Kiss Away My Sins - Chapter 21

I know this chapter is a little uneventful. Don't worry, things will pick up a great deal in the next chapter as we approach the climax. This story only has a few chapters left!

I don't own The Walking Dead.

Chapter Twenty-One

Daryl didn't see Ed until it was almost too late. He had been standing by the Greene's porch, grumbling to himself about Rick Grimes. Lori's so-called husband was already getting on his nerves. What right did he have to assume anything about Daryl's life? Honestly, he didn't know why he was so upset . . . maybe it was because he wished that Rick's assumption was true. Maybe it was because the comment brought Daryl back to the cruel reality of it all. Whatever it was, it made him lose his focus. Hell, he didn't even notice Ed exit the house and storm past him. He only noticed when he heard Carol shriek. He turned just in time to see Ed grab her upper arm and jerk her toward him.

"What the hell was that?" he snarled at her, but soft enough so the rest of the group – still a good distance away – didn't hear him. "I saw ya holdin' that hillbilly's hand!"

Daryl was already on his way to intervene when he saw his hand tighten around her arm. Carol bit her lip so hard it bled. It was clear that she was trying to keep in a scream. "Ed . . . please . . ." she whimpered.

"What?" Ed sneered. "Ya gonna beg me? Yer gonna have ta do a lot more than beg, bitch."

Daryl didn't even bother announcing himself. Instead, he just punched Ed in the back of the head as hard as he could. Carol let out a startled cry as her husband slumped toward her. Daryl immediately grabbed the man's shoulders pulled him back before he crushed his wife. Ed was unconscious before he even hit the ground. Daryl looked down at his unmoving body feeling rather pleased with himself. At least he finally got to hit the son of a bitch. He looked up to see Carol standing there, hugging herself and shaking violently. He saw that the rest of the group was watching the scene with wide, stunned eyes. Daryl ignored them and pulled the silver-haired woman into his arms. He held her there softly, his hands running soothingly up and down her back. Carol let out a half-strangled sob into his shoulder, burying her face into the fabric of his shirt. "Shh," he tried to soothe. "Tha fucker ain't gonna hurt ya . . . I ain't gonna let 'im, woman."

"What is goin' on out here?"

Daryl turned to see a man in his mid-seventies standing on the porch of the farmhouse. He wore a pair of dark brown pants, a white button-down, and a set of suspenders. He was clean-shaven, and his snow-white hair was combed back neatly. His hard eyes flew to Daryl, Carol, and the unconscious Ed. "I will not tolerate fighting on my farm! If any of you have issues with any of the others here, you can damn well take it somewhere else."

Feeling like a little kid that had been scolded, Daryl looked down and grudgingly nodded. The others slowly made their way over to them. Daryl could feel their eyes on him, and he knew they were wondering what exactly was going on. Merle reached him first, anger apparent on his face, but Daryl knew it wasn't directed at him. "What'd he do?" Merle growled so only Daryl and Carol could hear. He looked back and forth between the pair.

"Nothing," Carol replied quickly. Her one hand going to the arm he'd grabbed.

"He fuckin' tried ta break yer arm! Ya call that nothin'?!" Daryl snapped. When he saw hurt flash in her eyes, Daryl inwardly groaned. He seemed to be making all the wrong moves today when it came to Carol. Everythin' was fine until we got ta this fuckin' farm! he thought with indignation. He stared down at Ed's body, and resisted the urge to grab his knife. Should kill him now so he can't hurt 'er no more.

Merle shook his head, and looked at Daryl. "We can't stay here."

"I know."

"What?" Carol asked, sounding shell-shocked. "We just got here . . . and it seems like a nice place."

"Mouse," Merle said, his voice surprisingly soft. "Ya wanna stay in the same house as this guy? Ya want Lil' Darlin' ta be around 'im?"

Carol's shoulders slumped. "No . . . but . . . I don't want to go back out on the road either. And Sophia would pitch a fit if we tried to separate her from Carl."

Daryl narrowed his eyes. "Look, Carol . . . I care about ya," he said softly. He could feel Merle's hard, judgmental gaze on him, but ignored it. "I don't want ta see anythin' bad happen ta ya, or Sophia. I jus' . . . I want ya both ta be safe, and I don't think that this place is the best . . . I know it looks like somethin' ya'd see on a postcard, but it ain't right. I don't know what it is, but it ain't good. We should go."

"Where exactly?" Carol shot back. "We don't have a plan. We don't have anywhere to go. Let's just . . . try it here. We still have our stuff – our tents – we can stay in our own little camp away from the others. We don't have to go in the house. We don't have to be anywhere near Ed."

The Dixon brothers exchanged a glance. Daryl didn't like it. He didn't want to stay here, but he could see that Carol was adamant about it. However, the idea of having their own separate camp was doable. Not ideal, but doable at least. It was an option, and they didn't really have many of those.

"What d'ya think?" Daryl asked.

Merle's eyes narrowed slightly. "I'm wit' you, lil' brotha. I don't like it here but . . . if Mouse ain't budgin', she ain't budgin'. Might as well get the tents set up."

Daryl had to smirk as Merle walked away. Why did he feel like Merle was already more whipped than Daryl was?

As evening fell on the farm, Daryl, who was used to keeping to himself, was forced once again to spend time with people. Daryl never did have good people skills. Even when he was a child he had a hard time talking to other kids. The only one he could ever actually talk to was Merle, and even then it was just simple chitchat, and the older Dixon did most of the talking. Daryl usually just listened. And none of the conversations they shared were ever serious, or about their feelings. Merle thought that was too feminine for him to even think about.

With that being said, sitting in the Greene house at the dinner table was quite an awkward experience. After the little quarrel outside, Ed had been taken inside the Greene's house and was being looked after by a kind older woman named Patricia. Hershel Greene, the patriarch of the family, and clearly the boss of the farm had still invited the newcomers to dinner, even after the dispute in his backyard. The others had thanked him profusely, and, while Daryl didn't join them, he felt grateful. He hadn't sat down and eaten an actual mean in . . . hell, he couldn't even remember the last time he did that. He was also glad that Sophia and Carol would get to inside and eat a nice, home-cooked meal for the first time in a month or so.

Daryl was not sitting at the main table. Instead, he and Merle were at a separate, smaller table with Glenn and Hershel's eldest daughter, Maggie. Daryl had chosen the seat that allowed him to see the main table that also allowed him to keep an eye on Carol, who sat there with the others. Sophia was next to her chatting to a much happier Carl. The main table was hustling and bustling with happy conversation, as if the fight between Daryl and Ed in the yard hadn't happened. Maybe that was why Daryl was kept separate from the others – they were afraid he'd start a fight.

"So . . ." Merle said, trying to make conversation. "Ya took tha fucker down in one hit lil' brotha."

Daryl shot his older brother a stern glare, but the older Dixon brushed it off. He shoveled another piece of beef into his mouth and continued to talk while he chewed. "When he wakes up, he's gonna be mighty pissed."

"I'm bettin' on it," Daryl muttered.

"So . . . I take it you and Ed don't get along?" Maggie butted into the conversation. Daryl gazed at her warily. It was clear that the farm girl was testing the waters of the group and prying for information at the same time. She wanted to see who liked who, who disliked who, and so on.

"Naw, we don't." That was all Daryl said on the matter. And that would have been all that was said in general, if Merle hadn't opened up his big mouth.

"Tha fat fuck's beatin' on his wife – the lil' Mouse in there," he explained. "My brotha, an' I, we're lookin' after 'er and 'er daughter."

"Really?" Maggie said, sounding genuinely surprised. "That's mighty kind a' ya."

"Kind's our middle name," Merle boasted.

Daryl resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Maggie was young enough to his daughter for fuck's sake. Not to mention the fact that her father was the man that was kind enough to let them stay on his farm, and eat his food.

"Plus," Merle continued. "My brotha's sweet on her."

"Fuck you, Merle!" Daryl snarled under his breath to no one at the other table would hear. "Leave me outta yer little flirtations, huh? My love life ain't none a' their business."

Maggie was smiling. "Aww, you're actually kinda cute when yer embarrassed, Mr. Dixon."

Daryl let out a groan. This farm was going to kill him.

After dinner, Daryl, Carol, Sophia, and Merle all went outside to their little campsite about two hundred feet away from the farm house. Daryl knew that it would not be long before Ed woke up, and he was already making preparations. Carol and Sophia retired for the night shortly after they got to the campsite, but Daryl and Merle remained awake. "He'll be comin'," Merle commented for what had to be the millionth time. Daryl was beginning to find it slightly annoying, but he knew what he was doing. His brother was furtively inquiring as to whether Daryl was sure that he was prepared for what was about to ensue. He wanted to know if Daryl would be able to do what needed to be done when the time came.

"Yeah, I suppose he will." Daryl knew what he would have to do. Ed wasn't going to stop. The only way they'd be able to succeed is if they left the group all together, which neither Sophia or Carol found too appealing, or they could kill him. But killing Ed could potentially ruin their chances of staying at the farm. Daryl didn't care if they got kicked out, but he wasn't exactly eager to put the rest of the group out on the road because of something he had done.

"What are we gonna do?" Merle asked.

"Dunno . . . whatever happens, happens I guess."

Merle sucked his teeth. "I guess . . ." And then the older Dixon was silent for a long time. "Daryl . . ." he said quietly. This earned the younger brother's attention. Merle rarely referred to him by his real name. It was always "lil' brotha" or he didn't call him anything at all. "Look whatever happens . . . I got yer back."

Daryl smirked. "Okay . . . Ya gonna start growin' lady parts on me too?"
"Fuck you."

Daryl chuckled. "Thanks, man. I mean it . . . I really appreciate ya doin' that."

Merle nodded. "No problem."

A/N: Review?