Chapter 16 - Nearly

Even though Daryl had told her that he'd have left to go hunting by the time she woke, Tahlia was still mildly surprised when she peered over the bunk to see his bed was empty, surprised at how quiet he must have been to not wake her.

Heading outside into the fresh, clear, peaceful morning, warm with birdsong and whispered breeze, she could hardly believe that this was the same place she'd been so afraid of last night because now she only felt serenity.

With the grass under her bare feet, she moved through a slow yoga flow, then she donned her shoes for a walk through the surrounding woods (not too far though, because she was actually still scared of getting lost). And eventually, a freshly brewed pot of coffee by her side, she sprawled on a camp chair with the sun on her skin and a big pile of work-related reading on her lap.

It was nearing late morning when Tahlia caught sight of a dirt-stained and sweaty Daryl trudging back up to the cabin, face reddened with exertion and a young buck slung over his shoulders.

Tahlia's eyes widened, staring at him as he approached.

"Oh. My. God."

Close enough to hear her, he squinted over, a smug smile on his face.

"Thought I'd come back empty-handed, huh?"

"Um… yep. Yeah, that's exactly what I thought." Tahlia quickly lied. After seeing him in action the day before, she had no doubt that whatever he decided to hunt would have no chance evading him, so that's not what had her all open-mouthed. No, weirdly, it was the sight of the rugged hunter emerging from the wilderness carrying a dead thing to feed his tribe, that had caused some ancient, primitive part of her DNA to flare up with desire and an urge to drag him into their cave and rip their loincloths off and make cavebabies.

That sudden graphic image had her laughing and dropping her face into her hands, and as Daryl heaved the buck onto the tarp he'd laid out on the truck bed, he glanced curiously at her over his shoulder.

"What's so funny?"

She could not tell him that. So she shook her head and stood up, heading over to him. "I think all this fresh air is making me delirious."

Nodding in acceptance, he then asked, "You alright here by yourself?"

"Yeah, fine. The morning's been lovely."

"Anyone come by and try slaughter you?"

Tahlia poked her tongue out at him. "Not yet. But that could still happen."

"Well, lucky for you I'm back now to protect your scaredy-cat ass."

Ooh, that primal spark again. Forcing herself to tear her eyes away from Daryl, she focused on the deer instead.

"You going to have to gut that now?"

"Already done it. Just tied it shut to carry it back." He indicated the string holding the animal's belly together, before cutting it loose. "Now gonna open it up, wanna cool it down as much as possible."

Using several clean sticks, Daryl propped the buck's abdomen open while Tahlia watched in morbid fascination.

"That'll do." he asserted, wiping his hands on his pants, then turned to her. "Friend of mine is a butcher, so I'ma take this to him. Skin it, hang it. We don't got much room in our freezer so he stores whatever we can't fit, too." Then he indicated his dirty clothes. "I'll go clean up." Again, something he probably wouldn't have bothered to do, but he found that he was much more conscious about his cleanliness when Tahlia was around. Didn't want to give her a reason to not let him close.

After Daryl had washed up and changed, he paused by the cabin door for a moment to watch Tahlia who had laid out a tray of food on the folding table in the yard and was carefully pouring coffee into mugs from the pot she'd brewed over the camp stove. His belly tightened and tugged with longing at the sight of her, and he was almost weary with it all, this unfamiliar weight of feeling.

Catching sight of him as she stood up, she smiled warmly and made her way over, and he nodded his thanks as she handed him a steaming mug.

"Found this for ya." he said, fishing a fist-sized rock out of his pocket, brown and bumpy on one side which graduated to translucent purple crystals on the other. "Amethyst."

"You found this out there?!" exclaimed Tahlia in wonder as she turned it over in her hands. "It's beautiful!"

"Kinda rough. Want me to polish it up for ya? Shadow's got all the stuff to do that."

"No." replied Tahlia softly, her face radiant as she gazed up at him. "I like it just the way it is."

They dragged their heels in the pack up of the cabin, neither wanting to leave, but with a carcass on the back of Daryl's truck that needed attention, soon they had no choice but to get back on the road.

It was early afternoon when Daryl pulled up outside the apartment, and he killed the engine before jumping straight out to collect Tahlia's bag off the back of the truck, a half-formed, vague idea in his head. Less of an idea and more of an urge, really. An urge intensified by the fact that he just didn't want to let her go.

He handed her the pack, nerves beginning to flutter inside him. "Walk ya to your door."

She gave him a funny look because her door was just a stone's throw away, but she was hardly going to argue, and instead shrugged and started up the path.

"So!" she said with a grin, "I'd say that now I know everything there is to know about surviving in the wilderness, right? Maybe I'll even get my own tv show. Move over Bear Grylls!"

"Oh yeah," chuckled Daryl. "That guy ain't got nothin' on you. You made it through a whole mornin' out there on your own with only a cabin for shelter and a bag of groceries to keep you goin'."

Laughing, Tahlia elbowed him, then gave a happy sigh as they reached the apartment's outer door. "I had a really nice time, so thank you for putting up with me."

"Was easy." Daryl said softly, then took a step towards her, towards the opportunity, and reached for her hand, drawing his thumb lightly across her knuckles. "Like hangin' out with ya."

And Tahlia wasn't surprised that her pulse quickened and her breath quivered, because, Daryl; but the fact that he was still holding her hand and holding her gaze, his own inscrutable and fathomless, really wasn't helping matters.

"Do you…" she paused, swallowed, "Do you want to come up?" And then she winced because what a dumb, desperate thing to say – they'd just spent the weekend together and he was dropping her home because that part was over now and he had other things he needed to do and he wouldn't possibly want to–

"Yeah." Daryl's voice cut through her thoughts. "Yeah, I do."

"Oh!" Blinking in surprise, Tahlia then nudged her head at the truck. "What about… dead thing?"

The corner of Daryl's lip twitched, his eyes still locked on hers. "Dead thing can wait a little longer."

And then Tahlia suddenly felt light-headed because maybe he just meant he'd come up for a glass of water, but maybe he had meant more than that, and maybe this skin flaming charge she felt between them right now wasn't one-sided and maybe… maybe.

"Ok." she said, her voice a little choked with anticipation as she reluctantly broke Daryl's grip so she could punch in the code on the keypad. "Ok."

Then sounded a sweet little high-pitched calling of her name.

Glancing over her shoulder, Tahlia saw a blonde curly-headed child bounding up the path towards her, poufy skirt bouncing, fairy wings flapping.

"Evie!" smiled Tahlia, crouching down to hug the girl who had enthusiastically thrown herself into Tahlia's arms. "Hi, honey."

Evie grinned as Tahlia stood up, and pointed to her mouth. "I lost a tooth! And the tooth fairy gave me $10!"

"That was all the tooth fairy had in her wallet." drily supplied the grey-haired woman who'd just joined them, then moved in to embrace Tahlia. "Hi, dear. How you doing?"

"I'm great, thanks El. Daryl, this is Eleanor who lives just here below us, and her granddaughter Evie."

"I'm not Evie, I'm Fairy Sparkles, and I'm five and a half!" stated Evie defiantly as Daryl gave Eleanor's hand a diffident shake.

"Nice to meet you, Daryl." smiled Eleanor warmly. "I think I've seen you around here before. Got a motorbike, don't you?"

Daryl's cheeks turned apple-red because he felt like Eleanor was wise and perceptive and could see right through him to where his thoughts were Tahlia-tangled; to where his heart beat a wild rhythm for her; she could see right through him, and she knew.

He swallowed hard and nodded. "Uh, yeah. I got a bike."

"Well," said Eleanor, soft but firm, "This girl is very special. You make sure you're careful with her."

And Daryl knew that she didn't mean on the bike. Luckily for him, Tahlia's attention was mostly commanded by Evie who was excitedly filling her in on their walk around the park and the ducks and the flowers and the troll under the bridge (who, whispered Evie, wasn't real, so don't be scared).

"And!" declared the girl, "Me and Gran baked cupcakes and I decorated them all by myself and we're going to have a tea party now and eat them! Gran! Can Tahly come to our tea party? Tahly, can you come?"

"Sugar," Eleanor said gently, "Tahlia's busy. We can save a cupcake for her, darling."

"But I want to show her my certificate from school and my new Barbie and my unicorn t-shirt!" wailed Evie, her eyes filling with tears. "Daddy's going to come and get me soon and I'll never see Tahly again!"

"Poppet!" chuckled Tahlia kindly, catching hold of Evie's hand. "Of course you'll see me again. I live right here next to Gran."

"I want you to have a cupcake with me." Evie pouted, and Tahlia melted a little and Daryl saw it happening, saw how she was torn.

He knew what he had to do, and a spiral of disappointment sank through his gut, but, he decided, better him feeling that than a five-year-old, and he dropped down on one knee next to Evie. "I'm just leavin', so I think Tahly might be free to come to your tea party, sweetheart."

Evie frowned at him. "You could probably have a cupcake, too." she muttered begrudgingly. "I guess."

"Normally, I'd love one, but see, thing is," said Daryl, his voice low and conspiratorial, "I gotta go coz I been summoned on official magical business for the Fairy King, and don't ask me what, coz I can't tell ya. It's top secret."

Evie's eyes grew saucer-wide as Daryl stood up, and Tahlia gave a quiet groan because she did not need to know that he could be any lovelier, and then he brushed a hand against her waist.

"Catch ya in the week."

Then he nodded goodbye to Eleanor and winked at Evie and strolled off to his truck and Tahlia was all at once bereft and full to bursting on account of that goddamned Dixon.

Daryl didn't make it home for another three hours, by which time Merle was already back, lazing on the sofa with a beer in hand and a motorbike magazine on his lap.

"Hey. How was it?" Daryl greeted him as he came in, still all buzzed and electric from the nearly with Tahlia, from the anticipation of what might unfold the next time he saw her. "With Andie's family?"

"Real good. They loved me." Merle bragged breezily, taking a swig of his beer, his eyes tracking Daryl as he headed to the kitchen sink to wash his hands. "Dropped Andie home just before. Had a real nice chat with Tahly."

At that, Daryl tensed, his good mood draining away at the edge in his brother's tone, and glanced warily over his shoulder.

"That's right," Merle continued, "And she told me how the two of you spent the weekend up at the cabin."

Daryl dried his hands, then turned to face Merle, leaning his back against the counter and crossing his arms defensively. "Yeah? So?"

"So?!" exclaimed Merle with a sardonic scoff. "So, that's the most effort you ever put in, huh, baby brother?"

"'Chu talkin' 'bout?"

"For a fuck. Ain't never known you to go to so much trouble for some cooze. Was she worth it? Hope so, for your sake, seen as you locked yourself in for a whole weekend."

"Fuck off." growled Daryl, narrowing his eyes.

"She a screamer? Or she lay there all meek and quiet? Don't matter to you, I guess," goaded Merle, lips curled, a mean glint in his eye. "You had a hard-on for her since way back, so bet it was damn satisfyin' to scratch that itch and empty out your blue balls in that little pussy of hers, huh?"

"Shut the fuck up, Merle! Don't fuckin' talk 'bout her like that!"

Merle slammed his beer on the floor, the liquid bubbling out onto the carpet as he sat up straight and pointed a finger at Daryl. "I should kick your damn ass right now, Darlina. Better gimme a real good reason not to. Coz you know she don't do casual and she don't do nothin' without feelin's but you don't got no respect for that, you take her away and do your one night thing and screw her anyways."

Daryl scowled at Merle. "Ain't done that."

"All you give a fuck about is gettin' your dick wet and – "

"Ain't fucked her, you asshole!" yelled Daryl, banging his palm on the counter. "Ain't done nothin' with her, so quit runnin' your damn mouth!"

"Bullshit! Want me to believe you had her alone all weekend and you ain't made no move?"

Trembling with anger, Daryl clenched his fists and shouted right back. "None of your damn business, but that's the truth."

For a fraught moment, they glared fiercely at one another, then abruptly, Merle dropped his hackles and threw himself back onto the sofa.

"Good." He nodded casually as he picked up his magazine. "Make sure ya don't."

"Huh?" said Daryl stupidly, thrown by his brother's sudden deflation.

"Don't fuck her." replied Merle calmly, studying the picture of the motorbike in front of him. "Don't do nothin' with her. Not her."

"Piss off." snapped Daryl and stormed out onto the porch. He paced back and forth, his thoughts angry wasps buzzing in his head, impossible to grab onto a single one except the fury directed at his brother for saying all of that, for having the gall, the fucking gall to –

Daryl stormed straight back in.

"What's it to you anyways?" he demanded fiercely. "You ain't never given a shit where I get it from before! Why you suddenly wanna weigh in?"

With his eyes still on the article he was reading, Merle said lightly, "Coz it's Tahly. I like her and I don't wanna see her get fucked over by your poxy ass. Plus, she's my woman's best friend and if she's cryin' her eyes out 'bout my asshole brother, then I ain't never gonna hear the fuckin' end of it from Andie, and she's gonna be all pissed and she ain't gonna put out, and I don't need that shit. Things are good. Let's keep it that way."

Ignoring the last parts of Merle reproach, Daryl frowned. "What makes you think I'ma fuck her over?"

Still focused on the magazine, Merle chortled and flicked to the next page. "That's what you do to girls. Fuck 'em and drop 'em. All you ever done."

"I ain't gonna do that to her!" retorted Daryl indignantly.

"That's right, you ain't." agreed Merle, glancing up with a placid smile. "Coz you're gonna keep your dick away from her. Don't care where ya put it, long as it's not in her."

"Fuck YOU!" Daryl slammed his way back out onto the porch for a second time, and gritted his teeth as he kicked angrily at the leg of the lounger, then on a whim, he whirled around and strode back in to confront his brother again.

"What if this is different?"

"It ain't." replied Merle disinterestedly without looking up.

"What if it is?" insisted Daryl. "What if she's different?"

"She ain't."

"MERLE!"

With an impatient sigh, Merle laid the magazine on his chest and fixed his brother with a weary look. "She ain't different. She gonna be just another pussy to you. Maybe it don't feel like that right now, but that's how it is, coz that's who you are, and there ain't a single girl that's ever been more than a fuck to you, and this one ain't gonna be no different."

"Naw." Daryl shook his head tersely, distress churning in his belly, because, what if...? "Naw. You're wrong."

"I ain't. Think I don't know ya? Practically raised ya, baby brother. Know ya better than ya know yourself. And I been right here all these years watchin' what you're like. And it ain't a bad thing!" smirked Merle, raising his hands. "Ain't bad at all. Just your way. But you gotta pick the right girls to do your thing with, and she ain't it."

Daryl felt choked, strangled by the weeds of Merle's words. "But…" he managed hoarsely, "But I feel… she… I… I like her."

"Naw. Ya don't." Merle replied confidently with a pitiable smile, tucking one hand behind his head. "Don't blame ya for thinkin' so, but ya don't. Lemme explain it. Make it real easy for ya. Tahly's that sweet type, hugs out her feelin's, takes care of people, likes to make 'em feel good – all that shit we ain't never known much of, and that lights a little fire in your belly coz ain't many people give two shits 'bout a Dixon. 'Specially not ones that look like her. Now, instead of fuckin' her straight out like I know you wanted to, you went and got all friendly with her. Found out that there's a pretty little heart 'neath that pretty little face, and that's all brand new to you, brother, givin' a shit 'bout someone that you also wanna give it to."

In that moment, Daryl hated Merle. Hated him with a blood flaming passion, because everything he was saying rang true, clanging and hollow, but the way he said it, all high-pitched and patronizing, made it sound cheap, fake, like his relationship with Tahlia was all smoke and mirrors and his feelings were just a figment of his imagination. And now the speed at which his head was spinning was starting to make him feel sick.

"So," continued Merle, like he was just relaying facts as they were written to be, "Now you got this hot little friend, and you ain't never had that before, so your head's all fucked up, your wires are crossed thinkin' that maybe this could be some deep shit. Well, it ain't. If you fuck her, all of that's gonna disappear and then you ain't gonna feel nothin' at all, not a damn thing, and you ain't even gonna be able to be friends with her no more. Everythin's gonna be gone, just like that."

Throat tight, chest burning, Daryl could only manage to shake his head, and Merle just shrugged.

"That's the truth. I know it. And I know that you ain't a complete asshole - you don't wanna hurt her. So you're gonna do the right thing and keep your hands off her. Ain't worth it anyways. We all got a nice little vibe goin' on the way it is, so don't go messin' that up for everyone. This is just your dick talkin'. You're just horny. Go fuck Amber."

In a swirl of anger and agitation and overwhelming confusion, Daryl burst out onto the porch for the final time that day and strode straight for his bike. He rode fast and reckless and tried to outrun the clutches of his brother's thorned words, but somewhere on the twisting, dusty backroads they caught up with him; scratched at him, sunk in and took root.