Here it is! Sorry it took so long! Still angsty! I'm already working on the next one, I promise!

I do not own "That Smell" by Lynyrd Skynyrd

The smell of death surrounds you...

-"That Smell" by Lynyrd Skynyrd

Daryl wanted, no he NEEDED to get drunk. He needed to get drunk, stoned, shit, what the fuck ever it took to get her face out of his head. That look Baby Girl had as he bent her tiny wrist back in his rough hand and went to hit her. It was utter terror, the last time he saw that look on her face was when she woke from her coma. And it wasn't fucking Philip who had caused it this time, it was him, the man she had married.

Daryl hit the steering wheel as he pulled out from the back road that led to the farm onto the highway.

"FUCK!" he roared, at nothing and everything. He had no idea where to go. He needed to go away. She had said it herself, they would be JUST FINE without him. Just like everyone else in his damn life. Where could he go? Not the clubhouse, that was HER family not his. They would side with her, had nearly shit themselves they were so happy about 'it'. Couldn't go to Ty's. The Angel's owned the damn thing now, and Beth would be singing. Daryl wracked his brain and then hit on the perfect thing, turning the truck around so quickly it nearly fishtailed. He had driven the truck to the clubhouse the night before because the throttle was sticking on the bike so his leather was in the seat beside him. That would get him preferential treatment where he was going. He slowed down for a second, reaching over to pop open the glove box. He dug for a moment, the bag of weed and rolling papers in his hand a second later. He had been smoking a joint before he came home each night so he could sleep. Then Daryl straightened up, putting the accelerator to the floor.

He was headed to The Lollipop.

Twenty minutes later he pulled into the parking lot. It was dark now, the last light of dusk dying over the treeline. Daryl purposely parked at the end of the lot in the shadow. He rolled the joint with shaking hands, the expulsion of rage leaving his nerves jangling. He cursed, wasting two papers before he got it right. That was a joke. Baby Girl preferred a pipe but could roll a joint one handed with her eyes closed. Wasn't like she was going to be lighting up one anytime soon, though, was it? And wouldn't be lighting one up with him ever again.

Daryl shook his head, lighting it up. He just sat for a while and smoked, playing the scene of that afternoon out in his mind. WHY did she have to be there? He could have gotten all this shit off his chest and been alright for a while! WHY did Norm have to be all touchy feely all of a damn sudden? Now Daryl couldn't even go back to his damn house, the one he built with his own hands.

The more he thought the more bitter he got. The weed began to do away with his inhibition, letting him think things that normally would have been off limits. That little bitch, this was what she wanted. She got her house, had him work like a dog for the last year to put that money up. She probably even got pregnant on purpose. Then she didn't need him anymore. Hell, she had said that herself, hadn't she? She was probably sitting at home all happy and shit, buying baby stuff online with the money HE earned.

Daryl flicked the roach out the window and then opened the door to slide out. He slipped on his leather, then making his way to the door. Before he got there his phone vibrated in the pocket of his jeans. It took him a minute to get it out, already flying high on Columbian Gold, but then he scowled at the name on the screen. Mama Deb could go fuck herself as far as he was concerned. Sure as hell, Amber probably called her as soon as he left, bitching about the mess he'd made. He could see her now, feeding her mama and daddy a sob story. Mean old Daryl fucked up the kitchen and fought with Uncle Norm. He put the phone on silent, keeping it in his hand as he went in.

Daryl went straight to one of the private booths in the back, this was the first time he had been here without Baby Girl since his bachelor party. They had come together a couple times over the past year, even once with Beth and Merle. Amber always bought him a lap dance with Nikki and they always fucked like animals when they got home. Hell, once they didn't even make it out of the parking lot, rocking the axles on the truck. Daryl threw his phone on the table and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes for a moment, trying to get the picture out of his head. Why did everything, every damn THOUGHT, always have to lead back to HER?!

Angel of darkness is upon you

Stuck a needle in your arm

So take another toke, have some blow for your nose

One more drink fool, will drown you

Ooooh that smell

Can't you smell that smell

Ooooh that smell

The smell of death surrounds you

Kaye grabbed Deb as soon as she ran in the doors of the emergency room. Barry was right on her heels, Merle and Beth only feet behind.

"Where is she?!" Deb asked, eyes wide.

"They just took her back, we stayed out here to wait on y'all..." she filled in her friend and the younger Angel in on what had happened as Barry and Merle cornered Norm.

"What. The Fuck. Happened." Barry snarled, his eyes going to Baby Girl's blood on the front of Norm's vest. "He hit her? Hit my little girl?"

Norm shook his head. "No! They fought...argued. Me and him got a few licks in on each other. She made him leave. After that...I don't know, man. She got so upset, started bleeding and hurting real bad."

"What was they fightin about? He bein a dick?!" Merle asked, well aware of his brother's attitude lately.

Norm looked at him for a second and decided he was done lying to his family. "Yeah. She heard him say some shit to me."

"What, Sarge? Tell me."

Norm sighed, knowing he was about to bring hell down on Daryl's head. Part of him wanted to though after hearing how Amber cried for him all the way to the hospital, even after what Daryl had said. "He said he didn't want the baby. That he had considered asking her to...get rid of it."

Merle's eyes went cold and Norm knew he had just seen the DEMON Mastema take up residence. "He wanted'er ta kill it?! Our BLOOD?! DIXON BLOOD?!" Merle cracked his knuckles. "I done beat his ass over her once. I'm beatin him inta the ground this time."

"You better hope you find him before me then." Norm brought his head up to look at his friend of over two decades. He had only heard that tone in Barry's voice a hand full of times. Thing about Barry was, he didn't even have to let Marchosias in his head to be a killing machine. "Because once I get done with him, there won't be enough left to beat."

They walked over to their Angel's but a nurse came up to the group before they could say anything. "This Mrs. Dixon's family?"

"Yes!" several of them answered in unison. Blood or not, broken marriages or not, family was family.

She gave them a desperate look. "Mrs. Dixon won't let us treat her, check her. She just keeps calling for her husband. Is there someone here who can help? The OB doesn't want to sedate her if he doesn't have to, it's not good for the baby."

Deb spoke up without hesitation, taking Kaye's hand. "We'll go back." She turned to Beth, "Stay out here, other Angels are on their way." Then she turned to her husband, her look going cold. "FIND HIM. Don't kill him, YET." Barry nodded grimly as did Merle. Kaye looked at Norm, the hand that wasn't in Deb's ghosting over the bruise Daryl had put on his jaw before pulling him down for their foreheads to meet. "Find him, baby. She needs him, whether he believes it or not. And if she loses this baby, it's not the DEMONS Daryl will have to worry about, because the Angel's will kill him."

Norm nodded and then she was gone, Deb pulling her to the back to Baby Girl. The DEMONS headed out to the parking lot. "I'm figuring he went to get drunk." Merle spoke up, straddling his bike. "I'm headin ta Ty's."

Barry nodded. "I'll go to the clubhouse." he looked at Norm. "You got any ideas?"

"Yeah. I'll call if I find him." Norm jumped in Kaye's Suburban, thankful that the farm was on the way to his destination. He wanted to be on his bike while looking. He figured Daryl would want to be as far away from family as possible. That was good, meaning Barry and Merle probably wouldn't be the ones to find him. He texted Daryl's number one last time as he switched from the SUV to the bike. There was no answer.

Whiskey bottles, and brand new cars

Oak tree you're in my way

There's too much coke and too much smoke

Look what's going on inside you

Ooooh that smell

Can't you smell that smell

Ooooh that smell

The smell of death surrounds you

The light on Daryl's phone flashed franticly but it just blended into the neon of the Lollipop in Daryl's marijuana saturated brain. He was focused on his conversation with the waitress.

"Drink?" she asked, pen tapping on a barely clad breast.

"Southern Comfort. Jus bring a bottle and a glass."

She nodded. "Ya want a dance, darlin?"

"Nikki workin?"

"Yeah. How many dances?"

Daryl held up a couple of hundred dollar bills between his first two fingers. "Full service."

She raised an eyebrow but then saw the Demons leather. Taking the bills and slipping them into her apron, she then withdrew two condoms, encased in gold foil that was embossed with the clubs logo. She laid them on the table, the sign that full service had been ordered by the customer for the dancers who were willing to do such things.

Daryl was a couple drinks into the bottle when Nikki came into the booth, wearing a black g-string and knee high black patent stripper boots. She smiled at Daryl when she came in but he just glowered back, throwing back another shot. Then her smile fell as her eyes darted around.

"You're alone?"

"Does it matter?" he shot back, refilling his glass, the bottle unsteady and clinking against the rim of the glass.

She saw the condoms then and her eyes widened. Nikki didn't have a problem giving the right clients "full service". But this one...she had only seen Daryl here with his wife, except for when she danced at his bachelor party. He threw back the drink and then jerked his head back, motioning her over. She slowly took her place on his lap and began to grind to an old Lynyrd Skynyrd song.

And his phone kept blinking.

Now they call you Prince Charming

Can't speak a word when you're full of 'ludes

Say you'll be all right come tomorrow

But tomorrow might not be here for you

Ooooh that smell

Can't you smell that smell

Ooooh that smell

The smell of death surrounds you

Deb paced outside of her daughters room there in the emergency department, texting Daryl's phone again. Kaye was taking a turn inside trying to keep Amber calm. The bleeding seemed to have slowed some but the doctor wanted to check her. Amber had kept refusing, even kicking and thrashing when they attempted. She just kept calling for Daryl and clinging to her mother or Kaye, weeping for the baby.

Kaye stuck her head out of the door. "She wants you."

Deb stepped back in, immediately leaning over the stretcher. "Hey, Baby Girl."

"Mama, this is my fault." Amber sobbed into the woman's chest. "I told him to leave."

Deb shook her head. "No, girl. Everything's going to be all right. It's not anybody's fault." She didn't believe the last part but declaring whose fault it was exactly wasn't going to calm her daughter at the moment.

"But he was acting crazy. Mama, what if he hurts himself? What about the baby?"

Deb cast a helpless look at Kaye who came to sit on the other side of the stretcher. "It's alright, Baby Girl. Listen, you've got to let them check you. They want to do an ultrasound. You want some more baby pictures don't you?"

Amber shook her head franticly. "No! Not until he's here! What if...what if..." she broke into sobs, still clinging to her mother. Kaye gave her best friend a sorrowful look and stepped out of the room, pulling her phone out of her pocket. No matter how crazy Daryl was, she knew he loved Amber and would be here if he knew what was going on.

God, kid. Answer your damn phone.

Hey, you're a fool you

Stick them needles in your arm

I know I been there before

The smell of death surrounds you.

Daryl leaned back in the chair, giving himself over to the feel of the body in his lap. Weed and Southern Comfort were dulling his senses, confusing them. His hands twitched, longing to tangle themselves in her hair. But it was wrong, several shades too light and not long enough. What had Baby Girl done to her hair?

He pulled at the g-string with a smirk. She always liked how he ripped her panties off of her. Oh well, another pair lost. Her hands came up, seeming to hesitate before untying the strings. Then she was bare before him.

"Baby Girl..." he murmured, so close to her stomach that his breath ghosted over her flesh. Her smell was wrong too though. It wasn't bad, just...wrong. This wasn't rain and cold clean fast flowing creeks. This was musk and some kind of flowers. Daryl frowned for a second but the thought he had was lost in the haze. Her tits were just above his face and he grinned up at them. They were too small, she must have lost more weight. Was she still sick? Something nagged at his mind. She was sick? She needed him? What?

Daryl brought his hand up. Baby Girl must be fine if she felt good enough to ride his lap like this. He reached up to cup her breast, pull her body to his mouth. He just wanted a taste...just wanted his girl back...

The phone sat on the table, blinking again, a lost reminder of a life he may have abandoned.

Angel of darkness is upon you

Stuck a needle in your arm

So take another toke, have a blow for your nose

One more drink fool, will drown you

Ooooh that smell

Can't you smell that smell

Ooooh that smell

The smell of death surrounds you

Norm rode like a bat out of hell. It would take forty minutes to get there. He took back roads, figuring Daryl would stick to them if he was drunk. God, if he had known this would happen he would have stopped him from leaving. Norm still didn't know if he would get Kaye back, no matter what he tried. But Amber and Daryl, they would die if apart. Already their baby's life hung in the balance. He forced himself to focus, looking at every vehicle he passed and met. That beat to hell truck would be easy to spot.

Whiskey bottles, and brand new cars

Oak tree you're in my way

There's too much coke and too much smoke

Look what's going on inside you

Ooooh that smell

Can't you smell that smell

Ooooh that smell

The smell of death surrounds you

Daryl was a hairs breadth away from touching her when a hand firmly encircled his wrist. He looked up at her face confused. He recoiled then.

This wasn't Baby Girl.

"I'm not her." Nikki said firmly. "If you want her, then you need to go home."

Daryl's eyes grew wide and he clumsily pushed the stripper off his lap, hands now trying their best to stay away from her skin. Nikki climbed off, grabbing her g-string as she shook her head. Daryl ignored her, the blinking light of his phone mocking him. He snatched it up.

8 text messages.

He opened them up, each one making his stomach sicker.

Kaye: GET HOME NOW!

Sarge: TAKING AMBER TO HOSPITAL. GET THERE!

Mama Deb: WHERE ARE YOU?

Merle: Thats our blood. Imma kill you for what you did.

Beth: Please, Amber needs you.

Barry: YOU ARE DEAD.

Norm: She's bleeding, dont know if baby is okay.

Mama Deb: Please! She won't let the doctors touch her! Where are you?

Daryl leapt up, clumsily pushing past Nikki and staggering to the door. He stumbled in the parking lot, hitting his knees in the gravel, the stones biting into his palms. He cursed and pushed back up to his feet immediately. It took him a minute to get into the truck, key jittering around the lock in his inebriated state.

Daryl pulled himself behind the wheel and cranked it, spraying gravel as he gunned the engine. The hospital. Jesus, she was bleeding. That was how he almost lost her before, all that damn blood. Baby Girl needed him and he wasn't FUCKING THERE. This was his fault. He shouldn't have left, shouldn't have said what he did. She told him that she had believed in him, believed that he could do it. Wasn't that how it always was with them? He thought he couldn't and Amber would show him that he could?

I'm coming, sweet girl. Oh Jesus, I'm so sorry. What have I done?

Daryl took one hand off the wheel to swipe the back across his face. Why was his vision all wavery? His hand came away wet as he brought it back to the wheel. The thought to call somebody didn't even occur to him until he was halfway there. He grabbed the phone off the seat beside him, looking down as he searched for who to call. Deb? Norm? Would he even answer after that fight? Merle?

The truck began to drift left, wheels diving off the asphalt. He was still looking down at the phone when the one hundred year old oak tree parted the grille.

Daryl's last thought before everything went black?

She needs me.

The smell of death is upon you...