"Where the hell have you been!" came a booming voice.
'Great. Just whu' I need, Officer Dickhead', also known as Shane Walsh.
It's no secret that Daryl and Shane don't always meet eye to eye. The two coming close to blows from time to time. That's what happens when you put two alphas in the same group; couple that with one of them being a Dixon and the other an ex-cop with a God-complex…problems are bound to ensue.
Ignoring Walsh, he heads to his side of the camp.
"Well look who decided to show 'is ugly mug back. Did ya'miss yer big brudder, Darleena?", came the raspy voice of Merle Dixon.
"Shuddup", he wasn't in the mood for Merle's shit.
"Seein' as I don' see no kill, I take it ya' jus' were fuckin' 'round in them woods". Laughing at his teasing, knowing how he was getting on Daryl's last nerves. He's the oldest and that's what he was supposed to do to his much younger sibling. "Ya' kno' if ya' wannid' to rub one off ya' din't have ta' take off to the woods. There's plenty of pussy 'round 'ere. Blondie ova' there 's off limits though, she's mine. 'M wearin' 'er down, but ya' can 'ave 'er liddol sister." He gives his brother a look of disgust.
"Aw, come on Darleena, don' be such a damn bitch 'bout it. 'm startin' ta' think yer one of them queers."
Having had enough, he goes inside his tent to escape Merle's perverse mind. Don't get him wrong, Daryl isn't gay and appreciates the female figure just as any red blooded male, but he just never had any interest in one before. Sure he's had quickies in the bed of his truck with drunken bar sluts and a hand job or two, but he always felt like shit after each experience. He was better off cumming by his own hand then taking a woman to bed. Too much hassle.
Lying on his cot, left arm under his head, he couldn't help but compare his rickety cot to the soft mattress back at Gabriela's cabin. He bites the cuticle on his right hand. Thinking about her brought up thoughts of his stay there. How…right it felt. He wasn't sneered at for his background or name. He didn't feel the need to prove himself, sure there was some awkward moments and was suspicious of her motives in the beginning. He didn't know when he left his guard down and it wasn't until he was half way to camp that he realized he did it. He scolded himself for such a foolish thing to do; these were not the times to be trusting people.
He closes his eyes to get some sleep. It didn't come. All he could see was her tantalizing hips moving side to side as she led him to the guest room and how her deep brown hair fell in waves by the fire of the small outdoor stove. Remembering how soft her skin felt as he was bandaging it, he couldn't help but wonder how it tastes.
His eyes fly open.
'Hold up. Wher' the fuk did tha' come from?'
Who was he kidding? He was attracted to her and he knew it. He liked that she had some meat on her bones; the women in camp were just too damn skinny, still worrying about their weight. They just didn't do it for him. Recalling her curves made his hands twitch, what he would give to have those round hips around his while he squeezed her lushes breasts as she rode him hard. His right hand travels down his midsection toward his rising erection.
"Baby brudder!", Merles's voice ruins his image of Gabriela's large breasts bouncing over his head. 'This better be fukin' good', his mind screamed as he adjusted himself in his pants.
"Officer Pillow Biter is askin' for ya'. Think he wants ta' ask ya' ta' go steady. Careful Darleena, boys like 'im wan' only one thing…", Merle's deep chuckles could be heard all through camp, receiving annoyed or disinterested looks. People learned quickly that he loved to cause trouble and the more attention you give him, the worse he would get.
Stepping out of his tent, he eyes the ex-cop, not really wanting to hear him bitch about one thing or another.
He sees Merle quite amused as he's smirking at Shane, who's standing a few feet away, clenching his jaw all the while trying to stare Merle down. Trying was the key word. He turned his gaze to the younger Dixon, clearly trying to compose himself and assert his authority over the man.
'Ain't gonna' happen asshole'. Merle knows how much of a power trip Walsh was on; he knew men like him. Neither him nor his brother will bend to his will as the other fuckers did, they were not weak minded as they appeared to be.
"Where have you been Dixon? Sent ya' out two days ago and you come back empty handed. These people have to eat and you decide to take a damn nap." His stance straightens, the muscles in his arms and jaw twitch in agitation and anger. He did not appreciate being ignored when he called the hunter out the first time, and in front of everyone.
"Not my problem," Daryl drawled out, spitting by Shane's feet as if to prove his point. He was already set to head back out for another hunt, but he wasn't going to tell the other man.
'Ain't no one's bitch'.
Angered by the hunter's nonchalant attitude and outright disrespect of him; Shane Walsh was not a man to be trifled with. White trash, red necks had no place among his people, and they definitely had to be put in their place.
He steps further into the Dixon's camp, further away from the other camp and prying eyes, and into Daryl's personal space.
Merle stayed seated, a look of neutrality settled on his face. Daryl wasn't fooled; he knew his brother. He was putting on a charade to exude indifference, but the moment Shane crossed a line, they could be left with a dead cop and a shit load of crap from the others.
"Let me tell you something, boy. This camp, these people…we don't need you." Sweeping an exaggerated glance at Merle, "or your junkie brother". This got the man's attention. Daryl would give his last pack of cigarettes to knock that smirk off of the taller man's face; he clenches his fists to keep from doing just that. They could not afford to be kicked out just yet, he had things to do.
"We ALLOW you to set up you camp near us 'cuz that's just how good of people we are." He hopes the other man would accept his snide words, and not see through his bluff. "Now, your only job is to get your inbred ass out there and bring back meat. If you can't handle that, then maybe you two should think about other alternatives."
Neither man budged. This was more than a pissing match; this was a battle of wills. Who is the true alpha in this group?
"Shane?" The recently widowed Mrs. Grimes steadily makes her way towards the men.
Grinning at the self-appointed leader, "Hurry up dirt-bag, the MISSUS is hollerin' ." Never was Daryl so glad to hear the normally screeching woman make her way towards his side of the campsite.
"Shane, Glenn's been looking for you. We need to decide on what is needed for the next run into town," she grips hard on his bicep, nervously taking in the men's expressions.
Not leaving the shorter man's stare, Shane nods and reluctantly follows the slim woman.
The brothers are left alone again to their own devices, thoughts of what had just transpired locked into memory for another day.
"Looks like the pig 's stickin' it ta' tha' skinny bitch. Din't even wait til' 'er husband's body turned cold 'n the ground", Merle sneered.
Shrugging at his brother's comment, "Not like it matters 'nymore", and it didn't. He's met with a grunt from his brother in confirmation. The rusty lawn chair under the heavier man, groaned as he adjusted himself straighter.
"So whu' did ya' really do out there tha' got ya' so riled up an' wit' nuthin' ta' show fer?"
Uncomfortable with his brother's sudden interest, he knew Merle would be relentless in finding out if he didn't give him a quick answer.
"Got distracted", hoping Merle would leave it at that was wishful thinking on his part.
"Now, now baby brudder. I know ya' betta' den tha'. Now tell ol' Merle whu' was so "distractin" tha' ya' forget to bring even a lousy squirrel." Hesitant to tell the other man about last night's hosts, he relents, is actions had Merle's interest piqued.
"Was huntin' an' accidently shit some girl, thought she was a geek. Followed 'er back to 'er cabin an' she let me stay the night," he purposely left out the part of giving her his kill.
"Whoo – wee, tha's whu' 'm fukin' talkin' 'bout! Liddol brudder finally got 'is dick wet. 'Bout time too, were 'avin me worried there." Already used to Merle's view on women and how they should be treated, so it came to a surprise that he was quickly losing his temper the more he spoke of Gabriela as if she was some hole to warm his dick.
"…and I bet she begged ya' ta' give her pussy the Dixon poundin', huh?" His grin turned lecherous, "Damn boy, should let me 'ave a go at 'er next time. Sho' 'er how a real man feels so she don't 'ave ta' settle fer yer sorry ass." Noticing a change in his brother's visage did not deviate him from ranting on how he would "tear 'er up".
"Shu' the fuck up Merle!"
"Aw, does precious Darleena 'ave a liddol crush on the wood's whore?" His demeanor turned serious, "Listen up boy, 'cuz ain't gonna' say dis 'gain. No woman 's worth turnin' 'gainst yer own kin. No pussy is tight 'nuff ta' getting' yer head confused on whu's important…surviving." On the right drugs, Merle could be a much laid back man, but when it came to Daryl, it didn't matter what he was on, he tended to be a hard ass. Ever since he could remember, Merle was always telling him what to do and teaching him how to take care of himself as best of his abilities. Only Merle had ever given a damn about him; it's what family did. They were all they had, always had and always will be them against the world.
'Dixons stick together…Women are meant ta' stay 'n the kitchen, on their backs, an' on their knees…Trust no one but yerself…No one will ever give a damn 'bout ya' but me.' Merle's words of wisdom imbedded in his mind, he didn't know any different.
Grunting he hauled up his re-supplied pack and re-entered the woods, ending their conversation. Even deep in the trees and bush, he was unable to get away from Merle's words and what they meant to him.
The sun was setting, signaling another day passing since the world as they knew it ended. It also meant another day they had of life. The stitches in her shoulder burned. It was sure to leave a scar, not like it mattered anyway.
'Guess I'm gonna' have to cancel my Playboy photo-shoot'.
She never got to shop at the 'petite' section in the clothing stores at the mall. Her short stature did nothing for her meaty frame. She didn't consider 145 as being terribly over weight, but she would have liked to fit into a size 4 at one point in her life. Her large breasts, although envied by many of her friends, brought nothing but trouble to her. They would be ogled by perverts and brought unwanted attention, and were a total bitch on her back. What she would give for a decent back and neck rub? Cute lingerie was also out of the question; it was extremely difficult finding a bra and panty set that covered her tits AND ass. So when the world went to shit, she made sure to take all of her lingerie she owned because scavenging for more would be hell.
Her self-pity was interrupted by the small voice of Diane, "Gabby, I'm hungry." Her small hand curled around the bottom of her green plaid button up shirt.
"Almost ready girlie girl", she reassured as she stirred the pot of food.
Sean walked up next to her and peered in the cooking pot, scrunching his nose at its contents.
"Beans again! I hate beans. Can't we have pancakes instead?"
Gabriela laughed at the boy's objections. 'Oh to be young…'
"Well Seanie, its all we got so you're gonna' have to suck it up and be thankful we got food to eat at all." She cast a glance at their depleting food supply as she heard the 7 year old grumble to himself no doubt walking to their bedroom to sulk.
While the kids ate, Gabby's mind drifted to the rough redneck, not like the burn in her shoulder wasn't a constant reminder of him, but it was a different this time. Worrying over a complete stranger in the old days was not uncommon for her, well according to her friends. She was just too soft hearted and in times such as the ones they live in, it is not just plain ludicrous but can possibly be fatal. She longed for the old days.
'Since when did a month ago become the old day?'
She felt much older than her actual 24 years. Constantly looking over your shoulder and living on the edge would age anyone.
'Still…wonder if he made it back okay. If he got caught with a herd of those things…what a shame it would be, such a gorgeous…', wait, what?
"I did not just think that" she denied softly to herself.
"Said what?" asked the curious four-year old.
"Nothing, baby girl. I'm just being silly," she giggles at the older reply. She hated to admit her attraction to the rude, dirty Neanderthal of a man, that she hardly knew… yet those sleek blue eyes ignited something inside her, a deep burn that curled her toes and made her light headed; unadulterated lust.
'Thank God for that sleeveless shirt'.
Bringing back about a dozen squirrels and a couple of rabbits, he tossed them in front of Deputy Douchebag's feet; didn't even bother to skin them
'Let dem idiots figure it out. Serves dem right'. The mortified look the group made as they saw the dead animals and Shane's peeved scowl was worth the slight sunburn he earned from the unforgiving Georgian sun.
Merle entered their camping area, where Daryl sat and skinned their share of squirrels.
"Whu' did ya' do ta' Walsh? Even is skinny bitch was getting' 'is stank."
"Nuthin', he din't deserve', was his response.
Not expecting any more from the younger man, he goes into his tent. His earlier twitching was an indicator for his need to get into a good high. Drugs were his was to escape reality, his way of dealing with the shit life aimed at them. Disgusted over his brother's habit, it was going to get them both killed one day, he goes back to preparing his dinner. Daryl had given up trying to get Merle off the drugs. All he could do was bail him out of trouble he was always bound of getting into.
The other camp's laughter carried to his camp, their jovial voices rose as they spoke with one another as they enjoyed each other's company. Daryl couldn't help but compare his camp and theirs. He was used to being alone; Merle would disappear for weeks, months on end in his younger days, being in juvie or just to be away from their father. He would entertain himself by camping in the woods or imagine he led a different life. When he got older, Merle joined the military, became a Marine, but was court marshaled after a stint involving knocking the teeth out of a superior. Being on his own came to no surprise, although he couldn't help but wonder if things would be different if he wasn't, if he was more like them. Would he be sharing a beer with the men, while the women went around serving dinner that he hunted and thanked him for his work without any fear in their eyes? Would he be respected and thought of one of them? He scoffs.
Then his thoughts went to Gabriella and the small children under her care. Would they have sat around him and spoke of their day or would they have shunned him and ignore him all together as everyone else did? Shaking his head as if it would erase those thoughts from him head, like a damn Etch-A- Sketch.
Picking up one of the sticks he gathered earlier, he begins to whittle it into a descent point. Can never have enough bolts.
Ever slowly, the image of Gabriela sitting across from him as she stirred a pot of rabbit stew started to form. The boy would be sitting at his side, staring up at him in awe as he told him of is hunting trips as the small girl curled in his arms slept after a long day of running around with the other children. Gabriela would look up from her spot across the fire and scold him for using inappropriate language in front of the children.
That's how Merle found him, when he stumbled out of his tent.
"Whu' the fuk gots ya' smilin' like a goddamn fool?" questioned the extremely high Dixon. Daryl didn't realize he had a small smile on his face until a frown settled in its place.
"Daydreamin' like some hippie is jus' gonna' git ya' killed," he berated as he sat in his well-used lawn chair, "ya' need ta' git yer head out yer ass an' start preparin' fer takin' over those uppity faggots camp."
Not liking where this was going, Daryl clears his throat in attempt to ignore the quenching in his gut. He knew they were planning to deceive the people at the quarry. He might not like most, if not all, the campers, didn't mean he wanted to rob them of everything. It was just signing their death warrants.
Having lost his appetite, Daryl stares into the fire. The other camps joyous voices although quieted as night approached, still rang loudly in his head. Merle's voice accompanied them. 'Blood is thicker than water, liddol brother'.
'Yeah, but whose blood?'
"That vase, that's something special. 'Fess up. You steal that from your Grandma Jean's house? I hope you left her that spoon collection", the man lying in the hospital bed chuckles a bit to his friend and is confused when he receives silence. His friend is nowhere to be seen. He searches for anything familiar.
Nothing.
He turns to his right and sees the vase of flowers sitting on the small table; the same "get well" flowers Shane brought in were withered.
'How can that be?' He could not just lay there when he needed answers. Attempting to pull himself out of bed, he collapses to the ground. He tries to get himself back up on shaky knees, muscle loss evident. How long has he been there? He is calling out weakly for the nurse, but no one comes. Using the wall for support, feeling not unlike a newborn fawn, he is disgusted with himself.
Rick Grimes was a man that hated being helpless. Deeply missing the comforting weight of his police issued gun and hoister. The hospital is uncharacteristically dark, no nurses, doctors, or even other patients to be seen.
The lingering smell that seems to fester in the walls did nothing to help quell the nausea in the pit of his stomach. Suddenly he lurches forward, emptying acidic bile as it makes its way up, burning his throat. Not bothering to clean up, he continues to make his way to through the disarrayed hospital I search of somebody, anybody.