Disclaimer: Not mine :( I'm just playing with the characters.
AN: I couldn't pass up the opportunity for some Daryl whump. I wrote this just after the Season 4 finale and just now cleaned it up. Interestingly, I'm no more sure of what happens next than I did back then! I hope you enjoy this little moment in time. Surplus
TRAIN CAR A
Daryl turned his face away, pressing it into the crack. Cool, clean air blew steadily on his sore skin. He could feel a hint of the sunshine playing on the breeze. It was still early. Everyone except Rick was still asleep.
They hadn't been locked up inside this boxcar all that long. A day and a night. Twice now, the door had opened revealing four pointed machine guns and a tray bearing bowls of thin milk. Powdered milk, mixed with four times the water needed to make it the right consistency. At least it was wet.
They were keeping them alive.
As if stuck on replay, Daryl ran it through his head again and again. When they walked in there, he knew it was trap. The whole thing played out like a giant snare. He was pretty sure that Rick knew it, too. Still, Daryl backed Rick's play. Trusted in him. Lately, his own instincts were shit. He couldn't trust himself.
Why did they want them alive? If it was for their gear, that was easy enough to take from their dead bodies. Did they want the women? If so, why were the women locked up in here? It didn't make no sense.
Daryl closed his eyes to ease the pounding in his head. He needed to rest, to save his strength for whatever plan Rick came up with. Needed to be strong to lend his arms for the jarhead's plan, if Rick didn't.
So many new people.
They were his friends now. Said so himself. But they were strangers. It was too much. Too much today.
So many of his people gone. Beth was gone. She left him behind. Daryl hoped it was because the driver thought they were rescuing her from him. To keep her safe. He wanted her to be safe.
And Carol, long gone. Maybe she was safe, too. The thought of her made his chest ache.
Why did they want them alive?
"Are you okay?"
A timid, female voice startled Daryl from his his thoughts. He tried to turn and face her, but his body wouldn't work right. His head was suddenly too heavy for his neck. It took more work to move than it should. The world was a slur of semi darkness filled with soft snores.
"I'm fine," he managed, bringing his back up against the side wall. His mouth was dry as the dirt in the road. Dry as the leaves.
"You don't look fine. I'm Tara, by the way."
Focusing on the voice, Daryl found a pale young face come into focus through the gloom. Big brown eyes full of fear. So young. So afraid. "I'm not going to hurt you," he whispered. "Don't be afraid."
"Are you hurt? You look hurt." Tara asked, the fear still in her eyes. "My sister is a nurse...well, was a nurse. Taught me a few things," she faltered off.
"I'm fine. Need some sleep, is all," Daryl replied, wishing it wasn't a lie. He knew he was beat up. He had to be fine. Didn't have a choice.
"Can I take a look? I want to help," Tara asked, eyes wide. Still afraid. Familiar.
"Do I know you?" Daryl asked. He searched her face. Couldn't remember where he had seen her. Just knew he had.
"I was at the prison," Tara whispered back, voice trembling. "On the other side."
Now he remembered. She had fearful eyes then, too. That was all past now. Gone.
Daryl shook his head. "Don't matter. Asshole fooled my brother, too. S'ok." He licked his lips. "I'm Daryl."
Tara smiled shyly. quickly. The fear was less now, but still there. Daryl watched her uncurl a little. "I know. Glen told me about you," she said. "I came in with him. He's a good man."
"The best," Daryl trailed off. His eyes wanted to slid shut. He needed rest. He needed to keep watch. Why were they keeping them alive?
"That's what he said about you," Tara whispered. "Close your eyes and let me take a look. I'm not as good was my sister was, but…"
The words trailed off as Daryl let his eyes slid shut. He felt hands of his face. He heard voices around him. Felt pain along his ribs. Darkness.
A scream woke him up. It was a terrible scream, full of anguish and pain. A mortal scream.
Daryl blinked hard into the gloom, heart pounding. Dawn had come and was spilling new light through the cracks in the walls. Daryl fleetingly wondered if he could widen any of the cracks to get someone out. His fingers itched to try.
"What was that?" a voice whispered at his side. It was the girl from last night, Tara. She was lying next to him. Not touching, but close.
"Don't know, but the same thing happened yesterday morning.. The screamin' was worse then," a different female voice whispered from the other side of the boxcar. Maggie's voice he realized.
"Do you think they are going to kill us?"
"Yes."
The boxcar grew quiet again until Daryl heard Rick's firm voice just on the other side of him. "No. They are not going to kill us."
Daryl peered up toward Rick's voice and could just make out the outline of Rick's form sitting propped against the wall keeping watch. He moved to try and sit up when Rick put a heavy hand on Daryl's shoulder stilling his movements.
"Rest. I got this," Rick said quietly, firmly.
"Slept enough. Gotta figure things out," Daryl replied trying to shrug off Rick's hand. He felt weak and useless. His head felt full of moss and his ribs were broken glass. Pain shot through him.
"We will. Just sleep...just a little bit more," Rick said calmly. "I'm going to need you later. Rest up."
Daryl grunted and gave up. Truth was, he could no more knock Rick's hand off than he could reach the moon. Sleep found him seconds later.
When Daryl woke again, it was obviously full daylight outside. He was lying on his side with his back to the wall. Everything hurt, but it was better than the day before. The rest had done him good.
The group was gathered in a circle at the other end, talking quietly. Daryl wondered if they were being quiet on his behalf, or if there were guards outside the car. He needed to go help with the plan.
Don't put the cart before the horse. You've got to get up first, Carol's voice said in his head.
Snorting his agreement to imaginary Carol, Daryl forced himself up on one elbow and started working himself to his knees.
"Easy there. Tara said you had some broken ribs and a concussion."
Somehow, Maggie had appeared right in front of his eyes. In his struggle to get upright, Daryl didn't notice her leaving the group and coming to his aid. She soundlessly handed him a water bottle and watched him take a long drink, wincing. "She think's that your cheek bone is fractured, too."
Daryl nodded his agreement at all the descriptions. He didn't think it was important to add that his back felt wrenched and one knee was signing the national anthem. Instead, he gestured at Maggie with the water bottle. "You ok?" he asked.
Sighing, Maggie nodded. "I'm not hurt."
"Glen?"
"He's okay too. Weak, but getting better," Maggie finished quietly. "Sasha's fine too.:
"Good." And it was. Daryl let that news sink into his bones filling in some of the hurt spots. He could take a lot if his family was ok. It's called hope, Beth's voice chimed his head. See, there is good in the world. Daryl nodded to himself absently.
"What happened to Beth? Rick said that she got out with you."
Daryl shot a look over at Maggie's strained and tear-filled eyes. Didn't know what to say. Didn't have a clue how to say it. "Yeah," he said quietly. "Couple of days."
"Where is she now?"
"Gone."
Daryl dropped his eyes. He couldn't look at her. Didn't know what to say. He looked up at Maggie's broken face. He could see the worry and the fear. He could see Maggie wanting to ask more, but too afraid of the answers.
Across the boxcar, Daryl saw the jarhead smack Rick hard on the shoulder and point out the crack in walls. Little strips of sunlight danced across his family as they all took positions around the sliding door.
Showtime.
Daryl levered himself up off the floor with a surge of adrenaline. Mentally, he closed shop on his pains as he flexed and tested his physical abilities. The rest really had done him good.
"Is she dead?"
The question came with a flat voice, devoid of all life. Hopeless.
"No," Daryl said, clenching his fists. He let the tension flow from his fingers into the rest of his body, setting his resolve on fire. He felt Maggie close her hands around his fists and lean against him. He felt the hope return to his friend.
Light flooded the boxcar as the door started to slide open. Daryl shoved Maggie back behind him and then dragged Tara back from her place behind Glen. Across the way, he saw Bob do the same with Sasha.
It was good. They'd get through this, his family.
Daryl tossed Maggie one last look and gave her a promise.
"Beth ain't dead and we're gonna get her back."
As Daryl turned back around and squared his shoulders against the unknown, he added a little bit just for himself.
"We're going to get them all back."
The door slid all the way open and light flooded the space.
Time to get some answers.
~fini~
AN: When I wrote this, I was trying to decide what was happening next. I knew that Daryl was beat up. He didn't know where Carol was. He talked about using the bus for the evacuation plan just before the attack, so he didn't know what happened to all those people. I just know he would want to get everyone back.
Now, just days before the premier, I still have no clue. Spoilers aside, I want to know what everyone else thinks. What is going to happen next, beyond getting out of that train car? Are we going to get a big Carol/Daryl reunion, a Beth/Daryl reunion, or will Daryl end up with a harem? Just drop me a line.
Thanks for reading!
Surplus Imagination
