Chapter 8

"Alright kiddo, time to get up and get walking around. Doctor says he'd like you to start some physical therapy. Gotta start using those muscles, get your strength back up so you can get out of here." The nurse had brown eyes and curly brown hair. She spoke with a bright and even tone. He remembered her coming in throughout this ordeal, always kind, always caring.

"I'm fine. Just undo this shit from my arms and I can walk right outta here." Daryl spouted back in return.

"Well, I'm glad you're feeling better. We have to keep those IV lines in you. This one, this is your antibiotic, it fights the infections in your body, and this one is the pain medication. Both are imperative to your healing." She smiled, removing the empty IV fluid bag and the now empty second antibiotic.

"How the hell am I supposed to walk around then?" He scowled, looking at the line that ran into his vein.

"See that post there beside you. You will roll it along with you." She handed him two pills and a small paper cup of water.

He eyed her hand but made no move to take the cup. She stood quietly with her hand out to him.

"Ain't taken no pills." He turned his head away from the nurse. It made him nervous when she didn't respond, just kept her hand extended out. He felt the anger build inside him, feeling like his insides were squeezing tight.

The hand remained, the room stayed silent. His body began to tremble again which made his anger rise further. "I ain't scared." He thought. So why is his body shaking again. Merle would slap him in the back of the head and tell him to stop being a pussy.

"Daryl." The nurse finally said, motioning for him to take the pills.

"Fuck you." He spouted, knocking the pills and the cup from her hand. She let out a yelp when the pills flew, one of surprise, not of pain. He crossed his arms across his chest and glowered.

"Mrs. Dawson, are you alright?" Daryl heard a man approaching, his foot falls coming quickly across the tile floor.

"I'm fine. He just surprised me is all." The nurse said, bending down to find the fallen pills. "That behavior won't be tolerated young man. Shame on you." She chided as she located both pills.

Daryl's scowl met her eyes. He didn't break eye contact with her as he stared silently in her direction. Arms still crossed. If he weren't so young, so frail in the bed, his stare and demeanor may make her fearful to return.

"I'm sorry. He's just….." Mr. Kindrick began to apologize to the water covered nurse. The water cup had flown directly into the front of her clothing. Wet patches covered the front of her shirt.

Mr. Kindrick glanced down at the angry child. He wasn't sure how to finish the sentence. The past few weeks Daryl had been so out of it due to the surgery's and the pain and the medication he'd been quiet and still for the most part.

Daryl continued staring down the nurse in front of him. She finally walked toward the exit. "I'll give him some time to calm down. Then I expect you to take your medications young man."

Daryl stuck up his middle finger, holding it out in her direction, the scowl on his face remaining.

"Well, I can see you are more alert today." Mr. Kindrick said, the boy settled back into his pillows, looking miserable.

Daryl turned his head away from his visitor. His eyes remained open as he stared at the window to his right side.

"Nice day out there today. Sunny, weather's warm. We are hoping you get to leave with us in a few days. Once they see you are able to get up and walk, and that you can use the bathroom on your own." Mr. Kindrick kept his voice light, this was the first day he'd visited that Daryl seemed fully awake.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here when you woke up. I had run home to have lunch with my wife and the boys. One of us has been here the whole time, hoping you wouldn't be frightened when you woke up." Mr. Kindrick sat in the chair next to the bed.

"Don't need you here." Daryl said plainly, keeping his head turned away from the man with the kind eyes.

"Well, I'm here." Mr. Kindrick's voice was quiet. "We'd like to get to know you a bit. We have your room all ready, but we realized we don't know much about you. I was gonna get you some posters and things for your walls. What sports team do you like? Do you have a favorite band or anything like that?

"Just go." Daryl said, his voice sounded weak.

Mr. Kindrick watched as Daryl's chin trembled slightly, heard a sharp intake of air. He saw him shift uncomfortable, the slightest movement causing discomfort.

"You in pain? I can call the nurse back in." He stood nervously, he walked to the bedside and just like he would his young boys he lay a comforting hand on the boys chest.

His body was wracked with pain. Breathing, keeping his eyes open, shifting his weight all caused pain. Then he felt a large hand lay across his chest. It felt like fire to Daryl, it felt like a crushing weight that meant to harm him, like a snake biting him. He flinched hard, rolling to the right to escape the hand. Doing so caused his broken ribs to send shockwaves throughout his entire body. Tears sprang to his eyes and the urge to urinate came over him quickly.

Mr. Kindrick pulled his hand away immediately. He was shocked by the instant response to touch. "I'm so sorry." he sputtered out.

A whimper escaped his mouth as his pain just increased from near unbearable to very unbearable. Tears filled his eyes, he forced them back blinking fiercely. He worked to calm his breathing and with it the pain started to settle around him. Another whimper, or maybe a groan escaped him again. Now he was embarrassed. This emotion combined with anger and his chest continued to feel the fire of the touch left behind.

"Mr. Kindrick, what happened?" A different nurse asked walking in quickly.

"He seemed in pain, I just meant to offer comfort, I lay my hand on his chest and he jumped. I'm sorry Daryl. Buddy, can you hear me?" His voice was high now and rushed.

Daryl brought his arm over his belly, putting pressure on the area in which her ribs were screaming in pain. His lip and chin now trembled, he worried he would cry in front of these people.

"This boy doesn't take to comfort Mr. Kindrick. He's a wild one." Nurse Andrew said, looking over him.

"Fuck you." Daryl breathed out toward both of them. His breaths now coming in small gasps, easing the pain coursing through him. He wiped his hands over his eyes in case any tears remained, then rubbed them down his face. Tiredness was overtaking him now. He felt his head fall to the left, his eyes closing almost instantly.

"Since he refused the pill form of his medication I gave him an injection. He'll sleep for a while now. That's what he needs anyway. I'm not sure you made the best decision to take this child into your home. He is a tyrant. He's insulted every staff member here, he lashes out in anger easily. If I were you I would withdraw my request and let him go to a boys home. It's where he'll end up anyway. Dixon's always do." Nurse Andrew said, disposing of the needle she held in the sharps bin, patting Mr. Kindricks arm and leaving the room.

It was night time when he started to stir again. Daryl could see his father in the door way. He stood there, holding either side of the door frame, his large chest moving up and down drawing in deep breaths. In his hand he held the strap, blood dripped from the end as he held it down at his side.

Daryl tried to shake his head no. He tried to speak up and tell his father he was sorry, that he understood, that the punishment could be over. His father stepped toward him, his eyes shining red in the darkness. He smiled, a smile too large for his face as he looked down at the broken and battered boy.

"You're a worthless little asshole just like your brother." His father's voice breathed above him. "Look at ya now. You're almost dead. Just take another stomp to end your life. How them ribs feel?" His father's laugh echoed around him now. He watched as his father's foot rose, hovering above him. Daryl tried to raise his arm to protect himself somehow. He started to beg, but knew that would only earn him another stomp for sure. "Nobody wanted you. Nobody. Never should'a been born. Should'a told Ole Merle to bury you out back with them other one's." The boot was on his cheek now, pressing his face to the floor. He could smell the blood beneath him. His blood."

Mr. Kindrick watched the boys face. His head moved slightly from side to side. His legs moved in the bed like he was trying to move away from the area. He whimpered, sweat appearing on his brow. He knew he was stuck in a dream, a nightmare of sorts. But touching him earlier had caused so much pain to both of them. Daryl had jerked like he was on fire and could have damaged his body further. Mr. Kindrick had realized the extent to which this boy was physically and emotionally damaged and felt very much unprepared and under trained to deal with something of this magnitude.

"Daryl." He said in hopes that maybe just a voice could pull him from this dream.

Instead, Daryl writhed in the bed. His eyes squeezed shut tight, his face contorted in pain.

His father had his boot on his face, pushing his cheek into the floor of the cabin. It felt like his cheekbone was breaking as his father pushed down harder and harder.

"Stop." Daryl whispered under the boot. He had to say something, but he feared that if heard it would only be worse. "Please." He breathed out. Begging was never successful, but he had to do something.

Mr. Kindrick hovered over the bed, repeating Daryl's name, but too afraid to touch him. The boy had tears now, leaking out of his closed eyes. He whimpered again, it looked like he was speaking but it was so quiet he couldn't be heard.

Daryl wished Merle was here. Merle would have stopped his father. He would have saved him, pulled him out of the house. They would have gone to the woods, found shelter and stayed there for as long as it took for his father to either leave the cabin on another drinking binge or that he was calmed down enough for them to try and share space again. He thought he heard Merle calling to him. It was faint, the voice not quite right, but who else would it be.

He couldn't just watch him lay there trapped in a nightmare. He reached out and rubbed the boys arm. "Daryl." He said more loudly.

"Merle." Daryl whispered. Everything hurt, he couldn't say it any louder, he couldn't breathe. The belt came down on his arm this time, his arm burned with the blow. He pulled it away hoping to avoid another lash to the same spot.

"Daryl, wake up." Mr. Kindrick said, this time shaking his shoulder slightly, hoping he didn't cause any further pain.

The belt hit his shoulder, pain bursting forward. Only, this time he heard his brother. He thought he heard him say wake up.

Mr. Kindrick rubbed his hand through Daryl's hair hopes to rouse him out of the dream.

Merle was squatted over him, looking down with his light blue eyes. Daryl gazed up at him, battered and bloody, it hurt to breathe. He wanted to speak, to reach out. Merles hand hovered above him, their father standing behind Merle, strap still hanging at his side. He heard the drip, drip, drip of blood hitting the dirty floor below him. "Help." He whispered. Merle's face contorted in rage and anger, his face melting away and once again becoming his father. His father gripped his hair hard then, "I'll snap your fucking neck." His father screamed as he pulled his head sideways, Daryl waited for the snap of bones, hoping the pain wouldn't be to horrible before death took him. He tried to scream, calling Merle back. He opened his mouth to release the sound…..

His eyes shot open. He worked his body to scramble to the edge of the bed. A man stood in front of him. His father? His body was in agony, he heard a sound, a low scream followed by a whimper. Each breath he sucked in was accentuated with a whimper as he took in his surroundings.

"It's okay." Mr. Kindrick said quietly. His heart broke for the boy who shrank away from him. He watched as his legs moved in the bed, his body sliding sideways away from him. He could see the wetness on his cheeks, the small whimpers like daggers in his heart. He didn't know that emotion could bring a physical pain response but his heart physically hurt watching this boy go through this in front of him.

Finally he started to calm. His body shuddered, the pain from the shuddering causing the whimper to remain, though he fought to stop the small sound of weakness that was emanating from him. He felt the tears drip down his chin, felt his lower lip tremble. He closed his eyes and willed himself to still. His father wasn't here, the threat not real.

"You can go." Daryl breathed out, his voice shaking like he was on the verge of sobbing. He sounded pitiful even to himself.

"It's okay buddy." Mr. Kindrick soothed. He wanted to badly to pull him to him in a protective hug so the boy would know he was safe and wouldn't be hurt anymore.

"Don't want you here." Daryl breathed out, angry that another man was seeing him in this position. Angry that people were calling him buddy, and sweetie and telling him it's okay. What was okay? Nothing's okay.

Mr. Kindrick backed away from the bed to give him some space. He sat down in the chair, leaning back against the wall, trying to make himself be out of sight. He put his fingers to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Daryl's breathing remained coming in small bursts. He watched the man sit down and cover his face. Part of him was glad he was here, though he didn't want to admit it. He was glad that it was this man and not his father in the room ready to snap his neck. Daryl worked hard to roll to his side, his back to the man in the chair. He worked on his breathing. One breath in, hold, one breath out. He heard the nurse enter, felt her adjust the IV in his arm. A warm feeling settled over him, then felt his eyes close. Sleep once again took him, only this time only darkness enveloped him, a dreamless sleep.