Hell Bound
Summary: Collection of dark themed one shots. 'Don't want to let you down but I'm Hell bound. I can't escape it now unless you show me how'
Warnings: Darker themes, be warned.
"Daryl?"
The voice echoed round the narrow, empty hallways, finding Daryl where he took refuge away from the rest of the group.
He was in the shower room, having come down a while ago. He was supposed to get himself cleaned up, wipe away the last few days of dirt and grime from his body, but once he reached the peace and quiet in the depths of the prison, he found himself in no hurry to leave it.
Of course, he recognised the voice immediately and waited for Rick to show his face. The other man peaked through the door way, not sure what state of dress he'd find the man in and not wanting to impose. Seeing Daryl still fully dressed, Rick stepped fully into the room.
"You okay?" Rick asked, a twinge of concern creeping in his voice.
Having spent some time trying to convince Rick and Hershel he was just fine, the last thing he needed was to undo all of that work.
Daryl nodded briefly. "Kinda wanted some time away from those Woodbury people. Prying eyes and all."
Rick smiled, and nodded in understanding. "Well, we're going out into the fields. Secure some of the fences, lay some traps just outside the prison. So, when you get back, most of us we probably be out there. Just in case you're wondering where we are when you get back."
He knew what Rick meant was 'just in case you worry we've gone after The Governor'. So Daryl nodded and he expected Rick to leave with that. There was nothing else he could say really, but Rick hesitated.
"So... you want to help us out after you've finished?" Rick asked, pointing to the showers unneccesarily.
Daryl pulled a face and shook his head. "Think I'll hit the sack. I'm beat."
Rick smiled. It was tight and not quite right. He doesn't believe you, Daryl told himself and there must have been at least a flicker of the doubt on Daryl's face as Rick dropped his gaze and nodded. "I get it. You deserve a break."
And with that, Rick ducked back out of sight.
Not until Daryl heard the distant sound of the metal door closing further down the hall did Daryl move again, following Rick's movements to the door. He looked to make sure there was no sign of the man anywhere before he went back to the shower room and pulled his vest off.
The sleeveless shirt underneath had dark stains on them and he knew that the others hadn't seen them. If they had, things would be different.
Daryl undid the buttons on the front of his shirt and carefully pulled the material away from his body. It was stuck in place, the blood having dried, fusing skin to fabric with his own bodily fluids.
He was gentle as he could be, but after peeling away the front, there was no easy way to remove the back of the shirt and he had to just pull it away.
His eyes stung but he ignored the pain as best he could. He dropped the shirt down to the ground next to his vest. His hand lingered at his belt, the scars on his body standing out and he looked at what had been done to him.