Ok, you guys. No guessing what's coming!

Let's do the disclaimer thing...I don't own or make any claims to the WD characters, but I will take them out of their original packaging and play with them. Benedryl is a nifty trademarked product of McNeil/Johnson&Johnson which allows me to mow the yard and breathe when all the neighbors cut hay...

(odour = Fr., smell, odor, scent...just in case you thought I spelled it wrong)

Odour de Dixon

Chapter 1

You could smell him before you saw him. That was how strong it was. The overpowering sickeningly-sweet gasoline and unidentifiable undertone smell. Unmistakable. Like the heavy scent of pot, once you smelled it, you never forgot and could identify it from a mile off. In this case, a mile off wouldn't have been enough to stop the nauseating stench. Then I heard it. Feet. Running feet. Heavy boots on hard dry earth and tinder-dry grass. Rustling, clanking, heavy breathing, cursing. Running hard. Running fast. Closer and closer.

"Oh, Jesus Christ!" I blurted out, setting the coffee pot back on the grate and standing up. I put my hand up to cover my nose. "Who pissed off the..." I turned around in time to see him running full speed through camp, his Horton bumping wildly on his back, heading straight down the worn path for the wide bend in the deep creek that we'd been using for a bathing area. My jaw dropped as I watched him strip off his shirt, then the grimy brown wife-beater he wore under it, and then start on the buckle of his pants, out of site before they were tossed aside as well. What glimpse of his face I did manage, looked like a combination of assorted muck and dirt , beet red where skin peeked through. His hair was sticking straight up in all directions. "...skunk!" I turned back to camp to see if anybody else had witnessed Daryl Dixon's near-streaking incident. No one else, although Dale stuck his head out of the RV door and asked if anybody else had smelled that.

I went to my tent and gathered a couple towels, a bar of that harshest soap I had, and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide out of the box of medical and first aid supplies. I stopped at the clothesline that was sagging with still-damp clothes from the day's wash and picked off a pair of Daryl's work pants and one of his shirts. So easily identifiable. Almost like his own personal uniform. I headed through camp towards the creek, arms loaded, stopping just long enough to pick up the bottle of liquid dish soap off the table next to the plastic basin that served as a makeshift sink.

I hurried down the path and stopped when I saw him standing there. Waist deep in water, shirtless. Pants-less. Thank god the water was dark. Pawing and rubbing at his hair, head, face and neck. Ducking under the water, bobbing up to scrub at his head and neck again, over and over, singly focused on his task and oblivious to my presence. I cleared my throat loudly, my head turned up, mouth screwed up trying not to laugh out loud. He smelled, my God, he literally STUNK.

"Not fuckin' funny." he said. "Fucker was hanging on a tree. Got me right in tha' face 's I walked by."

"Uhm, yeah. That sucks. I brought you some stuff that might help." I took a couple steps closer to the water and stopped. Daryl started to walk towards the edge of the water and then stopped when he realized that, well, he was about to cross a line. "Catch." I said, tossing him the bar of soap. That'll help with the rest of you." I gestured at his chest and...further down. "You're gonna need to wash your hair with dish soap and rise it with peroxide. That'll help with get the skunk oil out of your hair."

"Ain't puttin' no p'roxide on my hair." he said firmly. "Turn it...lighter."

"What, you mean dye it? Blonde?" I giggled. "It's not strong enough to do that, geez, homophobe much? All it's going to do is take out the greasy skunk-spray so you don't...uhm...you won't..."

"Fuckin' stink."

"Yeah. Stink."

"Fuck!" he hit the water with a hand, sending a spray of drops arc-ing halfway across the creek. "Burns like shit."

"Don't wash out your eyes with creek water. We can do that back at camp with some clean water. " I tossed him the dish soap. "Use this like shampoo."

"How the fuck is Dawn gonna get this shit outta my hair?"

"It takes out grease. They wash the crude oil off the wildlife with this stuff. It'll work. I've used it on my dog before when he got a hold of a skunk. Now stop yakking and get to work. I don't like the way your eyes are looking."

Daryl scrubbed and scrubbed with the dish soap and rinsed until his scalp was pink. I tossed him the bottle of peroxide and instructions to pour it on his hair and scalp, rinsing out the remnants of the skunk spray that the soap didn't get. It was hard to tell if it was any better, the scent of skunk was lingering in the air like an invisible fog. Daryl was turned around, his back to me most of the time. When he turned around finally, I sucked in my breath in shock.

"I know." he said quietly.

"Shit, Daryl. We gotta' get you back to camp." I tossed him a towel and told him I was going to turn my back, that his clothes were over here on the log with a towel for his hair. I backed away still trying not to stare. His eyes were red as fire, puffy and swollen so much that it had to be difficult for him to see. His face was blotchy and swollen as well. He looked miserable. I'm sure he felt miserable. I heard splashing and a lot of grunting and the sound of a towel being sluffed over bare skin. I heard him grumbling about "no fuckin' underwear" and had to catch myself to keep from turning around. He coughed when he was done and I saw him sitting on the towel, putting his boots on with no socks. He looked at me slowly from under his down-turned head and I could see how much pain he was in.

"Oh, Daryl." I whispered. "Let's get you back. Leave your stuff. I'll burn your clothes later." There was a bit of protest, which disintegrated when I reminded him there was no way we could ever get the skunk smell out of them, that they were ruined for good. He was lucky his boots didn't take a direct hit...or the Horton. He stumbled uncharacteristically a couple times on the way back to camp. I walked behind him closely and make sure he headed for his tent. I left him there on his own and went to find Dale and some antihistamines to help with the allergic reaction that Daryl was so obviously having. By this time, everyone in camp knew that he'd been skunked, but they were shocked to hear that there was a real problem.

Dale provided me with a bottle of Benedryl pills and a handful of mild antibiotics, in case Daryl had scratched his eyes or rubbed creek-water in them. God knows what was really in that water. I took him some bottled water for rinsing and more for drinking and headed to his tent. In the space of the ten minutes I'd been with Dale at the RV, Daryl's eyes had finished swelling completely shut. He was laying on his mattress, a faded blue towel still draped around his neck. "Hey, it's me." I said softly. "I brought you more stuff."

"I can't fuckin' see." he said. His voice was tight, strained.

"I know. You're having some kind of allergic reaction to that skunk." I said, keeping my voice calm. "It won't last long, I'm sure."

"What tha' fuck' 'm I gonna' do if I can't see?" He sat up and turned his head from side to side.

"It's ok. I brought you some Benedryl to help with the swelling and the itching. First, though, we gotta' rinse your eyes out with clean water, ok? Make sure it's all out of there?" I continued to keep my voice calm to try to get him to relax. I could see by his expression that he was about to lose it. "Daryl. I need you to get off your bed and sit on the ground. I don't want to get your covers wet, ok."

"What 're ya' doin'?"

"You're going to take your shirt off, wrap that towel around your neck, and lean back and let me rinse out your eyes. If we don't make sure they're cleaned out, the swelling and itching will get worse. Ok? I promise I'll go easy."

"Fuck! I hate this shit." he hissed as he felt around with his hands and moved towards the edge of the mattress and on to the ground cloth. He pulled the towel around his shoulders tighter. "I gotta take off my shirt?"

"Not unless you like wet clothes."

"Fuck." Daryl slowly unbuttoned the buttons of the clean shirt and pulled it off unceremoniously, tossing it aside. "Happy now?" he sneered.

"Deliriously. Now shut up and lean your head back. I'm going to be in front of you, ok? I'm going to slowly rinse out your eyes and I may have to try to open them a bit to get water in them. Try not to be a baby, ok. It's just clean water."

"Ain't no fuckin' baby." he snarled. "Do it."

I stood in front of him and put both hands on his shoulders to let him know where I was. His face was crimson and he was sweating a good bit. He flinched as I pushed his still-damp hair back across his forehead. "Shhh. S' ok." I said in a low, slow voice. "Just relax." I put a hand on his forehead and on the back of his neck and slowly tipped his head way back so I could drizzle the water in. Daryl hissed at first but didn't move. I moved the back of my fingers slowly up his jaw to his cheek so he could get used to me touching his face, the stubble scratching lightly. It felt nice, the strong jaw muscles, the whiskers tickling lightly. I put my hand around his eye socket, so puffy and red it hurt to look at, and gently touched his upper lid, separating it from the lower slightly. He had no white to speak of, his eyeball was fire-engine red. "Ok, Baby, this is going to be cool, just try not to move on me. That's it." I purred. "Let that water get all that oil out. You're doing good, doin' good." I kept up the encouragement thinking if he could hear my voice it would keep him calm. At one point when I switched to a new bottle to continue rinsing, he reached his hand out and grabbed at my waist, his fingers clawing through the t-shirt I was wearing. "I'm sorry. Did that hurt?"

"Just wanted to make sure where you were." he said, exhaling.

"I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere until you're fixed up." We started on the other eye. It was in the same shape-swollen shut, irritated and inflamed, red like I've never seen. Daryl's fingers were still on my waist, his head leaned back, sitting cross-legged on the floor while I gently and slowly poured water in his eye and let it run down his cheeks and neck into the now-soaked towel.

I finished and dabbed at his face with a corner of the towel, being careful to miss his eyes. "Ok. All done with that part." I said, patting his shoulder gently. "Now for the Benedryl. There are two of those and there is also one that's an antibiotic, we're going to try to get ahead of any infection that you might start getting."

"Shit! This is bullshit!" he railed, pulling off wet towel and tossing it away angrily. "Fuckin' skunk." I could see scars on him. Small ones. Deep ones. All shapes and sizes. I tried not to look, tried not to let him know I'd noticed., not that he could see me staring.

"I know. It's a pain in the ass. But you got sprayed good and apparently you're allergic to pole cats." I tried to be calm. "I know it's gotta be scary to not be able to see. If the situation was reversed, trust me, I'd be in your lap. You get a few Benedryls' in your system and things will clear up. Until then, I ain't going nowhere."

"You don't gotta do this."

"I know. I want to. You do a lot for the rest of us. It's the least I can do." I said. I was being sincere. Daryl Dixon, whether he wanted to or not, was growing into the role of leader day by day. You could see it in his stride, in the way he held his shoulders now. From everything he did for Carol in trying to find her daughter, risking his own life, to keeping us fed, to putting aside the anger of what was done to his brother. He was at times the lone voice of reason, saying the obvious when everyone had gone of on tangents. He was the one who came striding out of the trees and remind us "Uh, forest, you dumb-asses."

"Hold out your hand, will ya?" I said, taking his hand and flipping it over to put in the three pills. He popped them into his mouth and swallowed them as I wrapped his now-empty hand around a water bottle. "Now, scoot back, swing to the right and lay down. Those antihistamines will probably make you kinda' drowsy."

"Don't wanna' sleep." he groused. Good lord, please tell me he's not going to be a baby about this. I hate it when men are sick and act like whiny little babies.

"Ok. Then just lay back and relax. Talk to me. Here. Here's your shirt."

"Don't wanna talk." he said, pulling on his shirt and buttoning up buttons quickly.

"Then don't talk. But I'm staying right here to make sure you're ok, so do what you want."

"Suit yourself." he said, putting his hands under his ass to keep from rubbing his eyes. He was quiet for a couple minutes.

"I'm so sorry, Daryl." I said quietly, putting my hand on his lower leg. He flinched again.

"Why're you sorry? You din't do this."

"I know, but I can see how uncomfortable you are. I just feel bad."

"Don't want yer' pity."

"Too fuckin' bad. I feel sorry that this happened to you. You don't gotta like it, they're my feelings." I squeezed his leg lightly. "You need to get over yourself. You are not an island. Like it or not, there are others that care about how you are doing."

"Well, they shouldn't." He tried to frown but with all the swelling, he just ended up barely moving his forehead. "Neither should you."

"Seriously. Don't tell me what to feel." I said, smacking his leg lightly. "So tell me about your brother. I wanna' hear about him."

"Merle's...Merle." he said. "Ain't like nobody else I know."

"Is that good or bad?" I asked.

"Lil' a' both." he said. Daryl was leaning back against the pillow now, his fingers pressed together over his chest. "Merle's hard ta' describe."

"Hear he's big. Tough."

"Toughest sombitch I know. Likes to fight. Likes to drink. Likes to..." his voice trailed off and he was quiet for a second. "Don't like a lot a' people, 'specially cops."

"I've heard. He raised you, didn't he?"

"Pretty much."

"How was that?"

"Ok." his voice was a bit tense. "He did his best."

"I'll bet it was hard for him, too."

"Yeah. No money. Our mom was dead. Dad 's in 'n out of jail 'r off wi' tha' girlfriend a' tha' month. Merle did what he had to do."

"Bet he was rough on you. Tried to toughen you up, didn't he?" I pictured the scars on his chest and torso.

"Like I said, he did what he had to do." Daryl crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well, however he did it, it worked. You're the most independent, self-reliant guy I've ever seen." I laughed. Daryl laid there, his face puffy and still fire-red. I could tell I'd hit a nerve. "Daryl, what would you do if Merle came back?" I asked.

"Dunno. Prol'ly get the hell outta here." he shrugged a shoulder and scratched it with his hand. "Merle's gonna' have it out for Rick 'n the others. Hell, he'll probably be pissed at me for not finding him. Don't think it's gonna' be good if he does come back."

"You tried, though. You went back the next morning, right?"

"Yeah. He'd already..." Daryl's voice fell silent.

"I know." I said. "You know, you're not to blame for that, don't you?"

Nothing.

"Daryl. You went back as soon as you could. You tried."

"Don't matter." he shook his head.

"Sure as hell does." I put a bottle of water in his hand. "Drink. Everybody knows you tried."

"Everybody but him." he said quietly, taking a sip of water and trying to stifle a yawn. "Jesus."

"Sleepy?"

"Yeah."

"Ok. Take a nap. I'll wake you up in about 4 hours when it's time to take more, ok?"

"Hmm-mmm." he said. Big man vs. two little pills? No contest. He was snoring in no time, head back, mouth open slightly. He looked so not Daryl. Almost vulnerable. I looked around the tent. Clean, neat. Nothing setting out but necessities. Quietly exiting, I quickly walked over to Lori and Carol to give them a progress report and back to my tent to pick up my weapon. No way was I going to depend on that crossbow of his if anything did happen tonight. I didn't know why it would, but with Daryl out of commission, I was more than a bit nervous about safety. I took a book with me and decided to read until the light gave out or Daryl woke up, whichever came first. The light went long before Daryl woke up.