AN: So let me know what you're thinking... essentially you will figure out what I've done with the time line as you read. If you're uncertain what's going on think back to episode 11 (season 4) - there was someone with the group not so much enjoying their time in the basement when Rick woke up to the sounds of the scuffle.
Hope you like it ;)
Daryl POV...
Bastards got me nooked . Can't run from 'em, Can't be one of 'em. Beth had given me some kinda hope I'd lost along the way. She was like Hershel, like her old man in the ways she could talk you into believing in something greater, some higher purpose. And for what? To lose her in a moment of recklessness. I'd gone an' opened that damn door because I wanted to catch her some scruffy dog, because o' the way 'er eyes twinkled when she said "but you said there was a dog Daryl!".
Hauntin', that's what she's doin' now. Hauntin' my head with thoughts of what if. Well there ain't no good in 'what if's'. There aint no good in dreamin'. The fool in me just wanted to make that girl happy, after she'd lost so much, and yet there I was, getting her nabbed in a world full of sick fuckers.
I didn't speak to Joe, or his men. Just walked. Went along for the ride, until I'd find my way out. Until I could make my way back to the road.
"Town's up ahead – got some homes to raid boys, lock and load em'," Joe drawled, with a sly smile as he stretched his arms out triumphantly, a darkened sense of bliss rising off of him. "Get us some grub, and anything else there might be."
I needed to think, to figure out my surroundins'. See if I could catch them on the down low, or... worse came to worst I knew I'd have to play along, be a soldier in their game until I saw my moment to slip out, and return to cling to... to what? To hope? – hope was fading, fast, hope left in that car. But I guess you might consider me some kind of loyal friend, maybe even some mutt like the one I tried to catch for 'er. Hell the girl already had one loyal mutt, why'd she need another so bad?
I ground my teeth, squaring my jaw before spittin on the railroad. Roads lead to nowhere no more, tracks're just about the same no doubt.
I was shoved forward, the one with the bow coming up behind me as he smirked. "Keep movin' wings," he taunted "quit lookin' so downcast, aint nothin' in the world to be sad over. Don't you get it man, we can get whatever we want, do whatever we want, and live however we want."
"That so?"
"Sure thing, just ask the boss," he thrust his chin toward Joe. "He done good for us men. We're our own men cause'a him. He got us livin' the good life, you know what I mean?"
I did. "Not so sure yours and mine are the same thing boy."
"You'll see. Just wait till ya get some fresh meat to dive into, or that rush of a kill. You wait and you'll see what I mean about how this world – right here – this world is a mans world, the kind we can thrive in."
"Uh-huh," I nodded, not wanting to cause any ruckus yet, he wasn't worth the fight yet. I knew what he meant by diving into fresh meat. I'd heard the term before. But I'd never get away alive if I blew it now. I drew a gritty breath. "Alright, Mr. Freedom, wanna practice what you preach and gimmy a damn cigarette – if you got one on you?" It was more a demand than a question. It ain't my first rodeo; just a damn badly timed one.
He walked ahead, but not before tossing a pack at my chest. It thwacked against the leather vest, but I caught it before it hit ground.
"His names Jimmy," said another, he had a black bandana across his forehead. "He's a prick. But hell," he laughed, "which of us aint?"
"Everyone in this damn world is one now, gotta be on your own to survive."
"That right," he asked. I just gave him a sideways look, no need to answer somethin' by reiterating what I'd already told 'im. "Well, Daryl, you didn't look like a man who was happy alone back before those tracks. You looked like a man who'd lost something, something important." He sneered out the last; "Care to share?"
It burned my insides as I said it, like the moonshine as it sank into my stomach. "Aint nothin' to lose, aint nothin' to care about out here – not anything past my own damn self."
He nodded and backed off a bit, Jimmy may have passed me, but I was still being flanked by remaining group. As we drew closer to a white house I felt a sinking sensation at the prospect of being inside with these men, outside walkers could break their formations, could give me an out... inside it was only about fearing the living. Not about killing the dead.
"There's still good people Daryl," she sounded awful disappointed, and yet chastising in her tone. "I dun' think the good ones survive."
Her words were fresh in my mind, like razors reminding me how I'd told her that the good ones die... that she would die if she thought they didn't, and if she didn't play more rough.
The house we approached sat against a backdrop of dry and littered grass; fallen leaves, bit of plastic, cloths, and tin cans were strewn throughout the wild flowers and weeds which poked through the tall grass. The white framing and wooden porch were dusted with dirt – and in some places spatters of what undoubtedly was blood – illuminating the imperfections of the wooden panelling and porch; emphasizing the grooves and knots.
This house, this picture of what was, the American dream, sat here, standin' tall amongst the wreckage of a world forgotten. It seems some kind'a ironic symbol, some looming reminder that we still stand against the darkness of imperfection.
As we wound up the concrete path, I glanced down on the broken walk-way; someone else had been here, there were footprints, larger and smaller sets in dirt. Heeled boots, cowboy boots?, and something more flat... the smaller set was too scuffled up to make out entirely. Maybe, these three would still be inside, maybe it'd give me a chance to get out while Joe's crew dealt with them.
They leapt the front steps, stumbling and banging on the wooden frame of the porch. I took the steps one at a time, and could feel the vibrations of their loud and abrasive movements. I guess they don' care much for bein' stealthy. Cocky bastards would get us killed if there were any big number o' walkers round here, like back at the funeral home. Two of them snickered, shoving one another briefly like school-boys fighting to look in a boarded up window. The boards would'a broken any good line o' sight at the darkness beyond.
It's white framing, big porch and windows reminded me o' the house last-night – but that sanctuary was lost, with the hope that it had housed. Lost was the music, and the smiles and the her sweet voice, annoying or not it'd always be better than silence or negativity.
And here I am like the loyal mutt she must think me to be, and I'd follow through, I'd find her, I'd hold onto how she taught me to hope when hope seemed non-existent. Because this time, there was no way 'round it, I'd been responsible for her life and her safety and I'd fucked up. But I wouldn't let go, not yet.
Bandana, I didn't bother to learn none o' their names, not if I could help it, spoke up, his voice drawing my attention back to the present; "Won't budge Joe," his voice held uncertainty, and he looked like a guilty animal, waiting to be scolded for disobeying its master. A sort of boyish quality about him in the moment.
"Gotta be another way in stupid, get round, find it, and let us in. Unless you need someone tellin' you every set in life I'd get to it."
He nodded quickly and leapt down, over the right side of the porch, jumping the rail and disappeared behind the house. I scowled, squinting my eyes at Joe. "Ain't you gunna get someone to back 'im up," I asked "Or you just in the habit of seein' your men to be expendable?"
He smirked jaggedly at me, rubbing a hand through his hair "You offering?"
"Naw," I shook my head once, and rubbed some sweat off my chin with the back of my free hand, the other still clutching my crossbow. "I doubt you'd let me back any o' yours up. I might drop them."
His steely eyes sparkled at me, a strong grin spreading across his taunt face, his skin shaping sharp lines as he chuckled darkly, "You're right. I don't got no reason to trust you. But you know what Daryl? I know you, I know everything about you. Just like I know all about the rest of them. Like a wounded dog, wild and rearin' to bite," he paused inching forward slightly, away from the pillar he'd been leaning on. "I'll break you, I'll train you to listen, and listen you will. Because the need to survive, that'll be all that matters soon, and me, my boys, my dogs, we always survive."
The others had turned expectantly to us, no longer peering into the dark house, their energies were excited, like they were all about to pounce given the right word. I shifted, glancing around at them briefly before I looked him square in the eye; "you can try. Ain't got nothing left to lose. Nothing left to break."
"There's always somethin'. And I'll find it, I'll sniff it out," he advanced like a predator going in for the kill, until he was just but an inch or two from me. Then he leaned forward, nearer to my shoulder, and sniffed – inhaling dramatically. "That pain, it'll be the whip, I'll drive you with it till you crack, till you can't take no more. Don't test a man of my position. Or we'll be findin' out exactly what matters most and takin' it with pleasure."
I slung my bow over my shoulder, breathing out as slow as I could manage, it came out all scratchy. My irritation increasingly evident. But as I'd moved it over my shoulder, my arms had hit his chest, inadvertently shoving him back, out of my space. "What'a you know," I muttered.
"That you looked like you lost somethin' mighty important, and recently. That I saw a car speed down the road past us."
I flinched, it was only a twitch, I tried to stop my reaction, but my emotions got the better of me and I felt a wave of hope wash over me, Joe knew which way they'd taken her... but that also meant he know something I wanted had been taken.
"You cooperate and we'll talk about helpin' to get you back what you lost friend, just help us clear this house first, right?"
And the hope that had ignited was just as soon extinguished. I couldn't go on askin' him, or his men where the car'd gone... I couldn't risk these men findin' out about her. They were no good, and that would wind her up in just as bad a spot as she was now. "Alright," I murmured. "Let's clear it then."
The door pulled open, breaking the tension as the mean jumped to rampage into the house. "Someone's been in 'ere," said Bandana. "Food stuff in the kitchen, and someone's slept on this couch here – had it all shoved up on the door."
"Yeah," I added clipping in "saw the footprints of three... leavin though, didn't look like they'd come back recently."
"So, you're a tracker?"
"Hunter," Joe let me pass, I didn't like him behind me, I liked to keep my eyes on him, make sure he wasn't up to nothin' fishy. But I didn't wanna push my luck neither, and I'd come close to on the porch. So I passed him, entering the house.
"Boys," he said slyly as I entered the house "let's get to know Daryl."
There was resounding laughter before I got knocked on my back as a rifle thwacked me hard in the face. I stumbled, and hit the couch. They pulled me forwards and continued to beat on me just the same. Outnumbered, out gunned, I was fucked. I knew the house would've been a bad idea. Shit. As they backed up a bit I pulled myself up, wobbling slightly. I stood my ground as they circled me. I looked at Joe, and spat the blood that was pooling in my mouth across his shoes.
They laughed and decked me another, I was more prepared this time, and I elbowed Jimmy hard as his fist impacted into my ribs. He bit back a yelp and skirted back to their circle. Laughter echoed through the house. Fuck me.
"Where you from?" Joe asked, adjusting himself to lean across the couch, lookin' mighty pleased with himself.
"Ain't none o' your business," I slurred, I reached for my bow but three jumped forwards, two grabbing it off my shoulders, the other landing another cracking blow into my abdomen. I wheezed slightly as they pulled back, and stumbled to my knees.
"I'm gunna ask you once more, I think you're a smart man, and you've figured out what'll happen if you don't answer us; where you from?"
"Before all this or from when y'all found me out there?"
"Let's start with how you made it this far... work our way to how you ended up where you were."
"I was with a group, out'side o' Atlanta. Our camp got over-run, we migrated south, hit up the CDC for a while, that did't end so well neither. Ended up on this farm. Few o' our people got hurt and lost. We needed to get 'em. Some good, some bad there... also got over-run. The herds were gettin' bigger.
We ended up at a prison, took it over, made it our home. – "
"A prison?" Bandana jumped in, showing genuine interest. "Why're you out here, that woulda been secure, you crazy?"
"Shut up and let me finish and I guess you'd find out wouldn't you?" He advanced forward but Joe shook his head, holding up a hand before he nodded at me to continue. "Like I said, the herds were bad, they would get at the prison fences and sorta climb one another, couldn't get over, but the weight took down fences... then there was this guy, this leader of another group. He'd become enemy number one, the walkers were nothin' in comparison. He got some grudge against us, had his panties all in a knot... he took us out earlier this week. Most of ours got killed. The others split up, if they survived..."
I paused... I wasn't sure if I could lie my way outa the rest, but I'd try. "I ran for it, everyone else had grabbed what few cars we had, I was the last one left... so I took off, been runnin' ever since."
"And you just passed out on a road?"
"I guess losing everyone had to hit me eventually. They were my friends, I was responsible for them."
"What about the car?"
I glanced up at him, frowning. "What?"
"You stupid? What about the car, the one you were to interested in."
"Oh, right, that. I wanted to hitch with them. Other survivors. You know?"
His eyes turned to slits and he leaned forwards "yet us you were so reluctant to join. What was so important about the car?"
"Nothin' I said so already."
He glanced at his men. They drew closer. Ready to throw another hit. "The car...?"
I grit my teeth and bit my lips tightly together. No.
He nodded. One o' them kicked me hard in the back, felt a rib split as I collapsed to my side against the dusty floor, spitting more blood as the five of them pounded their heels into me, or the toes of their boots sharpened the splitting pain. Eventually they backed off, my vision was blurred with blood, and I felt my face puffing up, I wouldn't be able to see out of one eye at least. Not for a while anyway. They kept this up I'd be dead... if not from the initial blows from the internal injuries.
"The car?"
"They took her," I spat. "They grabbed her and I'd promised to protect her, keep her safe."
There were some sick jokes passed around his men, snickering and scuffing of feet as they made crude gestures. Joe didn't mind. "Her, you had a little lady."
I scowled at myself... but I'd be no good to Beth dead. I'd had to choose what was more important; giving up her information, or giving up on her... Couldn't choose the later.
"Well then, aren't you just a knight in shining armour Daryl. We'll help you find the little lady and we'll make sure she's real well taken care of. Jimmy, head on upstairs and check the rooms. Make sure we don't have any fleshy friends. The rest of you... relax a while. This one'll likely need some recovery time before he'll be able to help us find a few days of entertainment. Ain't that right?"
I wanted to beat the livin' shit outa him, bash his scull in. The rest of them too. But I'd have to wait... my time would come. I'd be sure of that. He leaned down to me, kneeling in front of me and ripped off one of my sleeves with the help of his knife. He padded the blood out of my eyes so I'd be able to see him better before saying; "told you I'd sniff you out. And now I know exactly how to break you."
He grabbed the cord that'd held the door shut and bound my wrists. His knot was sound, and given my level of energy, I'd be unable to work my way out'a it for a while. Bandanna went up the stairs, I could hear a scuffle before things settled down. Joe wondered away, snatching a tennis ball from the base of the stairs. Thump, thump, thump, the sound of it hitting the floor and rising into his hand again bounced around in my heard.
The downstairs group got roudy too, sayin' something about some shirt, a woman's. They claimed their turns with her... I'd known their type... but my blood ran cold when I glimpsed them toss the wet shirt around. Michonne.
The footprints I'd noticed;... Michonne must've been with Rick and Carl. They'd been in this house... one of them still was. There'd only been two sets leaving in the most recent track – though I'd told Joe no one was left... it'd been in hopes that they weren't gone at all, that they could help. And the small and flatter boots were heading away from the house when I'd seen 'em, leaving the heeled boots... Rick.
And there it was again, hope, coupled with deeply rooted worry. I had to find a way out, and make certain that no more of my friends were endangered. They couldn't find Michonne, worse yet... what would they do to Carl?
Reviews are much appreciated/thoughts too. Again wanna know how you feel about Daryl's characterization. So tell me. :) Thanks.
