Warning: Profanity, M/M (slash), sexual harassment.
Different Things Dixon Does
"Hey Dixon!"
Daryl's eyes cut wildly behind him, his index finger over thinly drawn lips as he motions Jesse forward. When the blond doesn't stop catcalling, however, Daryl leans over hastily, holds him easily in a half-nelson beside him in the basement.
"Yo! What the fuck, man?"
"Shut the fuck up!" Daryl hisses, breath beating down on the shell of his ear. He looks up at the plastered ceiling with keen eyes, waiting to hear his father wake up, the creak of his favorite recliner, but it never comes. "This is some sensitive shit I'm working on," he takes the blunt he has set away beside him and takes a pull, blowing it out the side.
Releasing the blond, Jesse steps back with a grimace, smoothing out his disheveled sweatshirt. "Not fucking cool."
"That's what I said to your mom last night," Daryl says after another pull. "After that shitty blowjob she gave me."
"That's because you're a fucking queer!" Jesse spits furiously.
"I ain't a fucking queer," Daryl grits out, holding his blunt between his teeth as he rolls another. "I just fuck queers. Occasionally."
"Man, what-fucking-ever," Jesse slides his hand down his face, trying to get the image out of his head. Frowning, he sets his hand on the counter, gesturing with his other hand. "How many of those you got rolled?"
"Enough to get ready to roll," Daryl says vaguely.
"Shit. Better be," Jesse grouses out. "I need to make this money."
"And I don't?" Daryl rounds in on him, puffing out his chest. "At least you got parents that give two shits; I got a motherfucking bastard, and Merle."
"Yeah, parents up my ass, I got it real good," Jesse rolls his eyes, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
Daryl doesn't say anything because, maybe, just maybe, shit for him would be different if he had parents up his ass. He takes a last pull of the cannabis and smothers it out roughly against the table. "Let's get goin'," he says, stuffing the weed in his bag. Up the stairs, said motherfucking bastard is passed out on the couch, but luckily he's so far gone he can't see straight. Merle was up in prison for dealin', so someone's got to pay the bills, right?
He heads out with his bookbag with Jesse in tow because apparently he knows people - sorry, he's got fucking channels - that would be interested in a cut and he definitely needs a take right about now, since the only thing they have up in the fridge is some wonderbread and a jar of pickles.
They roll out on Merle's bike, the roar of the engine underneath feeling like freedom as the wind whips against his skin and maybe he'll eat an actual fucking meal after tonight's deal.
And then, just then, sirens ignite behind him and the red and blue lights feel like fire at his back.
Rick purses his lips, going through the file when he hears Shane come up beside him. His partner takes a glance over his shoulder, examining the mug shot. "You know him?"
"No, not really," Rick adds on. "Kid's only 17 years old."
"So, a screw-up in training," Shane chortles with a shake of his head. "Sounds about right."
"Sounds like this kid had it rough," Rick corrects with a frown. "Been in and out of the system before age 15, and under the guidance of his father and brother, it's no wonder."
Shane takes the file from Rick, observes it more closely. "Daryl Dixon…yeah, I know who this is. His brother Merle's a real grade-A asshole. And Will Dixon? A waste of space. Looks pretty open and shut to me. He's not making bail," Shane observes. At the crease in his partner's eyes, Shane shakes his head. "Rick, I'm telling you, from the stock this kid is from? He'll be lucky if he's not in prison before 21."
Rick nods, but it doesn't feel right.
He heads down past the booking lobby to the holding cell occupied by two junkies sleeping on opposite cots, and Daryl Dixon squatting down with his head against the wall in the corner. "Would you like to make your phone call now?"
"Ain't got no one t' call," Daryl groans out, still looking at the ceiling. Finally, he bows his head down and looks him right in the eye with a lucid intensity that throws Rick off. "But I bet you knew tha', Officer Friendly."
Rick taps his knuckles against the cell door, shaking his head. "You've got to have someone." He thinks back to the bust, "You tell me the name of the kid that was riding with you, and I'll see what I can work out."
"I ain't tellin' you shit," Daryl frowns. Even if Jesse is a punk ass son of a bitch, he won't say anything. Getting off the bike and ditching when they got stopped. He should tell because he deserved whatever he got coming, but Daryl wasn't no snitch and it was stayin' that way.
His hand runs through his scuffy brown hair, trying not to think about a few monetary things - like the fact that if the mortgage wasn't paid by the end of the week, he and his dad would end up losing their shitty house, not that he would care. There was also his job at Peletier's lot detailing cars- Ed was definitely going to chew his ass out, probably end up firing him too. School...who gives a shit about school.
And then there was still that whole 'hadn't eaten for the past 12 hours' thing that was literally gnawing at him from the inside. His stomach inadvertently growls loudly in protest at this in the cell, and Daryl looks away from Rick's piteous eyes.
"Need something to eat, kid?" Rick's voice invades the cell from the outside, and Daryl stubbornly shakes his head. Rick sighs, "Look, I...I'd really like to help you. But I can't do that if you're not going to be honest with me, so I'll start again: would you like something to eat?"
Daryl doesn't move, doesn't say anything, at first. Finally, despite himself, he nods, still not making eye contact.
Rick tips his head forward, "I'll see what I can do."
A couple of days, and a few sandwiches later, Daryl makes bail, much to his surprise.
After the first night, they forced him to change into the county jumpsuit for hygienic reasons, so being able to finally put his feet back into his army boots is a pretty damn good feeling. He doesn't want to get his hopes up because it's not like Merle's out of prison, but his only other family lived out in the boonies, and maybe, just maybe, the old bastard realized he was missing for once.
As expected, his old man couldn't give two shits because when he's processed and escorted out the lobby, it's Jesse that's waiting on him, all twitchy and anxious and shit. Daryl frowns as they hand back his possessions and ducks out with Jesse who looked more than happy to leave than he felt.
"You paid my bail?" Daryl cocks his head as they head out the station.
Jesse shrugs, dipping his head. "Had to get my shit together first, and then convince my parents that there was a field trip coming up I would really benefit from." At that, Daryl scoffs. "Yo, I'm sorry man, but think of it this way: if I didn't dip out, both of our asses would still be stuck in there."
"Yeah, you did me a real favor," Daryl rolls his eyes. "Still got a court date at county, house up for foreclosure...think I was better off on the inside if you know what I mean."
"Screw that man, no one is better off on the inside," Jesse frowns unlocking his car and Daryl hesitates at the passenger side. "C'mon, get it."
"You brought the beaner-mobile," the younger Dixon says with a sneer.
"You know what then, walk your ungrateful hillbilly ass home; I had to pull money out my ass and risk being identified, thank you fucking much!" Jesse hisses over the roof, and then slams his door once he enters the car. The hydraulics raise the car up, and then lower it closer to the cement and Daryl leans his head back in resignation before entering the car with a slam of his own.
They pull out and head down the road and mostly because he feels like he should say something, Daryl says, "Those cops that stopped us were Sheriff's deputies or some shit."
"Is that why that one guy looked like he was from the Andy Griffin show?"
"Yeah," Daryl nods. "They were bustin' my balls about you, mainly the one with the hat." Who, as far as cops go, wasn't as big of an asshole as he would have expected.
"…You didn't say anything, right?"
"Nah, I didn't say anything about your ass, Pinkman. If anything, I did you a favor 'cause I'm pretty sure that other guy would've loved to get his hands on a twitchy thing like you."
"Fuck you," Jesse says with a laugh.
Rick surveys this kid with a critical eye, "I'm going to be at your hearing next month on the fifteenth."
"Don't do me any favors," Daryl mumbles, scratching at his temple.
Rick smiles despite himself. "Part of the job, actually. I'm required to be present at any and all of the hearings that have anyone I've personally brought in," he flips back through the manilla folder in his hands.
"Now, I can look at your record for any recent arrests or activity, but I canonly look as far as this county; do you have a record anywhere else?" At Daryl's silence, he leans forward, "Do you have a criminal record anywhere else?"
"Heard you the first time," Daryl frowns. "No."
Rick nods, "Okay. The motorcycle you were riding on was impounded," Daryl winces at that, "And with your ticket, bail has been set at $832." Daryl buries his head in his hands, tries to force the number out of his mind. "Now, they're going to allow you to have a phone call, I suggest you call someone. If you can't make bail, you will be here until the hearing on the fifteenth where the judge will make the final decision."
"And what'll tha' be?" Daryl grits out, a migraine starting to form due to the lack of food.
Rick's lips set in a fine line. "It can be from staying in county for another 30 days, to juvenile detention, or community service," the sheriff deputy sighs. "It's her prerogative."
"Her?" Daryl questions dubiously.
"Yes, her," Rick looks through the file again. "Judge Harrison."
Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit...Daryl groans. It just keeps getting better. Never mind the fact that Merle was going to murder him for getting his bike impounded after all that money Daryl had to dish to get it out, or the fact that he and his father may well be homeless in the next few days, but now the mother of the girl he hooks up with on the regular (because they've known each other since forever, and she gets a kick out of being his one and only female squeeze) is going to be the one to determine his fate.
"Shit," Daryl mutters under his breath.
"Do you have any questions?" Rick asks with an authoritative southern accent that if things were different, Daryl would think was hot as hell. As things were, it was just more crap in this shit storm that he had to deal with.
"Got a thousand dollars?" Daryl asks. When Rick doesn't reply, the young delinquent turns toward the wall, "Figures."
Rick tips his hat, "I'll see you in court, then. Good luck, Daryl."
Fuck his life.
Premise of the story is basically this: AU where Daryl is a teenage delinquent (around 17 years old) who keeps getting busted/detained for minor offences by Rick. They become friendly because Rick realizes Daryl isn't a bad kid... but then Daryl begins to blatantly make sexual passes at him. Rick eventually succumbs to Daryl's advances. Blah, blah, blah, inappropriateness, slash, ect. Ummm...haven't written slash in ages, certainly never posted any, so don't judge me too hard. Ages, locations, ect. are pretty random in this AU, so please feel free to ask questions.
A few things, as I'm sure people have figured.
1) Jesse IS Jesse Pinkman from Breaking Bad. Why? Because I watched it while I was on spring break and he just sort of snuck in. Plus, I wanted Daryl to have a friend type character, but I didn't want it to be Merle (too obvious) and any of the other male characters in the show would have been an odd fit pre-ZA (i.e. Glenn, T-Dog, ect).
2) Rick and Shane are still the same age (Rick being 28, Shane 25, none of that love triangle shizz with Lori - yet). Daryl is 17, making Merle around the same age as Shane. Other ages will vary depending on plot.
3) Daryl is bi.
More soon~
DAC