Title: Damaged Goods
Summary: In the world turned upside down, overrun by the undeed, the paths of two misfits will cross for a brief time. A collection of snippets revolving around relationship between Daryl Dixon and Kagome Higurashi. Action takes place between season 3 and 4. Miniscule AU
Warning: It's the walking dead. What do you expect? It's full of the dead. But seriously, it's mostly romance.
The thin rays of light barely filtered through the abundance of foliage, coloring the world in various shades of gray as Daryl followed the trail he noticed some half an hour ago thanks to the easily distinguishable impressions of almond shaped hoofs left in a muddy area.
Going deeper into the forest, his broken in trappers did not squeak and the dark gray, dusty pants and the brown signature shirt with ripped off sleeves blended seamlessly with the muted background. His arms and face were littered with smudges in various hues, the dirt camouflaging him further.
Spotting an interesting shade he halted in front of it straining ears for any distinctive sounds. He was surrendered by the swishing leaves, rustling bushes and occasional twitter of birds. Swift and most of all airborne, they were not as afraid of walkers as their grounded brethren but even their song is cut short when a geek nears their vicinity. His nostrils moved as he inhaled, looking for the telltale odour of rotting flesh but came only with the rich smell of the decomposing vegetation. All was well.
Crouching he pressed his hand next to the print, before lifting it and assessing the difference. The ridges on the original one were almost as sharp as on the one he just made. Heartened, he progressed further each passing disturbance, a broken shrub or grass, a chewed, moist plant, confirming a deer passed that way not long ago.
Stepping over a twig, he was determined to succeed conscious of the quickly dwindling supplies. Additional 50 pounds of meat would be a powerful injection of calories to their extended community consisting of the Woodbury survivors and several groups that recently arrived to the prison. The farming effort started after Hershel's suggestion was in its infancy. A promising endeavour possibly allowing them to become self-sustainable but it will be months in the making and they had to eat now.
Jerking, he brought the crossbow closer to his face as a flock of birds lifted. For a moment the mass of fluttering wings made so much noise it was impossible to tell what startled them. As he scanned the vicinity a crunch and a flash of faint light caught his attention.
Following trouble wasn't smart but ignoring it tended to came back and bite you in the ass. Not to mention that the deer was surely gone.
Pressing his lips together, he stepped from the trail. Cold sweat on his skin, he moved in the general direction of the noise. Progressing in slow, cautious movements, he paused every so often, cocking his head and straining ears. There was a faint sound there, but despise catching it, he could not tell what is was exactly.
Arriving close to a small, open meadow, still hidden in the shade, he was blinded by a brilliant light. Blinking rapidly, tears run his face as he forced himself to keep one eye open and on the viewfinder scanning the area. Nothing. The space was empty. Maybe it wasn't real?
Moving along the outskirts of the circle, under the cover of trees, he squatted next to the disturbed patch on the ground. Brushing over a very fresh set of human prints, he judged the spread. It was wide, wider than anything a walker could leave. Even when they tried to run goaded by the iron smell and a promise of gorging on flesh, they could never make such a big step. This person was running. The size suggested it was a teenager or a woman.
Standing up, he noted the returning sounds. Tweeting and rustling that was becoming more frequent were almost like a slowly released breath. The tension escaped the forest. It was safe again.
Gazing ahead, his eyes were open and yet unseeing. Maybe it was real.
He turned around remembering the disappearing outline of a female body and a tress of black hair swallowed in the outburst of pinkish light.
One moment Kagome was asleep and the next her eyes were wide open. Her body stiff perceiving a threat that her mind did not catch yet on a conscious level. Gripping the trunk of a sturdy branch that served for her makeshift bed, she slowly released the strap that secured her chest, praying that the metal clasp will not jingle, pinpointing her location. Tilting forward as much as the other belts, one close to her waist and one around her legs, allowed her, she scanned the ground.
Drawing her breath through the teeth, she covered her mouth with one hand hoping the faint whiz was not heard. "The Hunter" as she came to call him was searching for her again. Narrowing her brows, she slowly lowered her arm, trying to see as much of him as possible. There was a bit of danger in doing that but the experience taught her that people rarely looked to the sky. They did not do this before the end of the world and certainly they not after, when most of the threats walked or crawled on the ground.
His body seemed lithe, moving with a certain ease that was acquired through lengthy practice and the certainty of each step suggested he was familiar with the outdoors. The knife and most of all the crossbow he held expertly hinted he was familiar with it prior to the outbreak and as he was using it to either hunt the animals or kill the undeed, she nicknamed him "the hunter". Zombie killer would be soo unoriginal. Nowadays, everybody killed the walking dead but she rarely saw a person who could actually track, kill and skin an animal. Most stayed on the canned food looting houses, shops and supermarkets.
Lifting a brow at the rope of bushy tailed rodents already hanging at his arm she looked up confirming the sun recently rose and yet he caught so many already. He was quite a skilled trapper but she doubted he was that good. He must have set some traps. Touching her lip with a finger, she decided she will search for one later as it would be a nice change to eat something beside dug roots, picked up fruits and stale energy bars.
He halted for a moment, turning around. She could imagine the scowl on his face and the ants crawling his skin. Good instincts!
Looking at the top of his head, she wrinkled her nose at the sight of greasy, unkempt hair. The parts of skin she could see from up here weren't any better but then again, hygiene wasn't her top priority as well, she thought as she run her hand over the days old braid that was held together by rubber bands, dirt and stubbornness.
Realising he started to walk away rather than towards her, she counted to three hundred once he disappeared. Hoping it was closer to five minutes than a blink of an eye that it seemed to be, Kagome unstrapped. Sliding down to the ground she went in the other direction.
Absently wondering what will be his reaction once he will realise she was almost next to the prison, she bounced deciding to leave extra deep prints and few broken twigs so there will be no chance that he will miss it.
She liked their game.
"Daryl wants to come in" Gleen stated as he run towards Rick commenting on the silhouette quite not completely hidden in the trees.
"You and you" Rick shouted pointing at the closet people "go there" he waved to the right side, way after the tower "make as much noise as possible. Draw the walkers away from the gate." Trotting dutifully, they grabbed crowbars and knives running them against the net. Clamor summoning the undeed as expected.
Shortly after, the redneck dashed towards the gate that opened swiftly and closed the moment he was in. In the chaos the grind of metal and the steps barely registered. Since they have called them, now they had to kill them so with teeth clenched and faces twisted they started their grim duty.
Taking the rope off his arms, he passed the squirrels to the Korean who oblivious to the tense looks shared between two men took it to the kitchen.
Leading Daryl to the separated field and away from the crowds, the discussion furthermore muted by mindless moaning, Rick asked "Any troubles?"
"Maybe" he slid the crossbow planting it between his legs "She came close to the prison today and she made sure we will notice."
"What is she playing at?"
"Difficult to say but I don't think she means us harm."
Eyebrows shooting up in surprise Rick threw him a wandering glance. Daryl wasn't a naive man and what's more important he was a good judge of characters "Why?"
"I've been looking for her for days and did not see her once but…" he paused for a second staring at the wall of trees "I felt observed. I'm sure she saw me several times, even today." he added, the amazement creeping despise aiming for a flat tone. "Instead of running in the other direction she backtracked to the border of the forest and left us a message."
Taking a half shuffle back, Rick's face became stern "What was the message about?"
Hand diving into his pocket, he flung a small, dark object toward him. He caught it between his hands. Opening them, he stared at the rectangular shape incredulously. "An energy bar?" he stated the obvious.
"Aha" Daryl confirmed, a smug smile lurking in the corners. It was good to see he wasn't the only one baffled by the girls' actions.
"What do you think she meant?"
"'M not sure how it's where you're from but where I'm from sharing food is good."
"So it's an offering" he peeked dubiously at the innocent bar. "Should we respond?" Rick asked no one in particular, rather thinking out loud, weighing different options against the safety of his people.
"It's up to you, but someone with this kind of skills could be very useful."
Mulling this additional tidbit over, Rick threw the bar, returning it to Daryl "Ok."
And that's how the next step was decided.
It was two days later when Daryl sauntered to the kitchen, mischievously stealing two cookies over Carol's shoulder, one bit in his mouth before she had a chance to turn around and slap his hands.
"You know it's only one per person." she said in a harsh voice while her eyes twinkled.
He looked between her and the cookie, his pleading gaze encompassing more than words.
Covering her mouth, her shoulders shook before she turned. Taking a deep breath, she passed him a small packet, the cookies still sealed in plastic."I heard you're going hunting. This will carry better."
"Thanks" he nodded before retreating.
His heart evening out he realised how different this experience was to each one he had from home. Even though he knew it was a small, trifle thing he could not stop comparing it to his childhood when every excuse was a good one for a beating. A stealing? Certainly. Even a suspicion would suffice.
Shuddering all over like a dog shaking off the droplets after a bath, he left the unpleasant memories behind him.
It was a second day in a row as he crouched in the bushes. His back leaning on the trunk as he waited for the elusive female hoping that the dangling packet of cookies will call her in a siren song that according to the experienced boys at school universally, affected every girl. Although, his sore muscles, spasming from the forced position and the semi soaked shoes were opposing the theory with much success.
Grimacing, he stood up. Waggling his legs, first the left one and then when the circulation started running, the right one, he narrowed his eyes at the hanging bag as if it personally offended him. Taking the squirrels (again!), he tottered back, his legs becoming more stable as he went.
A part of him started to wonder if she was not actually a figment of his imagination.
As always, she proved him wrong when the next day it was gone and in its stead a bulbous vegetable hanged.
Daryl followed a fresh trail, his jaw clenched in muted annoyance. Despise a strong desire to come back and hunt for his ghost he could not come to the forest for many days as they finally collected parts: wood, ropes, wheels, huge pipes and most of all steel doors that were essential to constructing an extra gate that would make the prison that much safer.
The project in itself was quite a substantial one. There were people digging holes and cutting wood; nailing together the boards and the stakes; setting the doors and slipping the ropes. All the rest made sure they were safe, killing the walkers in dozens all day long and the next day and the next day.
Once it was finished and proved to work as anticipated there was a feeling of deep fatigue but also a meaningful accomplishment that glued the community together more than any other activity before. It was a shame he could not truly enjoy it.
Nagged by an uneasy feeling he hurried to the woods, throwing behind his back promises of fresh meat (squirrels? Carol chuckled) but as he entered, he spotted a print, he couldn't ignore. Staring in the direction of the meadow, he turned around, following the trail.
It was too precious in this uncertain times, being a mode of transport independent of the dwindling supplies of petrol. Not practical when traveling in larger groups but ideal for scouting missions and uncertain terrain.
A horse.
He had to find it faster than the walkers! His eyes shone with a new resolve.
Losing the path and backtracking just to find it again, killing an occasional geek, he continued well until mid morning when he climbed a slight elevation. The vantage point gave a clear line of sight in most directions and he stopped satisfied spying the grey-white specimen of a wild horse. It was beautiful. How it survived with this unique and partly bright coloring this past year was beyond him but he was glad of it.
Tying the rope, he slowly meandered down stalking the creature. Lifting the head from the stream it perked up its ears. Daryl halted, holding breath, hoping something else will catch it attention so he could continue before it will be spooked.
Assured, it lowered its head again returning to drinking the water. Daryl resumed his trek, each step more careful than the previous one. Sweating he was finally as close as he dared. Taking a deep breath he pounced throwing the rope at its head. The horse jerked back and he missed.
Oddly enough, instead of running away, it increased the distance by few steps and was looking at him, its eyes big and shining. He wanted to thank the gods or his luck for giving him a second chance. Hunching, he diminished in size trying to become as small as possible, not a threat at all while slowly nearing the horse. Tapping nervously its hoof over the ground it waited, following his every move. He failed again but the animal did not run still. He was soo lucky!
After what seemed like an eternity but was probably an hour or two he was ready to change his mind as he plopped down on a fallen trunk. It was not a godsend but a spawn from hell. Its neigh was more like a derisive guffaw and the sparks in its eyes only added to the image of mocking superiority. Now he knew how it avoided the walkers, if it could avoid him from several steps.
"Do you want to eat it?" a painful rasp assaulted his ears as a female sat next to him. He jolted lifting his crossbow, for the first time seeing his ghosts. She even moved like one. He did not hear her at all.
"Could you maybe point the bolt in the other direction?" she continued in a voice more like damaged stings of aged violin jerked by an ignorant imbecile. "Please?" she added as an afterthought cocking her head to the side.
Acquiescing, he lowered the crossbow. Not quite putting it to the ground, he dumbly gaped at her.
"Has no one taught you it's rude to stare?" she rebuked.
Jolting. he turned towards the horse that was nibbling on the grass.
He involuntarily peeked at her from the corners of eyes as a creaky chuckle turned into an uncontrollable attack of cough.
"Are you ok?" his brows furrowed as she bended in half trying to catch her breath.
"Fine, fine" she quickly assured, waving her hand to dismiss his worry.
Hand fisted, he waited as she straightened up, a look of relief on her face.
Gaze wandering from her to the horse and back, he confirmed the girl was indeed small as he suspected. Her head probably reaching to his shoulders and maybe not even there. She was dirty, her shoes and clothes and skin. Truthfully all of her was dirty and there was a distinct odour of unwashed body wafting from her. Under the dried mud he could only distinguish bits of her but the almond shaped eyes, the small nose and full lips suggested she was Asian. He wasn't quite sure which one exactly. They are looked the same to him but remembering his blunder with Gleen, a man he now trusted and respected, he didn't want to repeat it.
"Do you want to eat it?" she asked again.
"No" he adamantly denied even though rationally he knew that if he was hungry enough he would eat it without any doubts. "I wanted to bring it with me so it would be safe from the walkers."
"Walkers?" she rolled the world inside her mouth as if she tried it for the first time. "Ahh. How noble of you to try to save a helpless animal." she smiled serenely.
"Didn't seems so helpless minutes ago" he mumbled under his breath.
"No, I suppose she didn't." Kagome giggled.
"She's yours?"
"She's as long mine as she allows it." Peeking at the horse in questions he assessed it sounded just about right.
"Would you like to join us?"
Her eyes unfocused, she gazed far into the distance "It might be nice not to worry about the mons-, the walkers for a change."
Standing up, she clucked summoning the horse which warily looked at him but followed. Petting her mane, she murmured sweetly into her ear but the volume did not allow him to eavesdrop. Fishing out a piece of wild apple from her satchel, she jumped on the horse riding bareback and with no harness. Outstretching her hand she ordered "Come."
"Are you sure?" he asked dubiously "She is small. She will tire quickly and there might be walkers ahead." Wetting finger in her mouth, she pulled it out and sat motionlessly like people who sometimes try to asses the direction of the wind. "There isn't many of them and in any case she is a magical horse. I put spells and talismans on her, see?" she whispered lifting a curious rope with many knots. "As long as it holds they will not attack." Dropping it back, it was cancelled again by the coarse hair.
Taking her hand, he climbed behind for the first time wondering if bringing her to the prison is a good idea and yet the thought of abandoning her did not sit well with him. She might not be all there, but who was these days? He was certain, though, she wasn't evil or malicious and someone who can survive that long alone has to have a lot of useful skills.
It was a surprise for everyone but Rick when Daryl came back with a tiny woman in tow although even he was not expecting the horse.
A/N - I know I should not start a new story but d*** this one did not want to let go of me for weeks so I spend all my sunday researching and writing it. Hopefully, now I will be free to continue others. I have tried to find good quality, non-slash crossovers with Daryl but it's tough. So I have wrote my own. I leave decision whether it's to the reader, so please feel free to leave a review. I encourage it.
Some raw facts:
We do not know how old Daryl is but if we take into consideration the actors' age he would be born in 1969 and if the outbreak started in 2010 (when the series started) it would make him 41 which for me is too old so I changed one digit and made him born in 1979. I hope you will forgive this change but for me in some aspects especially when forming the relationships (even platonic) Daryl is so green and innocent, I can't believe in the 40. It's soo cute :) Considering his upbringing and adulthood, it's understandable. Although he is assexual in the show, I do not believe he never was with a woman, I just do not think, he was ever in close, good - quality relationship so he has some growing up (late blooming/late puberty) ahead of him. The action between 3rd and fourth season happens in 2011 which makes Daryl 32
Kagome was born in Autumn 1982 so she is 3 years younger and 29.
Character death wise, I planned only one death that will mess up the storyline and somehow affect Carol but that's it. It is therefore a very slight (miniscule) AU.