Against the Wind Chapter 10, a walking dead fanfic

Don't exactly know how to feel about this chapter, to tell you the truth . . . not very fond of the beginning but the middle is decent and the ending came out pretty damn good. And Daryl and Ethan do have one of those little heart-to-heart, father/son talks that everyone seems to go batshit crazy for whenever I include them, so I guess I can't complain too much ;)

Oh, and yeah, remember that curve-ball I told you guys was coming and that I couldn't decide if I wanted to include a couple of chapters back? Yeah, its at the end of this chapter and it settles on a little bit of a cliffhanger, so . . . enjoy (also, shit WILL be explained later, so please, hold all cusswords until the END of the next chapter, possibly).

HaloHunter89: I think a lot of Sam's motives when it comes to Ethan - Ethan more than Tess, in fact - stem primarily because he IS jealous. Here he is, having raised Ethan since he was born, only to be trumped by a dirty redneck who he met only, what? A year ago? - only to see that they have a better relationship than anything Sam could have hoped to achieve with Ethan. And between you, me and the kitchen sink, Wren MIGHT have to assert her dominance over someone in regards to Ethan pretty damn soon (spoiler) ;)

NanamiYatsumaki: You and everyone else. But really, the irresponsible parent comment/I raised Ethan comment is the only comment he has that can get to Daryl and even then, I think Daryl is quickly finding that, that comment doesn't bother him nearly as much as used to. See how quickly he recovered from it and snapped back with a pretty damn good comeback?

DarylDixon'sLover: Thanks hun :)

Red . . .

He constantly felt Sam give way underneath every punch he threw into his body and felt a dark satisfaction at it. The dark wolf inside him growled appreciatively as a warm, sticky liquid began coating his hands.

"Daryl! Holy shit, Daryl – get off of him!"

"Fucker - how this for punchin'?!"

Red . . .

Black . . .

Red . . .

His arms were starting to get tired, but still, the punches came . . . red continued to flood his vision - appearing murky ad violent - like it was pulsating in his field of vision.

"Tyrese, get over here, we need to get him off of him!"

"Shit, I think he's gonna be fine, but -!"

"Daryl, stop!"

"Deddy! Deddy, think of momma – think of momma!"

Red . . .

Blood was red . . . wasn't it? Or was it black . . .?

"First time ya kill a man, son, ya come to a crossroads in ya life – ya learn somethin' 'bout yaself. Ya don' learn what ya capable of, or how bad of a person ya are, or any of that fuckin' bullshit. Ya learn if ya can sleep at night or if ya can'. Ya either haunted by it or ya not . . ."

Lips swollen and begging for more, she gazed up him, her still eyes peering up at him, dark from underneath thick black eyelashes . . . she closed her eyes, allowing herself to be washed up in the sensation of his hands running reverently over her body . . . they ran along the smooth expanse of olive-colored flesh stretched out before him, shining against the stark white bedsheets beneath them like a beacon. . . over the smooth swell of her hips (the voluptuous swell that he loved so much) and the smooth plain of her stomach that eventually gave way to the part of her that had housed and then shaped and crafted all three of his children for nine long months, before they eventually reached the smooth mounds of her breasts . . . when one of his hands moved up her collarbone to gently cup her jaw, his fingers moving into the silken strands of her blue-black hair as his thumb lightly traced her bottom lip, she finally opened her eyes and he felt his breath catch in his throat and his heart to hammer away in his chest . . .

Her lips silently formed his name as she arched underneath him, fingers digging into his hair, guiding his mouth down to hers . . .

There was a sharp ringing in his ears as everything began to come back into focus as his head was filled with images of Tessa . . . and suddenly, the necklace around his neck seemed to be as heavy as a millstone.

Red . . .

Red . . . why was there so much Red?

"Is he okay?"

"Yeah, we know he is, but what about Daryl?"

"Holy shit – did Sam do that? Fuck!"

"Deddy . . . deddy, are you okay? Deddy, answer me - deddy!"

Red . . .

Pain . . .

And then . . . blackness.

"Hey, you doing okay?"

Daryl glanced at Ethan as he quickened his pace slightly so that he could walk in tandem beside him, and he saw the look of slight nervousness on his face before he nodded stiffly. His head pounded like someone was taking a ball-peen hammer and knocking it repeatedly against the walls of his skull; his whole body ached like he was ninety-years-old and he knew, without a doubt, that at least a couple of his ribs were bruised. He took a moment to observe his hands, still ever-so-slightly stained a dark red. He had tried washing the blood away in the stream a while back, as Tyrese washed the blood from his shirt and as Martin checked over him and Sam, and while a majority of the black and red blood had come off in the fast moving current, the stains still lingered . . . the stains that could not be scrubbed off.

Saying him and Sam had beat the shit out of each other, could be called a little bit of an understatement. When Sam's fist had first collided with his jaw, Daryl had done more than just black out. His entire vision had turned a Terminator red and all he could see – all he could think about - was ripping out Sam's throat. And while it was certainly true that Daryl had handed him his ass on a platter before proceeding to continue to stomp it into the ground before Tyrese, Martin and Ethan had managed to drag him off of him, Sam had gotten in a few good punches himself, which accounted for the aches and pains in his ribs, legs and head.

Not-to-mention, he was pretty sure he had lost one of his molars, too, due to the punch that had knocked his jaw out of place.

He gingerly rubbed at his still sharply aching jaw and flexed it slightly, giving a wince when it let out a sharp snap of pain. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Hurt like a bitch and ma entire torso is black and blue, but I'll be fine. We're Dixons - we're fast healers." He told him before glancing at him. "I'm sorry ya had to see tha', though. I-I lost it, ya know? All I could see was red and . . . I wanted nothin' more but to punch him and keep punchin' him until tha lights behind his eyes went out, but . . ." He told him, trailing off, and Ethan gave a shrug and glanced at him.

"Don't worry about it – he had it coming, if you ask me." He told him quietly before glancing over his shoulder at the man in question. Sam looked like a walking, (well, more like limping) talking bag of hamburger meat and was trailing a few meters behind them, separated by Michonne, Martin and Tyrese at all times. "If it means anything, deddy . . . I was rootin' for you the entire time. I mean, yeah, I was acting terrified in front of everyone else, but secretly . . . secretly, I was hoping you'd pound his ass so far into the ground, he'd end up in China!" He told him with a grin and the corners of Daryl's mouth twitched upwards with the bare beginnings of a smile. He wrapped an arm around his son's shoulders and pulled him in a one-armed hug.

"What are ya talkin' 'bout? There was no way I was gonna lose to tha' Yankee! I'd never be able to face ya momma again!" Ethan grinned as they fell into a slightly awkward silence then, one that had Daryl glancing at him after a while, his good humor gone. "Ya know . . . ya know tha' I would never hurt ya, right? Tha' I would never do tha' to ya?" Daryl asked him, his voice firm and slow and Ethan furrowed his brows in confusion as he nodded. "I would never hurt ya or tha twins or ya momma, Ethan. Yeah, there was tha' one time, but it ain' ever happenin' again, I promise ya tha' -!"

"Deddy, I know." Ethan interrupted him firmly, but gently as he glanced up at him. "You ain't like Grandpa Will – you ain't gonna hurt us. You would rather kill yourself than lay a hand on one of us. Hell, I'm surprised you didn't when you slapped momma that one time." He told him and Daryl let out a scoff, ignoring the fact that Ethan had just called his old man 'grandpa'. Hell, Will Dixon was probably laughing in his grave at that - he had never expected to ever become a grandfather.

"Believe me, I debated on it. She done nothin' to deserve tha' and I allowed ma anger to get tha better of me – jus' like I did back then," He shook his head. "I promise ya, Ethan, right here and now, tha', tha' anger ain' ever happenin' again. I ain' ever gonna let maself get tha' bad again - not in front of ya, ya momma or anyone else for tha' matter! Hell, if ya hadn' screamed at me to think of Tess, I prolly wouldn' have come back."

Ethan grinned and nodded as he let out a little laugh. "Deddy, just warning ya now, but you're starting to get a little bit too overly-sentimental for my comfort level." He told him and Daryl grinned and let out a laugh as he nodded and released him, where he gently pushed him away.

"Ya right. I don' do overly-sentimental shit anyway – makes me feel icky." Ethan grinned and looked away.

"That's not what I heard from momma a couple of nights back . . ." He continued to grin and Daryl immediately shuddered.

"Ya know, tha's a little creepy – I ain' gonna lie. I mean, it's kinda a little less creepy than me knowin' tha' ya and Wren have sex but knowin' tha' ya know tha' me and ya momma do, tha's kinda . . . tha's kinda somethin' I don' wanna think 'bout." He told him and the grin immediately disappeared from Ethan's face, only to be replaced with a wide-eyed look of shock. His eyes flew onto Daryl's and Daryl glanced at him before grinning and rolling his eyes. "Oh come on, Ethan, I ain' ya momma – I ain' gonna bury ma head in the sand and pretend tha two of ya ain' hormone riddled teenagers 'cause tha's easier to do! Fuck tha'!" He laughed before giving a shrug. "Not-to-mention, tha' box of condoms I sneaked ya a few months ago, prolly didn' help matters much, either, so . . ."

"So, ya ain' mad at us?" He asked him, slowly, uncertainly, and Daryl shook his head.

"Nah, I got over it pretty damn quick after I put two and two together. Hell, tha men in our family ain' exactly known for bein' late bloomers, so tha' made me tha weird one. Done forgot when ma old man said he lost his - somewhere overseas when he was in the army, I think, and Merle lost his at twelve – don' ask to tell ya tha story, by the way, it'll scar ya for life! But truthfully, I kinda don' care as long as ya two don' make me and ya momma grandparents anytime soon, as well as ya eight month old brother and sister, an aunt and uncle!"

He glanced at Ethan when his son had fallen unnervingly silent at his words, only to see the slightly sick look on his face. He then heaved a sigh as he shook his head. Did all kids look the same way when their parents confronted them with the fact that they knew they were sexually active?

"Look, Ethan," He spoke, his voice uncustomarily gentle as he placed a calming hand on his shoulder. He continued when his son turned his nervous eyes onto him. "If this was ma ideal world, tha' two of ya would have waited until ya were older – next year when tha' both of ya turn sixteen at tha least! But I'm smart enough to know tha' this world is different and I know tha' ya could die at any moment and ya learn to cherish what ya have, and . . . fifteen ain' exactly a good number but I can settle with it. I jus' . . ." He heaved another sigh. "I jus' hope ya make good decisions and ya use tha brain in ya head tha ya momma spent nine months makin' for ya, instead of ya di -" He immediately stopped when he realized what word was about to fall from his lips and he coughed slightly before continuing: "Tha's why I did what ma old man did with me and jus' handed ya a box of condoms while silently sayin', 'Don' be fuckin' stupid!'. And I know tha's only a temporary solution 'cause everything's a limited resource right now, but . . ." He glanced at him while giving a half-shrug. "Ya a good, smart kid, Ethan and Wren's a pretty amazin' girl tha's become like ma daughter! And I jus' . . . I jus' don' wanna see ya guys get loaded down with more than ya need to right now, okay, and tha' especially includes a baby! So again – use ya head and know tha' pullin' out don' always work and I swear to God ya little dipshit, tha' if ya come to me one day and say: 'Deddy, I didn' know she could pregnant when she was on top 'cause of gravity!' I'm gonna feed ya to tha walkers, maself!"

Ethan immediately let out a full-bellied laugh at that before he shook his head in disbelief. "Oh come on deddy, I ain't that stupid! Common sense would tell ya that's bullshit!" He laughed and Daryl shrugged, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips again.

"Hey, ya never know – I've heard plenty of stupid shit in ma day. It is awesome to know tha' ma kid does have a brain in his head after all, though!"

"Does momma know?" He asked, changing the subject, and as his voice came out sounding a little sick. Daryl let out a bark of a laugh and frantically shook his head.

"Oh Hell no – I ain' tha' stupid and I like ma balls swingin' where they are, thank ya very much! Tess would flip her damn lid six ways from Sunday and then proceed to shit enough bricks to make a house! But she's a mother, though, and if it was up to her, tha' two of ya wouldn' be havin' sex 'till tha both of ya reached the age when we first had sex 'cause then after tha', it'd be hypocritical. But me, I'm a man – I know how men think, includin' teenage boys, 'cause let's face it: men remain teenage boys all their lives! I know tha' at ya age, tha' best thing ya can do as a parent, is jus' make sure tha' they know what they're doin' and tha' they're safe!" Ethan nodded and looked away.

"Thanks, by the way . . ." He told him quietly, his voice trailing off and Daryl nodded.

"Ya welcome. I'm jus' tryin' to be a good dad."

Ethan grinned. "What are ya talkin' 'bout – ya tha best dad I could ever have wished for!"

Daryl continued to grin, although he couldn't help but feel his chest puff out a little bit at the comment. He knew damn good and well that Sam couldn't testify the same thing. "Tha's not what ya said when we first met." He reminded him and Ethan shook his head.

"Yeah, well, I was stupid back then." He muttered and Daryl gave a little laugh.

"Don' kid yaself, Ethan - ya still incredibly stupid; it comes with the territory of being young . . ."

He trailed off when they found themselves coming up on a ramshackle, corrugated iron building that looked vaguely like a garage or a gas station. Daryl slowed to a stop in front of a fallen over tree, Ethan stopping beside him. Martin's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he moved to join them.

"You see something?" He asked him and Daryl nodded as he handed his crossbow off to Ethan.

"Yeah, maybe – here, help me with this . . ."

Martin nodded as the two of them grasped a handful of branches and pulled, revealing the clear Plexiglas windshield of a van sitting underneath the collapsed tree. The tree had hit the roof of the structure beside it, which kept it from crushing it. In fact, it was in damn near perfect shape.

Daryl nodded as he took back his crossbow. The others had joined them by then, Sam doing well to give him as wide a berth as possible, and Daryl glanced at them. "Keep pullin' off the branches – Ethan, come with me."

They nodded as Ethan and Daryl moved towards the driver and passenger seats. "Ever wanted to learn how to hotwire an automatic?" He asked him and Ethan immediately broke out into a grin - a grin that told Daryl he was about to earn even more points in the 'Awesome Dad' category.

"Are you serious?"

"Couldn' fuckin' hurt. Ya never know when ya might need to in this day and age . . ."

He had gotten open the plastic covering underneath the steering wheel by then, and was reaching into the dark space, where he pulled out a big clump of wires like a walker would guts from a stomach. "Now, don' kid yaself - hotwirin' a car is pretty damn dangerous. Now, ya take these two wires, here, ya see?" He began as he picked up a red wire and a black wire. Ethan nodded as he kept his eyes on what his father was doing, listening intently. "Then ya rub tha metal strips together – hopin' a spark catches 'tween 'em . . ." He trailed off and tried it for a minute, eventually heaving a sigh when nothing happened and he tossed them down in irritation. "If a spark catches, it starts tha car. But tha battery's dead, so shit."

"What about a stick?" He asked and Daryl nodded.

"They're a little bit different – I'll have to show ya how to do them on tha Jeep when we get back to the prison." He told him and Ethan nodded as they ducked out of the car and moved to stand with the others. "We gotta find us a new battery . . ." He told them and a look of irritation and exhaustion swept across Michonne's face as hands slamming against the nearby dusty window had them all jumping in alarm. Daryl's mouth thinned as he pursed his lips. "It looks like we have friends inside. Come on – we'll clear a path to get inside so we can look for tha' battery. We ain' gettin' out of here til we find it." He told them as he led them to the front of the building and began pulling off the branches and ivy that had become so overgrown to the point to where they covered the entrance for a good two to three feet. The others took out their knives and machetes – Michonne, her sword – and began hacking.

Ethan, who had found himself buried in his thoughts as he hacked and pulled away the branches and ivy, was brought back down into reality when Daryl's voice came from beside him and which was directed primarily towards Tyrese hacking a little more roughly than was needed. "Hey man, take it easy, won' ya? We don' know what we're dealin' with . . ."

Ethan couldn't help but silently agree with his father and even went so far as to recognize the spark of uncertainty that sounded in his head as he stood there and watched Tyrese hack into the branches. Was that . . . could he hear rustling . . .?

After a moment, Tyrese must have gotten his machete hooked on something, because after a good few yanks, he stumbled backwards when whatever it had been, finally gave. Wires clung to the pointed edge of his machete and he quickly unwrapped them as the rest of them went back to their hacking. Now Ethan was sure he heard rustling in the branches and when he turned his eyes onto Daryl to see if he heard them too, he knew from the ever-so-slight look of concentration in his eyes, that he had.

"Hey, hey, Tyrese, stop for a moment, will ya? I think I heard something -"

Ethan was suddenly interrupted by snarling walkers appearing out of the brush like a damn Wac-A-Mole game. Ethan, Sam and Michonne jumped out of the way just in time as one of them latched onto Martin while another grasped Tyrese's arms. The last one had a firm handhold of Daryl's vest and Michonne quickly severed the hand of the walker holding Daryl as Ethan slammed his knife into its head. They then moved on to rescue Martin and just had him freed, right when Tyrese fell back, the walker that had a hold on him, promptly falling on top of him. Daryl yanked him off him and Martin immediately stepped forward to put a bullet through his head. Daryl helped him to his feet and Michonne immediately stepped up to him.

"Why the Hell didn't you let go?" She demanded and Tyrese, chest heaving, simply gazed at her before stalking off.

"Hey, honey, how you feeling?"

The little boy lying dwarfed in the covers that covered one of the couches in one of the administrative offices a few rooms down from the one she shared with the twins and Wren, smiled a small, weak smile, as well as his older brother who sat a little ways away from them. "I'm fine, Mrs. Tess."

"No aches and pains – no coughing?" She asked and he shook his head.

"Nope. My stomach just really hurts." He answered and she looked towards his brother in confirmation. He nodded.

"He's right. He hasn't been coughing, but he's been throwing up a lot. That and he's . . . using the bathroom a lot too." He told him and Tessa nodded sagely.

"Don't worry then, it's not the virus. He must have got a spot of food poisoning from something he ate, that's all. I know a couple of people that's happened to over the last few weeks. Make sure he drinks a lot – keeps his fluids up and make sure he gets plenty of rest. He should be fine by tomorrow morning or the day after with a few good night's rest." She told him before smiling a small smile, where she smoothed his hair out of his eyes. She meant it as a calming gesture but it was also something else - a way to subtly check for other symptoms. She let out a breath of relief when she didn't find anything. He wasn't feverish – just a little food poisoning. "You're going to be fine, Mikey, okay?" She told him and he nodded and gave her another small smile.

"Thanks for checking on me, Mrs. Tess." He told her and she smiled and nodded as she leaned over and pressed a kiss to his forehead before getting to her feet. His brother followed her to the door and he gave her a thankful smile as well.

"Thanks, Tess. It means a lot to us, you coming down here." She smiled and nodded.

"That's what I'm here for, isn't it, Travis? To watch over everyone cause Hershel or Dr. S can't?" She asked and he nodded as they exchanged goodbyes before she allowed him to duck back into the office to continued tending his little brother. She stood there and heaved a weary sigh, her hand flying to her head. She closed her eyes and tried not to allow the dizziness she felt, overtake her. She opened them when she heard the thud of boot-heels on the floor coming towards her, and smiled when she saw Maggie heading towards her, towels, body soap and shampoo in her hands.

"The twins have gotten their bath and Wren is feeding them now. I brought these for you – thought you might want to take a shower too." She told her when she had crossed the distance between them, and Tessa gave her a relieved smile.

"Thanks – your right, I do! I feel like Daryl after an all-day hunting spree!" She told her with a laugh and Maggie smiled and wrinkled her nose up.

"Yeah, that's pretty rank – you might wanna go." She joked and Tessa smiled and nodded as she headed down the corridors towards the administrative showers, Maggie walking beside her. "How was Mikey?"

"Oh he was fine. He's got a little food poisoning, but that seems the extent of it. He's not feverish, he's not achy – he's just . . . throwing up and using the bathroom a lot, if you get my meaning." Maggie nodded.

"That's what I thought, but me and Travis wanted to make sure. We don't want the virus ending up in here in someway. That's the last thing daddy needs." Tessa nodded in agreement.

"Oh, I know. I like my little freedoms here – I don't relish going into absolute quarantine in that office until Daryl and the others get back."

Maggie nodded. "By the way, Carol and Rick are going out on a run, so its just going to be me, you and Carl to hold down the fort." She told her and Tessa's eyebrows furrowed in slight interest.

"Is that . . . is that wise right now?" She asked her and Maggie shrugged her shoulders in indifference, although Tessa could see in her eyes that she had her doubts too.

"Rick seemed pretty adamant about it and I . . . I didn't feel like refuting him, you know?" Tessa nodded.

"Yeah, I know what you mean." She answered her quietly as they reached the door to the bathroom. "What are you doing now?"

"Gonna go take watch. Someone has to do it and it . . . it takes my mind off of things." She told her and Tessa nodded as she placed a hand on her shoulder, where she smiled comfortingly.

"Things are going to be alright, Maggie. There is always a light at the end of the tunnel, remember that." She told her and Maggie nodded, heaving a sigh as she did so.

"I hope your right, Tess," She told her before smiling. "Enjoy your shower."

Tessa smiled and nodded as the younger woman turned around and headed for the doorway leading to the outside world. She then turned and headed through the door leading to the showers, closing it gently behind her. She placed her towels on a nearby slightly dusty chair before moving into one of the little darkened cubicles, where she cut on the water. She stepped out of the way just in the nick of time and held out her hand to feel the temperature of the water. It came out lukewarm - not exactly as hot as she would have desired, but then again not exactly cold enough as to where taking a shower would almost be downright impossible.

Heaving another sigh, she unclipped her hair, shaking out her vast wealth of ebony colored curls before placing the clip on the shower's linoleum wall. She then pulled off her clothes, throwing them into a pile beside the pile of towels sitting on the chair. She picked up a wash cloth and the bottles of shampoo and body wash, before stepping underneath the spray. She shivered for a moment but quickly grew used to the temperature as she ducked underneath it, her hands smoothing over her slicked back hair as she closed her eyes.

She washed and rinsed her hair, relishing in the scent of apples as it filled the air around her, and it wasn't until she bent down to pick up the bottle of body wash at her feet, that she noticed the blood flooding the linoleum floor of the shower around her feet. At first, she didn't know where the blood was coming from, until she looked further down and saw it running down the insides of her thighs along with the water that cascaded down her body as well.

"What the fuck . . .?" She murmured to herself, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. It wasn't her wrong time of the month and as far as she knew, she hadn't sustained an injury of any sort, so why the Hell could she be bleeding?

Unless . . .

Tessa's eyes grew wide with shock and immediately began shaking her head. Her hands flew between her legs and when she brought them back into view, she found them covered in watered down blood. "Oh no . . . oh no, fuck no – that's impossible!"

It was then, as she squatted there, struck dumb with disbelief, that the massive pain originating in her stomach, hit her with the speed of a Mach truck. Immediately, she crumpled in on herself, her eyes squeezing shut with pain as she folded her arms across her stomach and rocked herself back and forth on her heels, trying to will the pain away.

What. The fuck?

"You . . . have got to be fuckin' kidding me!" She hissed as more and more blood seemed to flood from between her legs, accompanied by another sharp, almost crippling pain in her lower stomach.

No . . . no, I can't be having one . . .not another one!

Not with Daryl's . . .