Title: Stolen Moment
Summary: Daryl tries to help Merle out of a situation he's in but to do that he needs money, and fast. Easier said than done.
Notes: Apparently I wanted to write something different. It's AU but the characters are still gonna be true to themselves, just not the way they are if they're being killed by zombies. ;)
This might be a one shot, but I might consider extending it.
There was a table in a corner of the coffee shop and Daryl sat there, black coffee steaming between his hands as he scoped the place out.
The seat he'd chosen gave him a chance to study everyone around him in the bustling room. It was busy enough that he knew if the right opportunity presented itself, he'd be able to take advantage and not be spotted. He'd been watching a young couple who seemed so into one another that he was sure they'd slip up soon enough, but then his eye was drawn across the room to a woman's purse on the floor. No one beside it, the couple close by was busy cleaning up the mess their kids were making and Daryl didn't waste a moment more.
He left his seat and walked purposely down the narrow aisle, swooping down to pick the purse up quickly in a swift movement unnoticed as he made his way out of the shop. And as he stepped through the door, he knew he'd made it, knew he was clear, he just had to find a place out of the way to get the cash and dump the rest of it.
And he would have done it, if a woman hadn't come walking right into him in her haste to get into the coffee shop, walking straight into him with an oompf. She stumbled backwards slightly as her lean frame was no match for his sturdy build.
"My purse," she said noticing it in Daryl's hands and his eyes met hers. She seemed to come to the realisation that he was no good citizen looking for the owner, or about to head to the police station with the lost item at the same time the guilt hit him at what he was about to do.
His eyes dropped down from hers and he shifted nervously.
"Found it on the floor, was jus' lookin' for the owner. Thought ya might be out here somewhere," he said quickly.
She must have known it was a lie. There was nothing convincing about it. Nothing about Daryl that said he wouldn't rob from a woman given half the chance. He held the purse out to her roughly and she grasped at it.
"Thank you so much," she said, her voice sounding nervous despite her best attempts to hide it.
He looked at her briefly, the way her hands grasped around the purse in her hands and the bruise peaking out from the sleeve of her brown cardigan she wore.
And then the way the fabric was pulled slightly down one side and he followed the movement to see a small girl holding onto her mother's cardigan, pulling the fabric as she held tight, most of her body hidden behind her mother's but he spotted her thin pale legs, littered with bruises too. He'd have dismissed them as a child being clumsy as they were prone too if he hadn't seen the mother's bruises too.
Either way, it was no concern of his.
He turned to leave before she called to him and he stopped, looked back to her. She was rifling through her purse. "A reward is the right thing to do..." she said as she fiddled to pull out a note from the few that she carried with her. "Here," she said, holding out a crumpled up twenty dollar bill.
"S'fine. Keep it. Buy something nice for your little girl."
She kept her hand extended, wanting him to take it but uncertain how to make him accept it. Her hand fell to her side when she realised there was nothing she could say. "Thank you," she repeated.
Daryl nodded slightly, angry with himself as he walked away.
He'd let Merle down. He needed the money. Needed Daryl to come through for him while he laid low at Daryl's place.
And he'd failed him. Like always.
Of course he had. he was a Dixon. Failure was in their blood.
He headed back home, ready to face Merle's wrath.