A/N: When I had outlined this chapter I had envisioned a certain back story for Daryl, but then season three started and I had to change a couple of things to stay in canon. Hopefully any changes won't be too glaring.
"I can't believe it," Randall mumbled from the back seat of Daniel's truck. He leaned forward, invading Daryl's personal space as he tried to drive. "I mean geeks are one thing, but you never expect some Dirty Harry son of a bitch to just start firing on people." Daryl shifted slightly, tightening his grip on the steering wheel as the kid continued to ramble. "I'm thinking they must have wanted Dave and Tony's guns. Dave did have a nice one and he was always showing it off to people." Randall nodded to himself. "Yeah, that's probably what happened. I could see Dave doing that. Besides, I've seen people do crazier shit for less. Like the time I ran into this guy over at the 7-Eleven. He was crawling around on the floor with one of those…those….Hell, what do you call those things? You know the—"
"Would you shut the fuck up!" Daryl finally snapped, glaring up at him in the rear view mirror. "Jesus Christ, you haven't taken a breath since we got in the truck." Randall leaned back with a sour look on his face, having the good sense not to respond.
"You know this shit ain't gonna go over well," Nate said bitterly. Daryl glanced over at the man sitting in the seat beside him, having almost forgotten that he was there. Unlike Randall, he'd barely spoken a word since they'd left town. "Dave pretty much made all the decisions and Tony was the closest thing he had to a number two." Nate shook his head. "I still don't understand how this shit happened. I mean I know Tony wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but neither one of 'em was stupid. I just can't figure how they let those guys get the jump on 'em."
Randall leaned forward again, casting a tentative glance at Daryl. "All I know is that when I walked inside the guy just started shooting. First Dave and then Tony."
Nate rubbed his brow. "Fucking great," he muttered. "As if the damn geeks weren't bad enough, now we gotta worry about these assholes too."
Daryl knew Nate was right. They didn't know where these men were holed up. They didn't even know if they were alone or part of a larger group. They were killers—that's all they knew for sure.
"So how we gonna do this?" Randall asked, absently resting his arm across the back of Daryl's seat.
Daryl shot him a look in the rear view mirror. "Do what?" he almost growled as Randall's hand moved precariously close to Daryl's head. "You think we're all a buncha mind readers here?" The kid's ability to irritate him was growing by leaps and bounds.
"Tell the group," Randall frowned, shirking back in his seat. "I mean who's gonna do the talking and what are we gonna tell 'em."
Daryl didn't care what they told the rest of the group. The only one he was concerned about was Sarah. "I'm gonna tell Sarah. You guys can handle everybody else yourselves."
"You gonna tell her the truth?" Randall prodded—arms and other body parts situated securely in the back seat.
Daryl turned his head and squinted at him. "Why wouldn't I?"
Randall shrugged, barely making eye contact as he opened and closed the cup holder in the rear console. "I don't know. I just thought it might upset her more if she knew a random guy killed Daniel instead of some geek. I mean geeks you expect."
Daryl turned back in his seat, resting his arm on the side of the door. As much as he hated to admit it, the kid had a point. Maybe telling Sarah the truth wasn't in her best interest. He was just gonna give her another thing to worry about on top of everything else. Besides, walkers would be easier to explain. She would understand that. He took a long breath and exhaled….Shit, what was he thinking? Was he really gonna risk her finding out otherwise? She trusted him and he didn't want to screw that up. "I'm telling her the truth, so I suggest you guys do the same."
Neither Nate or Randall responded and Daryl took it that the decision had been made. He slid his hand down the side of the steering wheel and stared out at the road in front of him, grateful for the new found silence. He needed some time to think, to figure out how he was going to break the news to Sarah.
A couple of minutes later, he was pulling into the apartment building's parking lot. With everything that had happened in town they'd gotten back later than planned. It was dark now and the only light out was the little the moon offered. He parked the truck and pulled the keys out of the ignition, realizing for the first time he wouldn't be giving them back to Daniel. It was Sarah's truck now. He looked over at Nate and Randall. "Let's just grab what we need for tonight. The rest we can get in the morning."
Daryl reached over and grabbed his crossbow out of the back seat as Randall hopped out. Nate went around to the back of the pickup and climbed in the bed to retrieve the chain. Everything else could wait.
Randall headed out in front as Daryl and Nate followed, both men scanning the dimly lit area as best they could. The building was quiet and Daryl looked up to see that all the curtains had been drawn. Everybody must have been settling in for the night.
Randall opened the gate and when they reached the entrance they found Sean waiting inside the door. "I thought I heard you guys pull up," he said as the three men walked by him. "What the hell took you so long? I thought my ass was gonna fall asleep sitting here." He stuck his head back out of the door. "Where's Dave, Tony and Daniel? They still in the parking lot?"
Daryl looked over at Nate, waiting for him to start the explaining.
Sean's brow furrowed at the lack of response. "Oh shit!" he blurted out, his eyes moving from one man to the next. "Something happened, didn't it?"
Daryl took the question as his cue to leave. "I'm gonna head upstairs. You know where to find me." Nate gave him a reluctant nod and Daryl could suddenly feel the weight of the world on his shoulders. Everything was getting ready to change…for Sarah…for him. He took his time walking back to the apartment and after finally gathering himself together, he stepped inside. Sarah was standing on the balcony, her arms resting on the railing as she looked out at the yard. She turned in his direction, the smile she gave him cutting him to the bone. He was going to take that away from her—the smile and any bit of happiness she had left.
"Hey," she said as she stepped into the living room. The lantern flickered on the coffee table, warming her face, making her eyes light up. "You guys finally made it back. Did you find what you needed in town?"
He gave her a slight nod as she looked over his shoulder and back towards the door.
"Where's Daniel?" she asked as her eyes settled on his. "Is he still unloading the truck?" Daryl's hand began to sweat as he gripped the strap of his crossbow. He laid the weapon down on the kitchen table and glanced back up at her, knowing the answer was written all over his face. She got quiet for a moment. "He's at the truck, right? " she asked, her voice suddenly small.
"Sarah," he said as he moved towards her. "Something happened."
She began to back away from him, holding her hand between the two of them. "Don't say it. Don't you dare say it."
"Sarah, you gotta listen to me." He raised his own hand instinctively, as if he somehow needed to show he wasn't a threat.
She took another step away from him. "No, Daryl. Don't."
He moved closer, trying to take her by the arm to make her listen, but she wouldn't let him touch her. "You need to hear this from me and not somebody else…Daniel—"
Her eyes grew wide and even in the dim light of the room he could see her suddenly pale. She looked almost desperate, like an animal caught in a trap. "Please…just….stop," she pleaded.
He stood there, fixed, lost as to what to do. "I'm sorry," was all he could think to say.
Her lip began to tremble. "Not Daniel," she cried. "Please God, not Daniel." She started to sob, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.
He reached out to her again and despite her prior protests, pulled her to him. He could feel her entire body shaking as he helped her to the couch. He knelt down on the floor in front of her, looking around for something she could dry her eyes with.
He realized he must not have heard the knock on the door because he was surprised to see a woman walk inside the apartment. He recognized her. It was the woman he'd carried from the yard. Rachel, he thought her name was. She gave him a knowing look then went over to Sarah.
Daryl got out of the way, standing by the door as Rachel spoke to her. He couldn't hear what she was saying, but he knew it had to be better than whatever he could have come up with. He held no misconceived notions that he had any idea of how to handle a situation like this.
Rachel helped Sarah to her feet, walking her towards the bedroom. "It's going to be alright," he heard her say, the words resonating, triggering something in his mind as she moved past him. He sat down on the couch as it all come rushing back. The images in his head as clear as the day itself.
He was standing in the middle of the street again. Sirens blared around him, their high pitched whines drowning out the sounds of everything else. He rested his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. His friends Bobby and Wayne had beat him there, his legs no match for the brand new bikes they'd raced off on.
He looked up and saw them staring back at him, the excited looks on their faces no longer there…and he knew. It was his house the fire trucks had come for, his momma the one left inside.
He ran towards his yard, smoke clouding his eyes as he pushed past the crowd gathered in front. He could see it now, the rubble and ash—what used to be his home.
"This ain't the place for you son," he heard a familiar voice say. He turned to see Mr. Wilkins, from two doors down, the man he'd rake leaves and cut grass for. He took Daryl by the arm. "Come with me boy. Your daddy still ain't got back yet."
Daryl watched the firemen rushing back to their trucks as Mr. Wilkins led him down the street. Daryl could see the troubled faces looking back at him. They knew. They all knew.
Mrs. Wilkins was waiting by the door as he climbed the three steps to their house. She rubbed her hand down the back of his hair as she led him into the kitchen. "It's going to be alright," she assured him, sitting him down at the table by the window. He stared quietly at the plate of cookies she'd set out in front of him, listening to the sirens blaring in the distance…knowing it wasn't true.
It's going to be alright.
Two hours later, Daryl still hadn't moved as he stared down the hallway at Sarah's bedroom. Rachel was still with her and he hadn't seen or heard a word from either of them in that time. Finally, he saw the light go out under the door. Rachel stepped out a moment later. "She's finally sleeping," she told him as she walked into the living room.
Daryl nodded.
"How are you doing?" she asked, giving him a sympathetic look. "Are you hungry? I can try to scrounge up some dinner for you if you like. It's the least I can do, since I never really got a chance to thank you."
"Thanks, but I ain't exactly hungry."
She smiled at him. "Alright, I'm right across the hall if you change your mind."
A/N: Thank you for your reviews. They are greatly appreciated!
