. But me? Hell, I'd have ya' legs shakin, eyes in the back of yer head 'n just beggin' me for more. My baby brother wouldn't fuck the cleanest broad I'd bring 'em. He probably wouldn't even know what ta' do with a piece of ass, boy's almost a man n' still ain't punched his V card."
"I ain't no damn virgin Merle." Daryl said sternly as he stood and we both looked at him. Merle had an eyebrow cocked and that stupid grin began playing on his face again.
"Well that's good to know…"
"Well hot damn, ya' sure as hell had me fooled, had me thinkin' you was gonna save yourself for marriage some lil' pussy." He laughed and walked in front of him.
"Tell me somethin' baby brother, did this fine lil vixen over here do it? Y'all do some romantic Romeo and Juliet type shit? Damn shame a woman gotta teach ya' how ta use yer own piece. Hope ya' was smart 'nough ta' wrap the damn thing."Merle's teasing tone was broken by his barking laughter. Usually, I'd bust his face open and watch him flail around on the floor, laughing while he spewed curses and call me every bitch in the book, but something was telling me to bite my tongue and watch the show. So I did.
"I ain't loose it to her, didn't even know 'er when it happened…but it sure as hell wasn't to none of them whores ya' done fucked dry!" His voice was low at first, as if he didn't want me to hear it, but I was literally a half an inch away from him. What did he expect?
"Ain't you got a broad in there to be bangin'? Ya left 'er alone 'n she probly done stole everythin' but the kitchen sink."
Merle's grin stayed plastered on his face as he looked over his brother and then back to me.
"Growin' quite the pair there baby brother. Don't worry, I'm just pokin' fun. Well, I best be lettin' you two getcha' thing on then. Don't make too much noise ladies, we wouldn't wanna scare the neighbors."With that, he closed the door and returned his attention to the blonde he had brought in. A few minutes later, all I could hear was those two going at it like animals. The bed creaking, her moaning, him growling, the slapping of skin on skin. I gagged at the thought of what they were doing as it was pretty obvious.
Getting off the bed, I opened the window and turned to him.
"Can we get outta here before I blow chunks? I feel like I'm gonna catch somethin' if I'm too close to the horror goin' on in there." My face was scrunched up and twisted like a putrid odor had penetrated my nose. Daryl huffed and walked to the window.
"Ladies first."
"Then why aren't you outside yet Dayrlina?" I teased and he scowled before we hopped through and out.
"Don't start callin' me that, ya' hear? Get enough of that crap from Merle."
"Yes, sir Mr. Dixon"
Throughout the years, Daryl and I got closer even if only inch by inch. We protected each other like brother and sister, argued like a married couple, and sometimes we'd even have a tender moment where we'd kiss before he'd pull away. Those were the moments I craved.
We stayed close even as adults. I shared an apartment with Skylar, the other bartender I worked with, as the place wasn't too far from the bar in town. The Dixon boys would stop by sometimes and I'd give them a round on the house.
We didn't change much aside from the fact that I let my hair grow out a little over my shoulders and my eyes were the color of metal due to melanin. I was developing a Georgia accent that was noticeable when I'd yell or get angry. Daryl got taller and stronger, his dirty blonde hair stayed in its cropped style but he drank a bit more and his smoking got up to an addictive level.
As the years progressed I started stealing more, after all bad habits die hard. At first it was just petty things like bracelets, necklaces, rings, then to food, then clothes, and I found myself pickpocketing people daily. I didn't know I was doing it half the time. Then there was a car, a beautiful, new modeled, black, Charger. I couldn't help it, the damn thing was begging me to take it and that's where I royally fucked up.
I got caught, and thrown in the back of a cop car. Did they really think it'd be that easy, that I'd just come in peacefully? I'd gotten caught one other time as a teenager and they let me go with a warning but not before putting my picture behind the front desk for anyone to recognize.
I was familiar with the backseat so escaping was too easy. My knees up to my chest to brace for impact, a turn and a pull I was out the car, tumbling in the street and gaining distance between those pigs.
"Off your ass and on your feet, girl." I pulled myself up and started running, the cops trailing after me, yelling for me to stop and surrender.
The minutes that passed seemed like hours; my chest was heaving and my lungs burned, but that just fueled my flame to keep going. I felt like I was on one of those outrageous, cop chase TV shows.
"You stop, you're done for. First for grand theft auto and second for resisting arrest. You stop and there's no easy way out of this."
The cops were still taling me, but they weren't keeping up as much. One cut through an ally, a turn of a corner and there was the dirt path leading to safety. Running up the few steps and slightly banging on the door with my foot, Merle appeared in the doorway, shirt half on and boxers loose.
"Zayla? Whatcha' doin-" I damn near tackled the man and slammed the door behind me, my back to it keeping everything out.
"The hell kind shit storm you brewin' girl?"
"Shh!"
"What?!"
"Shut the fuck up Merle!"
After a reassuring 20 minutes of silence, I peeked out the mail slot to see any signs of the law. Sighing tiredly, I slumped to the floor, chest heaving and face covered in sweat.
"The hell kinda trouble ya get into girlie? Comin' in here lookin like a runaway slave that done all but missed the freedom train. Ya' keep runnin' that trap of yours and I'mma tan your hide."I laughed exhaustedly with him, I probably did look like shit and God knows a bare-ass beating was long overdue, but I was safe and that's all that mattered.
"Merle, the hell's goin' on out here?"Daryl had emerged, shotgun cocked, hair a mess and pajamas on. His eyes fell to me and filled with worry as he lowered the gun and looked over me.
"Zayla? You out bashin' people in the heads wit' bottles again?"I smiled as I replayed the memory. "That was one time and that asshole deserved it." He smirked and the tenseness faded.
"Don't bust a nut baby brother, Zayla just came by in the dead of night cause she couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout me. Lil vixen jus' wanted some tender lovin'."
He was a cocky son of a bitch, but he was funny when he wanted to be.
"I like bein' cuffed up as much as the next girl, but do you think you could help me outta these?" I pulled my arms under my legs so the handcuffs were in front of me. Merle chuckled.
"Always had a feelin' you was into kinky shit like that." He winked and stood. "Ya 'member what I taught ya?" Daryl nodded and Merle patted his shoulder before retreating to bed.
After he had gotten the cuffs off I peeked out the window, looking for any sings of the cops and saw none. I'd be good till' morning.
"Don't look like the cops is 'round no more. Thanks for the new cuffs, Dixon." I went to grab the doorknob and he pulled my hand away, leaning on the door with his arms crossed over his chest.
"Oh great, now he's gonna chew me out and make me feel like the biggest asshole ever."
"Ya ain't goin' out there again, I think you've had more than enough fun tonight and ya' obviously need a damn babysitter lil' miss outlaw."I scoffed.
I needed a babysitter? With all the bar and street fights I've seen him in with and without Merle, I was a saint dressed in white standing before him.
"I'm 27 years old, a grown ass woman-"
"And I'm 29, respect ya damn elders girl. You ain't leavin' this house tonight. Ya gonna go get cleaned up, get in bed, and I ain't gonna put up wit' no fussin' neither." I narrowed my eyes.
Who in the hell told him that he could boss me around like he was my damn father? Who gave him that authority over me? I had to admit though, it was a bit of a turn-on seeing him so demanding.
I cocked my eyebrow and smirked as dirty thoughts flooded my mind and heated between my legs.
"You gonna spank me for bein' bad? I should warn you though, I love it."I teased.
He took slow strides until he was in my face.
"Keep testin' me girl, an' ya gonna regret it." He growled.
Was he serious? Is he serious? He's not serious…right?
Part of me wanted to see what he would do if I disobeyed, maybe I'd like my punishment. Then again, he is a crazy ass redneck and I'd hate to get on his bad side.
The fear of the unknown outcome won.
I smirked and headed towards the bathroom. Merle was right, I did look like shit. Face covered in dirt and blood from the impact of the tuck and roll, shirt ripped almost to shreds, hair frizzy and wild.
"Mama if you could see me now…" I muttered to myself, she'd probably have a stroke at the first glace of me.
A quick sink wash was sufficient to make me look decent enough. I pulled the door open enough to peek out and look for Merle, seeing me half-naked would stroke his ego in all the wrong places. With my clothes in hand, I sprinted into Daryl's room and shut the door. As I turned, my eyes met his wide ones.
He had another pair of his PJ pants along with one of his shirts in his hands, which were probably for me, and his grip tightened when his eyes saw my much exposed body through my blue and black frilled underwear set. I looked down at myself and remembered his favorite color was indeed the shade of blue I was wearing.
"You gonna tuck me in and read me a bedtime story?"
I heard him gulp and his eyes grew deeply dilated. He was like a timid animal, the slight panic in his eyes was far from unnoticeable and he was nervous.
With slow strides, I walked in front of him and grabbed the clothes from his hand to set them down on the bed. His eyes never broke contact as I leveled with his 6'2 frame. My fingers found his skin and softly traced his arm muscles, trying to get him to remember the familiar touch that was mine, before they wrapped around his neck.
When our chests were pressed together, his breathing hitched and I felt the warmth of this hands radiate from my legs. He didn't touch me, but he wanted to and that was more than enough progress to satisfy me. I stood on my toes, my chin on his shoulder and pressed my lips to his ear,
"Just relax, it's only me. It's okay if you're nervous…"
One hand went to his short, cropped hair while the other stayed wrapped around his shoulders to pull him closer and obliterate any distance between us. He hadn't moved, but he would tense every so often to signify his uncomfortableness.
The hand from his shoulders found its way to his chest and trailed down to the waistband of his pants. I pulled my head back to look at him to find his eyes closed and his lips parted slightly. This was the most contact we'd ever had and he was enjoying it, thankfully.
Taking his facial expression as an 'Ok' of sorts, I dipped my hand into his pants and smiled into his chest. Someone decided to go full on commando today, talk about ballsy.
He groaned at my touch and finally returned the favor; his arms went around my waist and pulled me in closer than we already were. I sighed lovingly when his lips kissed my neck and made a trail to my jaw. I was not going to let any matter on this Earth stop this, not a nuclear bomb, not anarchy erupting on the street, not even Merle could fuck this up for me.
I moved my head and our lips connected in a sweet collision that almost instantly turned into a lusty want, a long overdue need. He guided me backwards until the back of my knees hit the bed and we fell on it. His hands were running up and down my sides, from my ribcage to my thighs, yet my hands stayed in place. Acknowledging the chance to finally feel him, my arms ran over his back through his shirt. I wanted to rip the damn thing off, but instead I slid my hands under his shirt to feel his hard-
Wait a minute…what was I feeling here? It wasn't smooth everywhere only patches here and there; underneath my fingertips I felt lines…hicks?
Scratches from another woman? No, these were too deep to hold any pleasure… they were heavily inflicted.
Scars…bruises…injuries…but from what? How long have they been there? Why didn't he tell me, why didn't I notice, and WHO was the sorry son of a bitch who did this to him?
I realized that I was just lying there, unresponsive to him as I tried to understand my contemplating mind. My brows burrowed in confusion and question and my eyes were darting to try and find an image in my mind to place what I felt.
He was watching me, and for the first time in forever I wasn't sure what was in his eyes. It was hate, sadness, fury, a plea for help, rage, depression…his walls were crumbling. He tore my hands from him and stood, looking down at me and knowing I had discovered something that I shouldn't. I sat up and gazed at him, my eyes full of sorrow.
"What the hell happened to you? You get cut in a fight or somethin'?"
He didn't answer, his face was blank and I knew what was happening.
"Dammit Daryl, don't you dare try ta' shut me out! That silent shit don't work with me 'member? I don't fall for it! Now tell me what the hell happened to you!"I growled.
I wasn't angry at him, but I was annoyed at the fact that he had gotten hurt, who knows how long ago, and didn't bother telling me.
He was still silent. I stood up, jaw clenched and fists by my sides. He stared to leave and I grabbed his shoulder to turn him around and he flinched away as if I'd just burned him.
"Don't! Just don't! I don't need yer sorry ass looks or yer fuckin' pitty! I got my ass handed to me by my drunk ass Daddy, that's what happened! Every damn day my skin got tore up from my old man an' he ain't give two shits 'bout it, no matter how hard I screamed! How hard I cried! 'Leven years old havin' ta take the role of a man n' protect my Ma from him an' she 'probly ain't even know who I was! Hell, she was so doped up she ain't know she had kids half the time! He treated me like I wasn't his an' I ain't have nobody! Merle was locked away an' I had to face that shit by myself, I had ta fend for myself, by myself! I wasn't nothin' but a damn baby! But you think he cared? You think he gave a shit 'bout me or Merle? You think he gave a shit when I went out an' got lost in them damn woods almost 2 weeks?!"
Everything had come out, all the years of keeping it locked away deep down so that it could be forgotten, had come out in a single angry lash. All he needed was an outlet, and there it was.
He stood there huffing and fuming, eyes like daggers and face losing its angered red shade.
"Don't say anything, not a single word. He doesn't need your opinion. This is his closure, his problem, and his release. You have no say here."
My eyes filled with tears at the thought of how much pain he went through and as a child, a child for Christ's sake!An innocent baby who should be thinking about Santa Clause and cartoons had so much weight thrown onto him with no choice but to take the hits and keep on going. He had to have a strong mentality because not everyone could deal with such an enormous amount of pain on a daily basis; I don't think I could've survived one day of it. I'd be the first to run far away.
The thing is, I've had friends who've told me about their fucked up lives whether it be destroyed by drugs, alcohol, gambling, abortions, domestic disputes, and I've helped them get better lives….but this…this was so surreal and out of my reach that I was rendered speechless. What could I possibly do to help him? It's not like I could just kiss his scars away along with the memories they held. I couldn't do anything to his Dad except stomp on his grave, wherever it may be. I couldn't yell at Merle for being so irresponsible and getting locked away, well actually I could, but the way he said it made me think that Merle was unaware of this violence in his absence…maybe Merle was the one taking the hits for Daryl when they were kids…
I wasn't crying, but the overflown tears rolled down my cheeks as I thought of what probably happened in his past and how he just dealt with it as it was nothing.
He must have seen the tears because he walked in front of me and wiped them away with his thumb; I looked up at him, tears still threatening to escape. He gently grabbed my chin.
"Get some sleep…"
As his hand dropped I caught his palm and squeezed it tightly. I felt horrible, but I knew he wouldn't want to talk about it anytime soon. Even in my bizarre mindset, I knew he needed comforting and he knew it too. I pulled him back as I scooted over in the bed so he could lay down, I thought he was going to leave and I'd have to watch my most valuable friend walk out of my life for good, but he got in. When he was settled, his back against the wall, I rested next to him, my face immediately burring in his chest, tears still full in my eyes. His arms slowly wrapped around me and gave a tight tug almost to secure I wouldn't leave.
I didn't realize what had happened until my brain was shutting down...
He was comforting me.
In that moment, this side of Daryl Dixon would forever be burned into my memory.