Hey guys.
Sorry for the cliff hanger at the end of the last chapter. But here we are! Back in the past. I ended up changing this chapter a lot more than I thought I would.
Hope you like it. If you did, consider leaving a comment.
Daryl was blind once more. The nothing he had experienced only twice before, still unnerved him. It was as if his eyes were closed and he had a blindfold on. That is until the shapes and colours started to appear. First blurry and then more solid. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the dark away quicker. He could already feel his stomach rolling.
Finally, he could see something. Trees. As his vision cleared, he spotted more and more of them. He was in the woods. That did not exactly tell him where he was though. He looked around trying to catch any kind of sign of where he could be. There was none. Just endless woods, it seemed.
As he took in his surroundings, he thought back to what had happened before he had arrived here. He'd disappeared right in front of Carol. He'd known it was about to happen but he'd hoped to at least give her some kind of explanation. He'd disappeared too quickly for even that. No doubt, the sight of him vanishing would have scared the shit out of her. There was nothing he could do about it now. He had to push on with his plans.
He lifted himself from the bike and grabbed his bow from where it was tethered to the back. His eyes scanned the ground. He spotted a few trails but they were clearly walker made. Nothing worth tracking.
Daryl glanced back at his bike and then at the straps of the backpack. Probably should hide them, he realised. It wouldn't end well if someone got a hold of the time machine. Nor would it be good if anyone pilfered his supplies. He walked his bike and laid it on the ground near some bushes. He tossed the backpack down beside it. Then he grabbed some fallen branches and leaves and piled them on top until they were concealed to his satisfaction.
Daryl brought his bow up once more and stalked through the woods. He kept his eyes on the forest floor for any signs of people. So far, there didn't seem to be anything but animal and walker tracks. As he walked further and further from the spot he'd arrived, he noticed something up ahead.
Tents.
He quickened his pace, keeping it light and quiet. Upon closer inspection, he recognized them. This was not the main camp. This was the smaller area where he and Merle had set up. They'd wanted to be as far from the main group as possible.
The thought of Merle caused his chest to tighten. He hadn't considered the fact that his brother would still be alive. He remembered the sight of Merle stumbling towards him, face covered in gore, eyes blank. He shook his head to clear the image. He would save him. Make sure things happened differently. He turned his attention back to the little campsite.
Along with the tent he and Merle shared, there were a few others. People who hadn't wanted to be part of the main camp. Carol was one of them. Well, her piece of shit husband had clearly been the one who'd made the decision and Carol had followed along with it dutifully. After Ed died, she'd taken a smaller tent from Dale for her and Sophia and moved into the main camp.
Daryl's ears pricked up as he heard a small cry. Then another. It seemed to be coming from one of the tents he had been staring at in contemplation. Daryl frowned, straining to hear better. He shuffled closer.
"Please, I'm sorry!"
His heart stuttered as he recognized the voice.
Carol.
She sounded so afraid and from her voice, he could tell she was crying.
"Shut up, you useless bitch!" came the scathing reply.
He recognized that voice too. Ed.
Daryl heard Carol let out another cry. His blood boiled as rage began to overtake him. That bastard was not going to get away with hurting her anymore. He stormed into the camp and approached the familiar tent.
Carol's cries were louder now that he was close. He could also hear the impact of flesh on flesh that was hauntingly familiar. He had heard it enough as a child when his daddy would beat him mama. His hands clenched around his bow. He shoved the flaps covering the opening of the tent aside. The sight that greeted him intensified his rage even further.
Carol was sobbing on the ground, clutching the sides of her shirt. It was ripped down the middle and she was trying to close it to cover the off-white bra she had underneath. There were clear bruises on her arms and face.
Ed stood over her with his fist raised, about to deliver another blow onto the innocent woman below him. However, Daryl's appearance on the scene had frozen him in place. Carol was staring at him with wide eyes too. She was looking at him as if he were a hallucination.
"Who the hell are-"Ed tried to say but Daryl was already slamming the stock of the crossbow into the side of his face.
Ed stumbled and fell to the ground. He coughed out a mouthful of blood onto the floor of the tent. He heard Carol gasp but Daryl didn't turn to look at her. He looped his bow over his head to rest on his back. He didn't need it to take care of this piece of shit.
Daryl dropped to the ground, moving to Ed. He rained down blows with his fists and felt his knuckles crack and tear open. The pain only spurred him onwards. He wasn't stopping until the son of a bitch was dead.
Ed's face had begun to blacken with bruises and swell in places. Blood was flowing freely from multiple wounds where his skin had exploded open. Daryl took in the sight with satisfaction. Ed had likely inflicted similar injuries on Carol over the years. On his part, Ed did not even try to fight back. All he did was weakly push out his arms and try to cover himself.
Daryl reached down, freeing one of his knives from his belt and brought it up, ready to deliver the killing blow. He wanted to torture him some more but he knew he needed to just do the world a favour and end the sick fuck already. Ed's eyes widened with terror.
"No! Stop!" he heard from behind him and there was a small hand wrapped around his arm.
Daryl turned his head and met Carol's tear-filled gaze.
"Please," she sobbed as she looked between the knife and her pathetic husband.
Part of him wanted to just do it. She might be protesting now but Carol had told him how much she had wished someone had killed Ed. How much she had wanted to kill him herself. Nevertheless, hearing her pleading voice hit him somewhere deep.
Daryl dropped his arm and replaced his knife into its sheath. He backed off the spluttering man beneath him. Carol scrambled on her hands and knees over to Ed and started trying to staunch the blood seeping from his wounds with her ruined shirt. He could hear her murmuring apologies to him.
Daryl had to remind himself that this was not his Carol. This Carol was terrified of the man she tended to and, obviously, feared the fallout of Daryl's intervention. He sighed and exited the tent. He started to walk back the way he came.
"Stop right there!" came a voice he never thought he would hear again.
Shane Walsh.
The former cop had his gun poised in front of him, pointed right at Daryl's head.
Well, this is just fucking great, Daryl thought to himself. Of all the people to run into, it had to be the most volatile of them all. He knew that Shane had not been so bad back here at the quarry. Nevertheless, he couldn't help remembering how he was at the farm. Picking fights, stirring up trouble, killing people. That man was still there below the surface, even now.
Daryl lifted his bow over his head and dropped it to the ground. He saw Shane glance at the knives on his belt and he sighed. Daryl reached down slowly and freed both from their sheaths before tossing them to the ground next to his bow. He raised his hands in front of him. Shane eyed him distrustfully, gun held firmly in place.
"Who the hell are you?" he asked in a no nonsense tone.
This wasn't going to go over well, Daryl knew. He supposed he could figure out a cover story. He might have done so if he hadn't been so preoccupied with rearranging Ed's face. As it was, he didn't have any story whatsoever. Which is why his reply was incredibly simple.
"Daryl."
Shane frowned, eyes searching him again.
Daryl could see the confusion building in Shane's expression.
"Daryl Dixon," he clarified, internally wincing as he always did when he had to mention his surname. It was just a constant reminder of the family he'd been born into. Shane's eyebrows flew upwards.
"You tryin' to be funny, man? I know Daryl Dixon. You ain't him."
However, even as Shane spoke, Daryl could see how he was second-guessing the statement. Daryl knew he looked wildly different from how he did at this time. His hair was longer for one thing and he'd filled out more. But his face was ultimately the same, albeit a touch older. Shane couldn't dispute that.
"Have a good look," Daryl invited, using one hand to push his hair back further, trying to help the former cop make the distinction.
Shane took a step forward. He squinted a little as he tilted his head.
"How the hell is this possible?" he asked. The question seemed to be directed more to himself than Daryl.
"Look, short version is, I'm Daryl Dixon from the future," Daryl explained, knowing how it sounded.
Shane leaned back.
"You expect me to believe that?" he said with a glare.
"I don't expect you to believe nothing. But it's the truth," Daryl replied, knowing he was fighting a losing battle.
Shane scoffed.
"Man, turn around and show me your hands."
Daryl sighed and turned. He felt Shane grab his wrists and felt the metal close around them. Handcuffs.
"Now, you cooperate and we won't have any problems, you got it?" Shane asked from behind him.
"Yeah, I got it."
Daryl didn't try to resist as Shane led him away through the campsite. As he was passing Carol's tent again, he found himself making eye contact with her. She was standing just at the entrance of the tent. There were still tears on her face but she was no longer crying. As Shane shoved him along, he could have sworn she'd given him a tiny smile.
Shane walked him all the way to the outskirts of camp. He unlocked one handcuff so he could arrange Daryl's arms behind him and around the base of a tree. Shane locked the handcuffs once more before stepping back.
"I'll be back in a little while and then we can talk some more," he said.
"You just gonna leave me out here with no weapons to defend myself?" Daryl asked, unable to help his glare at the man.
"You'll be fine. We ain't had no walkers pass through here in a good while," Shane replied, sounding sure of that.
Daryl huffed. He could only hope it was not the day that the herd busted into camp. That would definitely put a wrench in his plans. He watched Shane walk off, back towards the camp.
Daryl shifted, feeling the pull on his arms. The tree base was luckily on the smaller size compared to some of the others, so his arms weren't straining as much as they could be. Still, it wasn't comfortable. He could feel the metal of the cuffs digging into his wrists. He tried not to tug on them too much to avoid cutting his skin open.
Daryl didn't know how he was going to convince Shane that he was telling the truth. He had no evidence to offer the man. He couldn't exactly explain the science either. Not that he'd expect Shane to understand that any more than Daryl himself did. All he had was his face and his words. Which really left him down to his face because he was never good at the words part.
At some point, he ended up dozing off. He knew it had to be the time travelling effect. There's no way he'd fall asleep like that when he was so unguarded otherwise. He was woken by a hand roughly slapping him on the cheek. His eyes flew open and he tried to shoot to his feet but his arms pulled, reminding him of his situation.
"Good. You're awake," Shane commented with his hands on his hips. "So, let's try this again. Who are you?"
Daryl sighed.
"I told you. Daryl."
Daryl knew he couldn't really blame Shane for the confusion and hostility he was displaying. If this same thing happened to him, he'd likely have reacted similarly.
"You can't be. There's no way you're the same man," Shane argued, voice rising in volume. "Now, I'll admit, there's some resemblance there. So what is it? You a relative of his?"
Daryl sighed again. This was pointless. There's no way he was going to convince Shane he was from the future. If he just went along with it and said he was related to himself, maybe he could get out of this.
"Yeah," he replied grudgingly. "He's my brother. Him and Merle."
Shane narrowed his eyes.
"What the hell was that bull you were spouting about the future then?"
Daryl made himself shrug.
"Thought it might be funny. Freak my brothers out if they heard it. I've seen pictures of Daryl and I know he looks like me."
He forced himself to hold eye contact with Shane, knowing if his gaze faltered, he'd be found out as a liar.
"Jesus," Shane muttered. He glared at Daryl. "You know how stupid that is? I could have killed you, man?"
Daryl ducked his head as if he was feeling guilty for his actions.
"Sorry," he said, keeping it simple to not dig himself into a hole.
Shane sighed and shifted his stance. He eyed Daryl.
"So what's your real name?"
Fuck.
His real name. He didn't think of that. How the hell was he going to think of a name? He couldn't take long or Shane would know he was lying. His mind scrambled before he
remembered the tattoo over his heart.
"Norman," he answered finally. It was the name of his grandfather. One of the best men he'd ever known, his grandpa was. Taught him how to hunt and track. Certainly raised him better than his daddy ever did. Daryl had been devastated when Grandpa Norman died when he was fourteen.
"Norman Dixon?" Shane asked, for confirmation.
Daryl nodded.
Shane inclined his head. He brought a hand up and ran it through his hair.
Daryl shifted against the tree. He didn't know what was going to happen now. He was completely at Shane's mercy.
Shane eyed him again. He seemed to be considering him. Seeing if he was a threat.
"Look, I know you got no reason to trust me, but I ain't gonna hurt no one. I just came to find my brothers. Heard they headed out this way," Daryl told him, trying to help his
case. He didn't know why but the lies were coming easier now. Easier than they ever had for him.
Shane took his words in and seemed to roll them around in his head. After a long while of enduring Shane's stare, the man approached the tree. He ducked down and Daryl felt Shane's hands on his wrists. He heard a click and then his arms were released from their strained position. He sighed in relief and brought his hands around to the front. Shane stepped back in front of him.
"Look, I'm going out on a limb here, man. I got people in this camp to protect. So, you best believe that I'll be keeping an eye on you. You make one wrong move and I won't hesitate, you got it?" Shane said with conviction.
"I get it. It's a good thing you're lookin' out for these people. Don't blame you for being cautious," Daryl replied, trying to offer the man a compliment to calm him.
Shane's stance relaxed a touch. A moment later, he offered a hand to Daryl. Daryl eyed it with surprise before grasping it with his own. Shane helped him to his feet.
"Your brothers ain't here right now," Shane said when he was upright again. "Merle went on a run into the city and Daryl's out on a hunt."
Daryl already knew this, of course, but he nodded to Shane.
"Alright. Thanks."
Shane nodded and turned, looking ready to leave the scene.
"Hey," Daryl called to him. Shane paused and turned his head. "You got my bow and my knives?"
Shane hesitated and Daryl knew he was considering whether Daryl should have his weapons back.
"Up at the main camp there's an RV. Dropped them off there," Shane finally told him.
Daryl nodded, grateful that they hadn't been left in the middle of nowhere. Shane didn't wait around. He turned and walked off.
Daryl flexed his wrists and glanced down. They were red but thankfully, he hadn't broken the skin. He was still amazed that the lies he'd told had gone over so well with Shane. He guessed it was probably easier for the man to believe than the concept of time travel. Daryl started to walk in the direction Shane had gone. He needed to get his weapons back and start doing what he'd planned to do.
Watch over Carol and Sophia.
There you go.
How do you feel about Daryl having to pose as Norman lol?
I just decided there was no way Shane was going to believe he was from the future. I decided to say the 'Norman' tattoo on his chest refers to his grandfather. I've seen it used that way in other fics but I figured its something that works well.
To me, it's the only thing that makes sense for Daryl. To have a man's name on his chest. We know in reality it refers to Norman's own father but Daryl's father is out because he was an asshole. So, I figured, because Daryl's past is pretty ambiguous, grandfather would work nicely.
I hope you don't mind the changes I've made. If you've read the previous version of this, you know that in this chapter, Daryl speaks to Carol and Sophia. Don't worry. Those interactions will still happen. Just at a different point in time.
I hate to beg, but I'd love to hear what you guys think. Please consider leaving a comment.