I don't own the walking dead only Arron.
I'd like to thank yall for the likes and favorites. As a small token for your loves, I took the time to draw Arron out. At the moment, the only copy I have posted is on the story cover picture. I checked, you can still see it all but the quote he says. This story isn't unbeta'd, so context clues. I do try to read it over but I usually get bored of reading it after I just wrote it and I'm to impatient to wait a few days to go back and edit then post.
~Loner
Rick was beginning to regret his decision to sit up front. While Glenn was an excellent conversationalist, Rick just couldn't shake the burning glare that tore into the back of his head the whole way to the city. Every once in a while, Rick would turn around, using the illusion of including T-dog in the conversation as an excuse, and discreetly search for the glaze. His gray eyes ran over the youngest Dixon and his friend each time, but neither seemed to care what was going on around them.
The eldest, Orion or something, was leaning back, left leg stretched out in front of him, hitting his companion with his foot every time they hit a pot hole, while his right leg was bent at the knee and pulled close enough for the man to rest his elbow on the knee. Daryl, on the other hand was leaning subtly into the man next to him, easily ignoring the arm thrown lazily over his shoulders as he worked to keep himself busy shifting though what's-his-name's supplies bag.
Watching them, seeing the familiar air about the two of them, reminded Rick of the close relationship Shane and he had once shared when they were just partners on the force. Only, Daryl and… that one guy- he really needed to get the man's name- shared a slightly different air; like his and Shane's, but somehow mixed with his and Lori's relationship before Carl was born. Every time Rick thought about Daryl and … uh, scar face like Lori and himself, Rick would shake the image from his head and turn toward Glenn again. As soon as his attention was focused elsewhere, though, those eyes were back on him. Damn it. He shouldn't have agreed to let both of them come along. Rick only needed one of them anyway. Why was that Onion, or whatever, even coming again?
Glenn actually thought Rick's behavior the whole truck ride to the city was kind of funny. While the man was holding a conversation expertly well, even recalling information from the start of the ride, it was plainly obvious something was bothering the older man. Glenn observed Rick from the corner of his eye. Glenn liked Rick, don't get him wrong (Glenn liked everyone), but Rick was still new to the group. Glenn trusted Arron, who was probably the second least liked person in the group, right after Merle, more than the young Korean trusted the new guy.
T-Dog was thankful for the conversation. He never really did like quiet drives, disliked it even more nowadays. The quiet gave T-Dog time to think, and T-dog didn't want to think, especially now. Every time he had a moment to himself, Merle's face popped into him mind. T-Dog wondered if Merle knew how much fear the drug addict was showing as the man basically begged T-Dog to save him. It was just a few seconds, but it was enough for T-Dog to see past the mask of anger Merle always had on. Who would have guessed Merle had a deeper side to him? T-Dog's eyes cut over to Merle's two camp mates. Did they know Merle had a human side? It would answer the old question of why Daryl and Arron hung around the old bastard, if they did.
"What about you, T-Dog?" Rick's voice cut through the dark skinned man's thoughts like a hot knife through butter.
"Hm?" T-Dog turned his attention over to the man. "Oh, yeah, sorry," T-Dog stumbled, trying to cover his inattentiveness.
Arron kept most of his attention on Daryl, as he always did. He could really care less about what everyone else in the truck was doing. Daryl had that effect on him. Normally, Arron was observant, catching all the little things people did, all the little lies they told the others, or finding all the secrets someone was trying to hide. However, the moment Daryl walked within his sight, immediately Arron was watching the young man, eyes hardly straying from the boy's body. Arron liked to think Daryl knew Arron watched him, liked to think the boy wanted it, but Arron knew Daryl; had raised him from a babe. The Otaku could say with certainty that Daryl was thick headed. The boy, who saw the world for the reality it was, was an idiot when it came to himself. It could also be the fact that Arron helped raise the boy, he supposed.
Arron didn't have a daddy fetish like Merle seemed so convinced of. Sure, Arron enjoyed a little role play, and, so, most of the girls he picked up had some kind of fetish for having a daddy, or a master, or whatever the hell need they wanted to play with. It didn't mean he wanted to go into the scene life. Sex was sex for Arron. Girls were… decidedly weird, but Arron liked weird… to a point. It took a lot to creep Arron out, either in or out of the bedroom. Anime could force open the mind of even the most narrow-minded assholes, especially if they start young like Arron did.
With Daryl, though, it was so much more than sex. Hell, if it had been about sex, Arron would have already taken his chance and fucked the boy a long time ago. It wasn't like Daryl was very secretive about his crush when he was younger. No. Daryl had Arron wrapped around his little pinky, not his dick. Arron was 'pussy whipped' as Merle put it. Arron would literally be whoever Daryl wanted him to be in or out of the bedroom. If Daryl wanted Arron to be his father figure in a very… platonic way, Arron would be just that.
Though, Arron thought huskily, eyes running down the length of Daryl's figure, I'd really rather it be in the bedroom. The things he could teach the boy. Arron swallowed the saliva that pooled in his mouth, his mind already shifting through images. Absently, Arron wondered if Daryl still hated to be spanked. Maybe, if he promised a treat afterwards the boy would let him?
When he wasn't glaring at T-Dog or Rick or searching through Arron's survival bag, Daryl was watching Arron out of the corner of his eye while he pretended to make sure all his weapons were in order. Well, okay, so he wasn't pretending but that was aside the point. Daryl was watching Arron. The older, probably eldest in the truck, was zoned out again, eyes locked in Daryl's direction. Sometimes Daryl wondered what Arron thought about when his gray eyes glazed over like that. It only ever happened when his pa was looking his way.
When Daryl had first saw that look in Arron's eyes, Daryl had thought it was because the man was getting bored of him. Child hood insecurity helped solidify that thought for long time. Lately, however, Daryl had started to notice subtle shifts in Arron. Literally. Arron would shift very subtly, rearranging his body slightly. The man's fingers twitching as if to grab at something but never reaching for whatever it is. It was almost as if Arron desired whatever he was thinking about, and, it may be just because the man is looking off in his direction but, Daryl couldn't help but think it had something to do with him.
Daryl tried to fight back the heat he could feel raising in his face. He shook the thought out of his brain. Instead, to make his mind off his naughty thoughts, Daryl returned to glaring at T-Dog, this time taking it a step farther. "Better be alright," He growled at the man, shifting his crossbow into a more comfortable position, mostly to hide how uncomfortable he was in the lower area of his body at the moment. Great, he thought, drily, what a great time to give yourself a boner, Darylina. "That's my only word on the matter." Daryl tried to convey his seriousness through his eyes. It was difficult with the truck's constant swaying over the train tracks throwing his bow's hilt into his already uncomfortable lap in a very suggestive rhythm his body was secretly enjoying.
"I told you," T-Dog snapped in annoyance, "the geeks can't get at him. The only thing that's going to get through that door is us."
Glenn slowed to a halt, throwing the truck into park. Fighting the urge to turn the truck back around, he shut off the engine. Turning to the others, Glenn took a deep breath, telling everyone they were there. "We walk from here." Even though he didn't want to, Glenn turned to get out at the same time everyone started to get up.
Daryl was the first one out of the back. Arron followed right after, his right hand resting on the hilt of his katana on his left side, eyes alert for any threats that Daryl may have missed. T-Dog was the last to jump out, not that it surprised Arron any. It may be Arron's vanity and sallowness kicking in, but the man hardly looks like he did much more than eat doughnuts behind a desk somewhere.
Now that he thought about it, what the hell was the black man going to do with no weapon? This was why Arron hated the people in the main camp. At least Glenn knew the layout of the city and wasn't completely useless to the search team. What? Was the guy going to smack the flesh eater with the bolt cutters? Tsh. This guy was a waste of resources. Arron frowned disapprovingly at the man as he followed Daryl. "Of all people they had to take, they take the idiot without a weapon," Arron whispered in Daryl's ear as they walked.
Daryl scowled back at the group over Arron's shoulder, pushing a fence gate out of his way as quietly as he could.
"Merle first or guns?" Rick asked the moment he was through the gate, pausing to turn back towards the search and rescue team as they made it through.
Both Arron and Daryl glared as they turned back towards the group as well. They had kept speed walking, focused only on the fact that Merle was stuck without any protection in the city full of geeks, when Rick had popped the question.
"Merle!" Daryl growled at the man as he swerved around the man, "We aint having this conversation."
Arron nodded in agreement.
"Yes, we. Are," Rick said slowly and with authority born from being a copper. The man turned back to Glenn. "You know the geography," he said as the advanced forward under the bridge, "It's your call."
"Merle's closest," Glenn breathed, huffing in another swallow of air at the end; already tired and they needed to move faster. "The guns would mean doubling back," he pointed out as they jogged, "Merle first."
Not for the first time, Arron wished he had finished that conversation with Merle from the other morning. Maybe if he'd let his balls drop for once where Merle was involved instead of trying to coddle the fucker, Daryl and he wouldn't be in the big city during the Zombie Apocalypse. Somehow, Arron was sure, this was his fault.
They entered the department store together. Stupid idea, Arron thought, but he wasn't the one everyone was looking to for direction. It was clear Rick was the leader of this little outing. He wouldn't be surprised if he became the main camps leader. Arron didn't like the idea of Daryl looking towards the man for instruction. However, watching him throw out easy to read signs, he couldn't help but respect the man a tiny bit. Rick obviously took into account that some, if not most of the group wouldn't know the advanced hand signs, and he obviously had enough logical sense to know to be quiet.
The main camp could do worse, he thought, pressing his thumb to the katana's hilt to release the blade from the sheath. Pulling the blade out slowly to minimize the metal grinding, Arron followed Daryl, careful to keep his steps as quiet as posable on all the broken glass. He paused when Daryl paused to shoot the stray flesh eating asshole in the head. Arron did a quick scan of the store with his eyes, looking for any more that may have been looked over, not trusting the other idiots in the group to find them all. When he found none, Arron slowly raised his hand, pressing the palm to Daryl's lower back, just above his boy's tail bone, giving the young man the all clear. Only then did Daryl move forward to pull his arrow from the Zombie's head. The interaction happening so fast, there was hardly a pause between shooting and moving forward. Most of the others missed the exchange.
Fucking place was empty it seemed, because they made it to the stair well quiet easily after that lone… walker as the fucker named Rick kept calling it. Daryl and Arron worked together like a well-oiled machine, clearing the path every time Rick paused. Boy, did Rick pause a lot too. It got to the point where all Rick had to do is stop and Daryl and Arron were moving forward to check it out. Arron felt a little like the bodyguards to some wealthy asshole or the scout for the king. Every time it ended up being nothing. Every time nothing came up, Arron would get just that much more annoyed with the man. Arron was just relieved to see the door to the roof.
Daryl, on the other hand, was impatient for it to open. As soon as the lock was cut off, Daryl was kicking in the door and running through.