Chapter 3:

Meat

Daryl spent a lot of time going in and out. When he was awake, the world was a blurred nonsense. Bits and pieces would just start to clear and he was on his way out again. In the dark, he saw faces. Merle and Andrea. Dale. Hershel, Beth, and Carol. Tyreese and Sasha. Glenn. Michonne. Judith. Carl.

Sophia.

Awake or asleep, he was colder than he'd ever been. Kneeling over the trough back in Terminus, he knew what was coming. He'd known the second he saw the shiny metal with its drain and the two men with their aprons and the...butcher...working across the room. Those little details had been shoved down until now, but he knew then what they were doing in Terminus. What was going to happen to them all.

One by one, they were gonna die. First were the poor bastards at the end. Daryl felt the first crack of the bat in his own body when the blonde guy went down. He heard the slick sound the knife made passing through his throat and then the rain on aluminum sound of his blood hitting the trough. Of them, Glenn was going to be the first. Four men were dead and dying, what remained of their life dripping out, and Glenn just got real still. Daryl understood.

This was the real shit and they weren't getting out of it. Being first – or in Daryl's case, second – meant he wouldn't have to sit and watch the others die waiting for his turn. Dying first, he could handle because they were gonna die, no doubt about that. Only the act of a nonexistent god would save them now.

But they did survive and he was still just watching everyone else die around him.

Second only to the cold was the invisible hole. He felt it first when they'd found Merle's damn hand just lying on that roof in Atlanta. Daryl had other shit to focus on so it remained only the size of a pinprick. Not really noticeable, but there all the same to remind him that a piece was missing.

With every death, the edges of it had been creeping larger. Most days, Daryl could push it away. He always found something else to do. Something to keep his mind away from the worry that one day, he would wake up to a cave in, his outer body having not been able to hold itself together with all the supports gone.

So many people. Dead or lost and not coming back. All he wanted was to keep them safe and he'd fucked up at that royally so many times.

His fault. All of this.

His head still hurt, but Daryl's thinking had smoothed out when he came fully awake for the last time. Waking up was good – the reality of the situation they were in, less so.

He woke up lying on his back. There was a brick wall on his left. Someone had repositioned his hands so that they were lying on his stomach, but he was still bound. A shirt had been rolled up and put under his head to keep it off the concrete. In spite of everything, he was almost comfortable.

Off on his right were the poles. All he could see of the group were their backs. Except for Rick and Maggie. She had to turn her head uncomfortably, but she would be able to see him if she wanted to. Even in the warm glow of the fire still burning, her skin was a sick pale and he wondered about everything that happened at the church. Where Glenn and the others were.

Rick barely had to move his head to look at Daryl. Right now, though, his eyes were shut and Daryl could almost make out his lips moving.

Did Rick pray? Daryl couldn't remember ever seeing him do it even when Hershel was around. He was doing something now, though. Maybe working out how to get out of here. To find Carl and Judith, if they were still...

Daryl choked and felt that hollow space inch larger.

There were two fires that he could see – the one that was close to the poles and that the Terminans were also gathered around and the other was farther away with only one figure that he could see standing next to it. That was the one they were using to cook on.

The sounds coming from that second fire were so loud that he could hear them perfectly fine from where he was by the building. He'd cooked a lot of things in his life, but Daryl had never heard anything like this. It was almost like the meat – Carol's meat, Carol's skin, and Carol's bones – were giving one final protest to this horrible treatment. Even worse than the sounds was the way the smell wasn't all that different from anything else he'd cooked on an open flame. It should have been horrible when in fact, it smelled good and that thought alone made him roll onto his side and retch.

There was vomit already there by him. Had he thrown up before? Daryl wasn't sure – his time drifting in and out was just a patchy blur. A sound burbled up in his throat. He thought it might have been a laugh, but who the hell could be sure?

It was funny, though.

Daryl had tried so damn hard to not get eaten by the dead and of course it was the living that was going to do it. He snorted and the world went blurry. When it cleared, Gareth was sitting beside him, his back to the wall, legs bent over Daryl's. He had a huge piece of something in his hand and Daryl's mind tried to tell him exactly what it was, but he silenced that voice. Deer, he told himself, it had to be deer meat. None of it was true. People just don't eat people.

"Hungry?"

He was. God help him, but he was. Smelling what was cooking and knowing what it really was – who – and he was still hungry. Daryl's throat worked and he rolled to the side. All he did was cough over the puddle. He had nothing left. When he looked, Gareth was fighting to get a piece of meat off, worrying it between his teeth and Daryl thought that maybe, just maybe, he could find something more than bile to come up.

"I know that it's not ideal." Gareth said. "But it's the best option we had. You've killed people, but I can see that you've never been so hungry that it feels like you're hollow inside."

The word 'hollow' stuck out to Daryl. Hollow, empty, alone, hungry. They bounced around, but he couldn't seem to make them mean anything.

"When you know that if you don't do something, your body will just collapse in on itself, you'll take anything you can get to fill that hole. Anything to keep you and yours alive. Doesn't matter what it is. Doesn't matter what hunger. Like at the oak. I needed to feel something and I did. Right now, I'm hungry and I'm eating."

Daryl spoke and his voice didn't sound like his own. It was too hoarse and cracked in the wrong places. "Why?"

"Why did I pick you or..." Gareth raised his remaining meat to finish off the question. Not needing an answer to know where Daryl was going, he shrugged and changed his hold on the meat to where he was gripping it like an apple. "Terminus really did start out as a place to help people. But the end of the world just turned some assholes into bigger assholes."

"Mm," Daryl twisted his hands together, testing out the knots there. Gareth's eyes locked onto the movement before going back to the meat in his hand. He squeezed it and clear juice ran down his skin to the concrete.

"That guy who killed your brother – let him turn – he's dead?"

"Yeah."

"We did good things and then these people came and I saw what people could do to other people. The things they did to my mother...to me and my friends...I still dream about it all the time." Gareth took a shaking breath. "You think I'm a monster, but I'm not. Not like they were. I've never...

"They did horrible things to all of us. When we got free, there were two promises I made to everyone who survived. I would never let anyone hurt us again and no one would go hungry. This," he held up the meat, "knocked out two birds with one stone."

Daryl watched him finish it off, licking his fingers clean. "When we searched Terminus for other survivors, I found my mother's body in the Sanctuary. She'd been chewed on – tore up – by those things. Her insides were gone, but she was moving."

Gareth rolled onto his knees and crawled up Daryl's body, straddling his waist and pushing his bound hands up to his chest. "There wasn't anything inside her and all of a sudden, there wasn't anything inside me, either. Not when I saw her lying there. Not when I pushed the knife into her head and left her there. I wasn't mad - I wasn't even sad and that scared me, Daryl. I was supposed to just hit the person who was doing security at the church, but I saw you and..."

Gareth bent down and kissed Daryl. He braced his hands on the concrete to either side of Daryl's head. When he pulled back, he stared down at Daryl. "I felt something and I ran toward it. I didn't know how much I missed this. I was so focused on keeping everyone safe. Making sure that what happened wouldn't happen again."

He went down to kiss Daryl again and let out a small sound as Daryl's hands grabbed his neck. The angle was horrible and the way his hands were tied made it hurt, but Daryl pushed him up, thumbs digging into his throat. Gareth coughed, but didn't struggle, didn't try to stop him. He just stared down at him as Daryl squeezed. Daryl thought about what happened to Carol and the explosion at the church. About Tyreese and all of the missing people. He squeezed harder and then his hands just relaxed, falling down between them.

The man dropped his forehead to rest on Daryl's chest for a minute, coughing. "I know some people like that kind of sex...me, not so much."

Slowly, he eased his body down to lie half on Daryl, half on the concrete, head on Daryl's shoulder."You understand, don't you? My brother – "

Daryl tried to shrug Gareth off of him, but the man didn't move. "I don't want to hear about your brother or your mother. Carol was a good person. She just wanted to save us and Tyreese...he was such a nice guy. He could have killed your man, but he didn't because that's the kind of guy he is. Was."

Gareth nuzzled his face into Daryl's chest, stretching his arm out over both of Daryl's. "We were all good, once."

"You still could be," Daryl whispered.

For a long time, Gareth was quiet. Daryl felt himself starting to drift off again when he heard, "Can't go back, Daryl."

They were back at the tree only this time Gareth was facing him, his legs hooked around Daryl's waist. Gareth twisted against the tree, but he was completely at Daryl's mercy. Daryl fucked him harder into the tree and he caught just the barest glimpse of the way the bark was chewing up the other man's back. Gareth didn't even seem to feel it, moaning all the same. Daryl didn't have to worry about the sound attracting walkers because they were already here, wandering around them, weaving in and out of the trees.

"Oh God...Daryl..."

"Yeah," he grunted, fucking him still harder. The walkers continued on as if nothing was happening here and Daryl knew he was right. There really was nothing separating the living and the dead anymore.

Gareth bit down hard on his bottom lip and blood ran down his chin. "Oh fuck...oh fuck...there..."

A walker clawed around the tree. Daryl got one glimpse of its face before it bit into Gareth's neck.

Carol.

Daryl pulled away from them, falling onto his bare ass in the leaves. He scrabbled backwards, unable to get up. Before Carol released him, Gareth had already changed. His skin had turned a sick yellow, his eyes mapped out in lines of bright red. His teeth snapped, clicking together louder than they should have.

"No..." Daryl moaned.

"Rrrraargh...rrraaarch...raaa..." was the sound from Gareth's throat.

Both of them fell on him while he screamed.

Daryl started awake, heart pounding in his chest. Gareth raised his head just enough to look at him. He mumbled, "Wha's wrong?"

"You." Daryl said.

Gareth's head came back on his shoulder. "What else is new?"

The sun was just up, the fires burning low. When he was sure Gareth was asleep again, Daryl looked at Rick to find the man's eyes open and watching him. He didn't know what he expected, but it wasn't the cool gaze that met him.

He looked away from Rick to where Merle sat. It didn't surprise him. Merle had always been one to show up when things had already been blown to shit. Unless, of course, he was the one to blow them up. He smiled that good ol' Merle smile and Daryl wished more than anything that his big brother was still alive. He'd figure something out and they'd barely make it, but they would. That crazy-ass Dixon luck.

Hey, Baby Brother. How's that stickin' with your pal Rick workin' out for you? I'm guessin' not too good with the fuck you're in right now. Damn, Daryl.

Daryl closed his eyes so that he wouldn't have to look at the dead man. He muttered, "Not now, Merle. It's lookin' like I'll be seeing you soon."

That how you seein' it, huh? Ah well, that proves it: faggots like you didn't belong before and you ain't got a place now.

Daryl's eyes snapped open. Merle was standing now, warming his hands in front of what was left of the nearest fire. He rubbed his mitts together and walked between Rosita and Bob to stand in front of him.

"That might be one of the nicest things you've ever said to me."

Hey, Merle pointed at him, who beat the shit out of that kid that called you a fag?

"Yeah and you turned around to kick my ass, too."

Merle crouched down beside them. Didn't stop you from fuckin' that pretty boy in the woods last night, mmmhmm. What happened there, Daryl?

He looked down at Gareth as the man made a small sound in his sleep. Gareth's face tensed and then relaxed. "I don't know."

Heh. I would never have thought it, but you might actually have a chance because of that.

Daryl shook his head. "No."

Yes. I don't care how you got to do it – what you gotta eat – but you ain't allowed to give up. Dixons don't give up."

"I can't, Merle. It's - "

Oh, bullshit you can't. You can do any fuckin' thing you have to. And you will or I'm gonna send Dad out here to smack some smarts into you. He smiled.

Daryl smiled back. "Fuck you, too, Merle."

Just like that he was gone. The sun went up higher and Gareth's head rolled a little on his shoulder, arm tightening against him. A minute later, he said, "What do your dead mean to you?"

"Nothin'. They're just dead." Daryl muttered.

"Ours mean survival. Every person we've dealt with – every person we've lost – has helped us become stronger. Without them, we'd be dead." Gareth raised his head and looked at Daryl.

"In the end, everyone's just meat, anyway. Carol was meat. Tyreese was meat. You're meat, I'm meat, and no matter what we do, something will eat us. If it's not us, then it's the dead. If it's not them, it's whatever animal or insect comes along after we're gone." Gareth ran his tongue over his teeth. "People taste surprisingly good. Especially women. Heh, Alex, my brother, had this crazy theory that it was because of that childbearing fat they all have. He always liked to think about shit like that."

"Hey, Gareth, Mike and Greg are back." The younger guy that had helped Martin drag Tyreese was walking toward them. He looked like he hadn't really left his teens behind, yet. In both hands, he held oddly shaped slices of meat. Daryl's eyes fell on the gun shoved down the front of his jeans. He held out a piece almost the size of Daryl's hand to Gareth. "Martin spent most of the night taking care of the black guy to get him on the fire, so we're finishing up what's left of the woman."

Gareth patted Daryl on the chest and sat up, taking the meat. Daryl watched Gareth tear off a strip of meat, chewing it right in front of him. "Did they find anyone in the woods?"

The guy glanced at Daryl. "No. They found a trail leading away from the back of the church, but lost it. If anyone's alive, they ain't coming this way."

Gareth nodded. "Do they know how many might have gotten away?"

"Nah, I don't think so."

Gareth's eyes ran over Daryl's face. "Okay. I want you to go tell Mike and Greg to grab a bite to eat and get some rest. You, Ruth, and I will go check out the church and see if we can find out who's dead. Martin can watch the camp." He looked up at the guy. "Got all that, Albert?"

Albert nodded and started to leave before stopping again. "Um, what about him? Shouldn't we put his arms back behind him again so he can't do anything?"

Gareth slid his free hand down Daryl's arm to tug on the rope at his wrists. "He tried to kill me last night and didn't. Martin can take care of it if he does try anything. I trust him to do that much."

The boy left.

"Hungry?" Gareth asked.

Daryl shook his head. He couldn't even look at the meat in Gareth's hand. Not seeing it couldn't make him not hear Gareth chewing, though. After he swallowed, he said, "You're a survivor, Daryl, I know it. Couldn't die even if you wanted to. Starving to death is a slow, painful thing."

"I can't." Eyes cast to the side, Daryl didn't notice Gareth moving closer until his face was right in front of him. He pressed his mouth to Daryl's and then Daryl tasted meat. His first instinct was to try spitting it out. Gareth's mouth clamped down on his, pinning his hands to his chest when Daryl tried to push him away.

Daryl's whole body went limp when the mush slid down his throat. One of Gareth's hands came up to stroke the side of his face before he pulled back. Daryl felt sick, but his stomach wasn't doing anything other than sitting still and that somehow made everything worse. Gareth pressed their foreheads together. "There. You're almost one of us."

"Then untie me." Daryl's voice grated.

"Do good like this and you'll be up and walking around like a free man in no time." Gareth tugged on the rope between his hands. He helped Daryl sit up and turn so that he was leaning back against the building. The others were beginning to stir, pulling at their bonds as they woke up. Rick just sat still, eyes on where they were against the building. He had to have seen what just happened, but he wasn't showing any sign either way on how he felt about it.

Gareth turned to him. "Did your people have a rendezvous point set up in the woods?"

Daryl shook his head. "We weren't at the church long enough and we weren't planning on staying long enough to need one."

Gareth's eyes bounced between Daryl's. "If you're lying to me, you'll be the next one dead. Being a good fuck won't stop me from killing you."

"Figured as much." Daryl said. "I don't want to die. Not yet and sure as hell not like this."

"Good, cause I don't want you dead."

"The others don't have to die, either." Daryl said. "Rick will kill you and Maggie would help him. But the others – Tara, Bob, Rosita and Eugene – they don't owe us anything. All they want is to go to D.C. If you let just them go...they'll leave. No problem to you."

Gareth dusted off his pants. "Can't let them go, Daryl. Sit tight, I'll be back later."

Hehehe, Merle laughed on his left, that's my boy. You think I liked the Governor? He saved my life, gave me a safe place to live. Hell, when I thought I was going to die, I cut off my own hand! You think I wanted to do that? If eatin' someone would have saved my hand, you think I wouldn't have done that?

"You let him fuck you, too?" Daryl mumbled. When he looked, Merle was gone. He looked out across the camp and found Martin's eyes on him from where he sat. Rick was also watching and Daryl had to look away from him. A minute later, the man who shot Carol and mutilated Tyreese stood in front of him.

Daryl had to roll his head all the way back to the wall to see Martin's swollen face. The hood was down this time and he was wearing a faded ballcap that Daryl couldn't remember if he'd seen last night. Martin crouched down and now Daryl saw the fist-sized piece of meat he held in one hand. "You see my face?"

"Looks like you ended up on the wrong side of a fight."

"The only wrong side is the side that's dead. I'm not and he is. I call that winning. You were close to that woman last night? She was your friend?"

Daryl stared at him. Martin smiled and his face twitched in pain. He held the meat in front of Daryl's mouth where he could take it if he wanted to. "Here, have a bite. I'm sure she'd want you to."

"Get the fuck away from me." Daryl growled.

"Can't say I've ever really understood some of the things Gareth does." Martin tore off a chunk of meat and Daryl got the barest flash of a nature show a life time ago. Hyenas tearing up a carcass. "You know, I am really going to enjoy killing and eating you and your friends."

He tore off another piece, chewed, and spit it all over Daryl's face. It was force of will that Daryl kept his hands in his lap. Attacking this man would only manage to get himself killed. Martin dropped the meat in front of Daryl and walked back to the fire.

Staring hard at Martin's back, Daryl wiped the bits of meat and spit off his face.

Coming on Monday...

Chapter 4: The Choice

'Ain't no monsters now, Baby Brother. Only the living and the dead.'