A/N: This is proof that reviews lead to updates lolol. I had someone randomly leave a review on Black and it made me remember that it was still a story. So at her asking i took a look at my progress and realized i was nearly done with this chapter anyways? So i just finished the last bit and now here we are! Hopefully FF is actually working and this really posts lol
Episode #11:
Pack A Flare Gun for the Apocalypse
"This is my family. I found it. All on my own. It's little, and broken, but still good. Yeah, still good." —Stitch (Lilo & Stitch)
Daryl's eyes fluttered open and the bright sky was blinding. He blinked in hopes that the world wouldn't be quite as blurred as it currently was. Nothing helped him focus though. The world stayed blurry as he laid in the sand exhausted. It hurt to move so he tried to stay as still as possible, but every breath still had his chest ache with agony. The blinding light softened and suddenly there was a blurry figure hovering over him.
His jaw clenched and finally his eyes focused.
Victoria was here. Victoria stared down at him, worry painted over her features, but something wasn't right. She had on the same bloodied clothes as the day he met her. The same open wounds on her face, caked with dried blood. His mind wondered if she had on any shoes but couldn't bring himself to turn his head and look.
"Sunshine?" Daryl breathed. "You gotta…"
He couldn't push the words out. Victoria shouldn't be here. It wasn't safe. She wasn't safe. Suddenly, she smiled. Even through the haze of pain and confusion that fogged around him, the smile was warm. It was the smile she gave before the nightmares set in. Despite everything, it gave him comfort.
Daryl's eyes closed and when he opened them again Victoria was gone. Now someone new hovered over him and this face was familiar too. Blue eyes filled with amusement, a shaved head, and smirk that could curdle milk. Ain't no one else got a shit eating smirk quite like his brother's.
"Why don't you pull that arrow out, dummy?" Merle chuckled, "You can bind your wound better."
"Merle." Daryl's lip turned up in a slight smile.
Merle nudged him lightly, "What's going on here? You takin' a siesta or somethin'?"
Daryl groaned, "Havin' a shitty day, bro."
"Like me to get your pillow? Maybe rub your feet?"
"Screw you."
"You're the one screwed from the looks of it." Merle scoffed. He shook his head in disappointment, "All them years I spent tryin' to make a man outta you, this is what I get? Look at you." Merle spat at him. "Lyin' in the dirt like a used rubber. You're gonna die out here, brother, and for what?"
Daryl's voice was softer than he wanted it to be, but he couldn't gather the strength to speak firmer, "A little girl." He tried to clear his throat but groaned when his entire body was racked with pain. Daryl's throat was dry, and his head felt like it was filled with cotton. He tried to focus on something beyond his brother, but everything was still a blur. He sucked in a sharp breath and turned back to Merle, "They lost a little girl."
"So, you gotta thing for little girls now?" Merle laughed.
"Shut up." Daryl struggled to keep his eyes open.
"Course not." Merle laughed again, louder this time. A cruel, mocking tone ringing in his voice, "You just got a thing for your little sunshine." He made a kissing noise before continuing, "Hot ass like that, I'd have made a woman of her by now. What're you waitin' for, little brother?"
Daryl had known something was wrong when Victoria had suddenly disappeared only to be replaced by his brother. His brother being here didn't feel right in and of itself. Merle had been lost. Daryl hadn't found his brother yet. Now, Merle was talking about Victoria, albeit crudely, but he knew the two had never met. Thank God.
"Know what else I noticed?" Merle's voice came out in a growl now, "You ain't out lookin' for Merle no more."
Daryl scoffed, "Tried like hell to find you, bro."
"Like hell you did!" Merle roared. "You split, man! Lit out first chance you got!"
"You lit out." Daryl replied as firmly as he could. This wasn't his fault. Merle being gone was not his fault. He had tried to find him. Daryl had dragged a group out to Atlanta for this asshole. "All you had to do was wait. We went back for you. Rick and I, we did right by you."
Merle's voice had real anger now, "This the same Rick that cuffed me to the rooftop in the first place? Forced me to cut off my own hand? You his bitch now!?"
"I ain't nobody's bitch." Daryl mumbled.
"You're a joke is what you are. Playing errand boy to a bunch of pansy asses, niggers, and democrats. You're nothing but a freak to them. Redneck trash. That's all you are. They're laughing at you behind your back." Merle knelt down closer to him, growling in his ear, "Your precious little Tori included. You honestly don't believe a woman like her would pay you light of day, do you? I mean, you have to know that, right?
Daryl shook his head once, half-heartedly, "No…"
"I got news for you, son. One of these days they're gonna scrape you off their heels like you was dogshit."
The words stirred a storm in him. His brother had managed to hit on every single one of his inner fears and stoked the fire of resentment and worry in his chest. Daryl was angry. He was angry about how disappointed he was to hear his brother say what he did. He shouldn't care. Daryl shouldn't give a damn, but he did.
Black started to seep in around the edges of his vision. Daryl could feel himself falling into unconsciousness, but something jerked his body back into awareness. Pain shot through him at the movement. Merle shook him hard, again.
"Hey! They ain't your kin, your blood! Hell, you had any damn nuts in that sack of yours you'd go back there an' shoot your pal Rick in the face for me." Merle barked. "I mean, come on, baby brother. A part of you has to want to! He always cooin' and hangin' around little Tori. Guy is closer to gettin' in her pants than you are!"
Daryl didn't want to shoot Rick. At least, he thought he didn't want to shoot Rick. It never occurred to him before and thinking about it now left a sour taste in his mouth, but he was angry. He was angry and it had to go somewhere.
Merle grabbed his face, "Now you listen to me. Ain't nobody ever gonna care about you except me, little brother. Ain't nobody ever will. Now, come on!" He stood up and began to kick at Daryl's feet. "Get on your feet before I gotta kick your teeth in."
Daryl's brother began to kick at his feet even harder. It was shaking his entire body now and making the burning pain flash up his entire body. Merle's yells were getting quieter and instead a growl hung in the air. The haze was slowly slipping away, and the blurry world finally began to come into focus.
Daryl lifted his head to look down at his feet and saw a gray skinned walker with greasy black hair and half its face clawed off gnawing at his boot. Adrenaline dumped into his system and a cry of shock left his lips as he tried to drag himself away. At the noise, the walker's head rolled up to stare at him with yellowed, glazed over eyes. It hissed and Daryl lifted his other leg to kick the geek in the face.
The walker went sprawling back and Daryl took this opportunity to lunge away to where his crossbow was barely out of reach. It hurt to move, but his other option was getting eaten alive. His fingers came up short and the walker was back on him. Daryl grunted and caught the geek by the shoulders as it tried to sink its rotting teeth into him. In a panic, Daryl punched the walker in the side of the head twice and then threw it off him as far as he could.
It fell to the side and he grabbed the next closest thing to him, the walking stick he used to climb up the hill. He smashed it down onto the walker's skull again and again until there was nothing but a puddle of disgusting goo. His gaze drifted up just in time to see another walker stumbling along the sidebar toward him.
Daryl lunged off the walker to grab his crossbow. It had no arrows on it so he made the quick decision to grab the one embedded in his side and yank it out with a scream. The walker stumbled closer and closer. He struggled to get the bolt loaded onto the crossbow and he managed to get the string pulled back just in time.
He lifted the crossbow, fired, and the arrow hit the walker right in the forehead. It collapsed into the sand beside him and for the first time in the last couple minutes he took in a deep breath. Daryl laid back down into the sand and just let his relief mingle with his exhaustion and pain. After a moment, he sat back up and glanced around for any other walkers in the area. When he was satisfied that he wasn't going to get eaten in the next few seconds he let himself relax again. Daryl stripped off his button up shirt, folded it up into a pad, and pressed it against his bleeding wound. He used his sleeves to tie the pad into place and then stood back up.
Merle's words bounced around his head. Obviously, it had just been a pain induced dream, but that didn't change what his racist older brother had said. Briefly, Victoria's smile flashed in his head, but the warmth of her features were drowned out by the anger of his brother's words.
"Son of a bitch was right."
I was sitting in the grass, facing the farmhouse and the small camp, with my back leaning against the RV. Time had passed since I first dropped down into this spot, but how much time was unknown to me. Maybe an hour? Maybe longer? Honestly, the entire time my mind had just zoned out staring into space trying not to fall asleep. Sitting here in the shade was my feeble attempt at hiding from Castiel and Rick.
Andrea was currently the one on watch, so she sat on top of the RV. She had glanced at me when I first came by but hadn't said a word. Instead, she just sat in the chair with the rifle in her lap. I wasn't sure who had the bright idea of letting her sit on watch with the rifle, but that might've just been my bad mood talking.
Dale walked toward the RV with a spare sleeping bag tucked under his arm. His gaze landed on me, concern filling his kind eyes, before he tore them away to look up at Andrea. The concern switched to surprise and I assumed he was just as troubled as I was that Andrea of all people was the first line of defense for us right now.
"What's with the Annie Oakley routine?" Dale called out.
I couldn't see her from where I was seated, but I heard her reply back, "I don't wanna wash clothes anymore, Dale. I want to help keep this camp safe." I rolled my eyes and mumbled the words she said under my breath in a mocking tone. Luckily, neither Andrea nor Dale had heard me. "That alright with you?"
Dale stared at her for a beat before releasing a sigh. Andrea scoffed and moved around the top of the RV from the sound of it. The older man turned his attention back to me and slowly crouched down. He set a hand on my knee, "How are you feeling, Tori?"
"Not so hot." I replied honestly. It was getting to exhausting to lie at this point. In fact, I wasn't sure how much longer I could last at this rate. "I've had better days."
Dale offered me a soft smile, then held out his hand to me, "Why don't you come into the RV? Rest up."
I took his hand and let him help me up. My original plan had been to sit in the RV, but I figured if Castiel or Rick found me and I was inside the RV I would have nowhere to run. As we stepped into the RV I spotted Glenn sitting at the table with a blue book in his hand.
"Sorry. Just returning your book." Glenn lifted it slightly.
"Oh no. I'm sorry." Dale chuckled and put away the sleeping bag, "If I had known the world was ending, I would've brought better books."
Glenn and I chuckled in amusement and I sat across from Glenn and sunk in the seat. Dale went to work putting the book away and I watched as my friend squirmed awkwardly in his seat. He wanted to say something.
"So, uh, guys? I mean, no offense, Tori, but… is—is Andrea, like, on her period?"
Despite feeling like death, I couldn't help but snort at his words. Dale's eyes widened at Glenn's question and I just shook my head. Glenn glanced up at the ceiling before looking back to me, "I'm only asking because it's like all the women are acting really weird. Look at poor Tori." He referred to me. "I mean, are you—you on your…you know?"
"No, Glenn." I gave him a smile that probably looked more like a grimace, "Me looking like shit right now is not one of my usual period symptoms."
Glenn blushed and I chuckled again. It lifted my spirits some. They always said that laughter was the best medicine, right? Maybe someone, somewhere had a point.
"I'm gonna advise you to keep this theory to yourself." Dale said slowly. He shook his head, "Who else is acting weird?"
Glenn chuckled, his lips twisting in thought, and he pointed out the window toward the farmhouse, "Maggie."
"Ah, Maggie." Dale leaned against the counter and smiled to himself.
I curled my knees closer to my body and just melted into the seat. Most of this story I already knew, but it was soothing to just hear their voices speak.
Glenn continued, "She started off by being mean to me. Then she wanted to have sex with me. Now she's being mean to me. Again." He scoffed once, "And I don't even wanna know what's going on with Lori right now."
My head perked up at the mention of Lori.
"What's going on with Lori?" Dale asked.
"Nothing." Glenn shook his head quickly, obviously lying, "I don't know."
Dale shifted gears and focused back on his original point, "Alright, listen, how do you know Maggie wanted to have sex with you?" It was silent for a moment as Glenn tilted his head with a sheepish smile. I scrunched my nose up in a knowing grimace as Dale's eyes bounced back and forth between the two of us. He groaned, "Oh, son, you didn't. Did it ever occur to you how her father might feel about this?"
Glenn shrugged nonchalantly, "She's 22."
"And he is our host!"
"Well, he doesn't know!"
"See that it stays that way." Dale said firmly, "Jesus, Glenn, what were you thinking?"
Glenn's face fell in disappointment and he slowly stood up from his seat. He shook his head, "I was thinking… that I might be dead tomorrow." I flinched at the thought of Glenn even getting hurt and Dale's face flashed with regret. He hadn't meant to hurt the Korean. Glenn readjusted his ballcap and began to leave, "Thanks for the book. You're right. It sucked."
Dale looked torn, like he wanted to run after him, but I stood and held up my hand, "I got him."
I stepped out of the RV with full intent to chase after Glenn, but when I got aa few steps clear of the RV an ache filled my chest and I stopped with a gasp of pain. My fingers clutched at my shirt while goosebumps covered my arms as if I weren't in the Georgia heat.
Glenn noticed and rushed back to me, "Tori? Are you ok?"
I shook my head, unable to speak. It felt like there was a tearing force in my chest. Like my very soul was trying to crawl out of my skin and away from where I was. Was I having a heart attack? I glanced out to the field just as a figure stepped out from the forest line. It was about a hundred yards away.
"Walker! Walker!" Andrea yelled loudly.
Glenn kept his arm around my shoulders as T-Dog jogged over holding the softball bat I had found on the highway. He probably scooped it up from my tent as he passed at the call of the walker.
"Just the one?" Rick walked up to the now forming group. His eyes glanced at me nervously before looking back out to the field. Castiel and Shane joined the group of us as we tried to see more of the walker. It looked like it was alone, but something was off.
"I bet I can nail it from here!" Andrea boasted from the top of the RV.
"No." Rick said firmly. "Put the gun down."
Shane twisted his hands around the crowbar he held. His blue button up shirt was wide open revealing his bare chest. He called out as well, "You best let us handle this."
Rick shook his head, "Shane, hold up. Hershel wants to deal with the walkers."
The two of them began to argue and my chest ached again away from the direction of the field. Curiously, I took a hesitant step toward the field and chilling pain tried to yank us back. Away. This thing that haunted me. This pain that plagued me. It wanted to run away. The black figure, the oil that would randomly appear on my skin, it wanted to be as far away from the figure emerging out of the woods as humanly possible.
And that left me with only one option.
I pulled myself away from Glenn and started sprinting out into the field.
"Victoria!"
"She's got the right idea!" Shane yelled from behind me.
As I ran, I was vaguely aware that others had followed after me, but as I was now learning I was very fast. Without a bum foot to slow me down, I was able to keep ahead of the group behind me by a significant amount. Every step I took was a mix of aching pain and sudden warmth.
As I closed in on the figure, my feet came to a screeching stop a few feet away. Recognition hit me, "Daryl?"
The redneck was covered in grime and dried blood. He was filthy and pale. The color was gone from his usually tanned skin and based on the amount of dried blood I could see on him it was probably from blood loss. He only had on a dirty wifebeater with his flannel tied around his gut soaked in blood. Around his neck was a necklace of walker ears. My eyes finally landed on his, and all I could see was a wild anger. He looked absolutely feral.
"What are you gawkin' at?!" He snapped and the tone of his voice made me jump.
I took a step toward him, broken out of my spell, "Oh my God, are you ok?"
"Back off!" He sneered, "Like you even give a shit."
"Daryl—" I shook my head in disbelief. Didn't give a shit? Is that what he thought?
"Just stop, Tori!" Daryl barked again. Hearing my name come from him rather than his nickname for me was jarring. He threw his hand out toward me, "I don't need anybody. Not that camp, and not you."
It was painfully silent as his words sunk in. What he said hurt. His words were sharp and angry and with how terrible I already felt I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, but that was hardly what I needed to focus on right now. He was injured. Badly. And despite what he thought, he did need someone right now.
The others finally reached me in a swarm of noise. In one swift motion, Rick pushed past me, forcing me behind him, and lifted his hand cannon up and ready to fire. I clawed at his back, "Wait, Rick, no!"
"Is that Daryl?" Glenn cried.
"That's the third time you've pointed that damn thing at my head!" Daryl yelled. He stepped forward and threw his hand at him, "You gonna pull the trigger or what!?"
There was a brief pause before a gunshot rang through the air. I watched in horror as Daryl's head snapped back and he collapsed to the ground motionless. Fear welled up in me and it felt like time froze. Had Rick really shot him? It couldn't be. The gunshot had been too quiet.
"Daryl!" I screamed and pushed past Rick to get to Daryl's side.
"No!" Rick whipped around and waved his arms at the camp, "No!"
I fell to my knees by Daryl's side and watched as he groaned and squirmed on the ground in pain. My hands fell to his neck and I turned his head to see a long wound on the side of his head where the bullet had grazed him. One inch to the side and he would be dead. I let out a breath of relief, "It clipped him. He's ok."
"I was kiddin'." Daryl groaned while in a daze.
Rick hooked his hand under my arm and pulled me up to my feet, "Watch out."
Castiel and Shane got on either side of Daryl and lifted him up with one of his arms around each of their shoulders. As soon as they got him upright, Daryl passed out. Glenn ran over and scooped up the fallen crossbow. The group hurried to get Daryl out of the field and into camp.
Andrea and Dale ran out into the field toward us, and all I felt was pure anger. It wasn't like this morning when I was momentarily pissed at Rick. This was a consuming rage. Daryl should be dead. If Andrea wasn't such a shitty shot, he could be dead. Gone from this world. Gone from me.
"Oh my God, oh my God! Is he dead!?" Andrea cried in horror.
I lunged forward with intent to harm, but Rick's arm caught me at last minute around the waist. Still, I screamed, "You nearly killed him! Rick said not to shoot! He said don't fucking shoot!"
Rick continued to hold onto me as I struggled to get away from him. He answered Andrea's question, "Unconscious. You grazed him."
"But look at him!" Glenn motioned to him, "What the hell happened out there? He's wearing ears!"
Others were beginning to come out at the noise. Rick used his free hand to reach over and rip the necklace of ears off. He shoved it into his pocket, "Let's keep that to ourselves."
My anger was beginning to burn off and Rick gave me a questioning look that I nodded at. Slowly, he let go of me. When I didn't immediately tackle Andrea, he seemed appeased and focused back on the mess at hand.
"Uh, guys?" T-Dog called out. He was near the back of the group and we all had to turn to look at him. In his hand was a plush doll marred with mud and now blood, "Isn't this Sophia's?"
It was the first sign that Sophia was even still out in the woods.
The room was silent save for the sounds of Daryl breathing. He was breathing though. That was what mattered. Shane and Castiel had carried him into the house and set him on an empty bed upstairs. Hershel had shooed them out and then followed to grab his medical bag. That left Rick and I in the room alone. I could hear him behind me, looking over the map they had been using to keep track of where we had searched for Sophia so far.
Rick hadn't spoken up to me yet and I was sort of grateful for that.
My hand shook as I used a wet rag to try and wipe away the dried blood and dirt that was stuck to his skin. The graze on the side of his head had already stopped bleeding thankfully. He had a puncture wound on his side that worried me though. Something had gone straight through him. The fact that he wasn't already dead meant it must not have cut through anything major which was a miracle. Daryl had collected miracle after miracle today and that was the only reason why he was here alive.
"He's gonna be alright." Rick's voice startled me. I nodded, not even sure if Rick could see me nod, but I was too afraid to speak up. I didn't want my voice to shake like my hands did. A silent moment passed when I felt Rick walk up behind me. He took the dirty rag from my hands. When his skin brushed against mine, a chill went up my arm and down my spine. Quickly, I pulled my arms in close to my chest. Rick cleared his throat, "Maybe you should sit down, Victoria. You don't look so good."
Before I could reply or argue a groan cut through the air. Rick and I stared down at Daryl who shifted in pain, "What the hell…"
"Don't move." I said. Daryl's eyes cracked open, flinching at the light, and he looked up at me. "You're injured and I—I don't know how bad it really is yet."
Daryl grunted and sat up despite my arguments, "'M fine."
"What happened out there?" Rick demanded just as Hershel came back into the room with his leather bag filled with his slightly outdated medical supplies.
Daryl scoffed, "Damn horse threw me down the ridge." He lifted his hand to touch the wound on the side of his head, but I grabbed his hand and stopped it halfway. He sent me a glare that I ignored. The last thing that wound needed was his dirty fingers picking at it. Daryl snatched his hand away from mine and I missed the warmth, "Fell on an arrow, got attacked by some geeks, it's jus' been a shit day, alright?"
"Did you see Sophia?" Rick questioned again.
"Nah. Just found her doll."
"Where?" Rick set the map he was looking at out on the bed on top of Daryl's covered up legs. I had to take a half step back to avoid Rick's forearm from touching mine.
Daryl glanced over the map. His eyes squinted in either concentration or pain. Hell, probably a combination of both. Hershel tapped my arm with his and I took the white rag he was offering me since I was closer to Daryl's side. I could smell the alcohol fumes and leaned forward to lightly press it against the side of Daryl's head. He hissed in pain and glared at me again but said nothing. He motioned to a spot on the map, "Found it washed up on the creek bed right there. Must have dropped it crossin' there or somethin'."
"Cuts the grid almost in half." Rick said, excitement in his voice as he scooped the map back up to make notes.
"Yeah, you're welcome." Daryl brushed my hand away and I took a step back so Hershel could step up to the bed as well. Rick had drifted away with the map, writing something on it.
Hershel cleared his throat, "Any idea what happened to my horse?"
"Yeah, the one who almost killed me?" Daryl snapped as I knelt down to gather supplies, I knew Hershel and I would need to tend to his wounds. "If it's smart it left the country."
"We call that one Nelly. As in Nervous Nelly. I could've told you she'd throw you if you'd bothered to ask. It's a wonder you people have survived this long."
At the dig at our capabilities, Rick's jaw clenched. It seemed like Hershel was growing more sick of us with every passing minute. It didn't help that we kept draining his resources and coming in injured every other day. Rick rolled up the map and shot me a look. I turned to Hershel and gave him a smile, "You're busy. I can take it from here and you can—"
"No." Daryl snapped, and we all glanced over at him. He nodded toward the older man, "Let him sew me up."
Tending to Daryl's wound, while taking stress off Hershel potentially, it also gave me the comfort of knowing he was going to be ok. It was more selfish than anything really. I shook my head at him, "I'm fine, Daryl. I can—"
"Don't care. Get out, Tori."
"Okay." I said quickly and rushed out without a backward glance. Once I got out into the hallway, I felt frustrated tears collect in my eyes again. Was this really upsetting to me or was I just too exhausted to properly process my emotions? I crossed my arms tightly and tried to ignore the ache in my chest. I think I was upset. Hearing Daryl say that I didn't give a damn and then having him kick me out felt like a slap to the face. Did he really think I didn't care at all? Is that what he thought of me? If he had, God forbid, died today would he have died thinking I didn't give a damn at all when the very opposite was true?
"Victoria."
I whipped around to see Rick had stepped out of the room with the map. He closed the door behind him. The look on his face was a weird mix of worry and pity. Rick opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off, "I know. I know. He's gonna be ok, I need rest, and I shouldn't worry. I know."
Being out here alone with Rick was the opposite of running out to the field. The black liked Rick. It craved that cold chill and standing this close to him it wanted me to move even closer. To welcome that freezing ache.
Rick shook his head, "Did the two of you fight before he left?"
"No, everything was good between us. It was—" I cut myself off with a scoff, "Wait, no, don't ask me that like we're a couple having a tiff."
He tilted his head with a small smile, and I couldn't help but chuckle. Rick shrugged before clapping his hand on my clothed shoulder in a comforting manner. He squeezed my shoulder once, "Give him some time. He had a rough day. He'll need you once he's cooled off a little."
Footsteps on the stairs made us glance over to see Shane and Lori hurrying toward us. Lori reached us first and went straight to Rick who stepped away from me to pull her into a hug. She glanced at me, "Is he—?"
"He's gonna be ok." I replied. Rick nodded in agreement and planted a kiss on the side of Lori's head.
Shane crossed his arms tightly, "We can't keep going out there. Not after this."
"You'd quit now?" Rick scoffed, "Daryl just risked his life to bring back the first hard evidence we've had."
"That is one way to look at it. The way I see it, Daryl almost died today for a doll."
"Yeah, I know how you see it." Rick snarled, half under his breath, before leaving.
I stood between Lori and Shane who both stared at me. Awkwardly, I gave them a sheepish smile before slipping past them to go down the stairs. That was something I definitely didn't have the energy for. Shane's voice was hushed when he spoke to Lori, and I couldn't hear the words, but it reminded me of the secret I was holding onto.
Guilt overwhelmed me and I shuffled to the front door. Maybe I could hide in the RV again. As I reached the screen door I could see Andrea and Dale sitting on the stairs of the front porch.
Andrea spoke up, guilt in her voice, "I shot Daryl."
"Don't be too hard on yourself." Dale replied, with a kind smile, "We've all wanted to shoot Daryl." I couldn't help but chuckled as I pushed open the door. Both of them turned to look at me. Andrea again looked guilt, but Dale looked surprised. He motioned to me, "Aren't you supposed to be fixing him up? Is he alright?"
"He's fine." I nodded, "Hershel said he had it covered."
I couldn't admit out loud that Daryl just wanted me nowhere near him. Maybe I had freaked him out earlier when I held his hand to my face. He wasn't exactly the touchy feely kind of man, and I completely crossed that boundary with no care for his feelings. That would explain why he didn't want me anywhere near him now.
Dale gave me a pat on the back before walking away. I sat down beside Andrea on the stairs, staring out toward the now setting sun. The entire sky was a dark orange that made the entire camp glow with warmth. The hole in my chest still felt cold though. Like the warmth couldn't reach me despite being right here.
I glanced over at Andrea to meet her glare. She shook her head stubbornly, "I don't need you to scold me for accidentally shooting your boyfriend. Don't you think I feel bad enough?"
"Why does everything think Daryl and I are a thing?" I questioned. If only they knew the truth, that he couldn't fucking stand me. With a wave of my hand, I continued, "That wasn't why I sat down, I just wanted to apologize for yelling at you in the field like I did. Tensions were high and I'm…on edge."
Andrea's features softened, "What?"
I chuckled and bumped my shoulder into hers, "Do you remember when we were in the quarry? You and Amy fixed me up all nice. Took me under your wing, gave me food, put shoes on my feet…"
We both glanced down at my feet which were currently covered with the same boots Amy had given me. Her extra pair. I hadn't found any shoes that were more comfortable than these, and now that Amy was gone… Well, I didn't have the opportunity to get to know her very well, but I could take this part of her with me. Her kindness.
"We don't see eye to eye." I breathed then laughed, "That's probably an understatement, but… you're kind of like family now. In a world like this, we all are. We gotta look out for each other like we are at least. Granted, you're more like a second cousin that I can't be in the same room with for longer than an hour." She snorted at me. "But regardless of that, I have your back. This group is filled with opposites and if we were a family we'd be a hella dysfunctional one, but one none the less."
Andrea sighed, "I'm the second cousin that shot our redneck, alcoholic uncle."
I laughed at her additional analogy. She smiled and I nodded, "Your intentions were good. I can respect that. Maybe just double check who you're shooting at next time."
"Gee, thanks."
"What're cousins for?" I joked and nudged her lightly before standing up. I wavered slightly, and she reached out to steady me, but I mumbled that I was fine. Ideally, I would go to the RV or find Castiel or Glenn, but something in me couldn't bear to leave the house. It was pathetic, but it was where I was stuck right now.
Just like Carol had talked about with Lori this morning, the two of them worked together to make dinner in the kitchen for all of Hershel's family and the group. It was a good idea in theory, and the food really was amazing. However, nothing, not even a fantastic dinner, could cut through the awkward air that hung between Hershel's family and our make shift one.
There hadn't been enough room at the main dining table for everyone, so a smaller fold-out table had been set up beside the main table where the youngest of the group were sitting. The youngest being Carl, Beth, Jimmy, Maggie, and Glenn. I was seated at the "adult" table sitting between Hershel and Castiel with Patricia in front of me. From where the table was set, I had Glenn sitting right behind me.
The only sound in the room was the clatter of fork and knives against the ceramic plates. I took another mouthful of food and glanced around sheepishly. T-Dog caught my gaze and raised his eyebrows at me. The simple motion made me smile. At least, I wasn't the only one who thought this was incredibly awkward.
Suddenly, the sound of a wooden chair scooting back filled the air coming from right behind me. I glanced back to see Glenn had pushed his chair away from the table and was now looking over at us with his arm draped against the back of the chair. I turned so I was half facing him as he spoke.
"So, does anyone know how to play the guitar?" He was answered with more silence. "Dale found a cool one on the highway." Glenn tried again. I noticed Hershel tense in the seat beside me. "Come on, someone here must know how to play?"
There was another beat of silence before Patricia cleared her throat and spoke without looking up from her plate, "Otis did."
I watched as Glenn's friendly smile slid right off his face. Hershel nodded once, "He was very good too."
Glenn's eyes darted to me and it took everything in me not to laugh at the embarrassed, horror in his eyes. He was the epitome of someone sticking their foot in their mouth. It had been a good attempt at breaking the ice. He slowly turned around and I hid my chuckle with cough before turning back to my food.
Dinner, thankfully, ended another twenty minutes later and I made myself busy by helping clear the table of dirty dishes. Maggie was at the sink with Beth washing the items I brought to them. As I grabbed a towel to dry some of the already washed plates, I internally argued with myself on whether or not I should go upstairs to talk to Daryl. I wondered if I wanted to go up there to see him for myself or to rid myself of the irritating black that swam in my chest. I think it was to just see him.
I glanced over at Carol who was putting more food onto a plate, "What are you doing?"
"Daryl hasn't eaten yet tonight." She glanced at me with a kind smile, "I thought I'd bring him some food. As a thank you for everything he's done for Sophia."
"Oh."
Shit, that was a good idea. How come I hadn't thought of that? It would've been the perfect opportunity to check on him and bask in his unintentional warmth. Bitter at myself, I watched her place the plate and utensils on a tray. Carol began to walk away when she stopped and glanced over her shoulder, "Shoot. I forgot his drin—"
"I'll get it. Since—Since your hands are full." I said quickly and tossed the dish towel onto the counter. Carol nodded to me in appreciation and I grabbed a cup from the stack of clean items.
With the plan set in motion, the black in my chest flared and I gasped at the sudden chill. Beth set a hand on my shoulder, startling me, and I turned to look at her. She frowned, "Is everything ok, Tori?"
"Ye—Yeah. I'm ok." I nodded quickly.
I went back to the task at hand. Carol had made a lemonade for dinner, but the doctor in me won over and I poured him a glass of water. After the day he had in the woods the poor guy needed some water in his system more than anything. I hurried upstairs, as quickly as I could without spilling the drink, and stopped outside Daryl's cracked open door.
His voice drifted out into the hallway, "Didn't do anythin' today Rick or Shane wouldn' have done."
"I know." Carol said softly. Some supernatural force was trying to pull me back down the stairs. It didn't want me here. "You're every bit as good as them. Every bit."
A few seconds passed and Carol stepped out of the room with flushed cheeks and a small smile. She noticed me and jumped slightly, "Oh, Tori." She took a step toward me in concern. I must have looked as wild and frayed as I felt. She held out a hand, "You don't look so good. Maybe you should lie down?"
"Yeah, maybe. Thanks for dinner." I said and pushed past her.
Before I could chicken out, I stepped into the room and closed the door behind me. With a sigh of relief, I leaned back against the door and let the comfort of the room wash over me. The chill was gone, but the fatigue fell onto my shoulders hard.
"What the hell are you doin'?"
My eyes snapped over to Daryl who sat up in bed. He was leaned up against the headboard with the blanket drawn up to his chest leaving only his arms, neck, and head in plain view. There was a stark white bandage wrapped around his head and a single stich at the edge of his eyebrow holding that wound closed. Daryl had color in his cheeks again and the sight of that alone brought relief to my tired thoughts.
"Sorry. I brought—um, water." I held the glass up awkwardly.
"Oh. Thanks."
I nodded once and stepped forward to set the glass onto the nightstand beside him. Conversations with Daryl always had silences. That was one of the things I liked about him. He didn't need to fill every moment with noise. This silence was different though. It reminded me of the silence that settled on all us downstairs during dinner.
Daryl snorted, "You gonna say somethin' or—"
"Carol is right you know." I blurted out. He raised an eyebrow at me, "You're a good man. You are."
"Whatever." He brushed me off and stared down at the tray of food resting in his lap. The silence creeped over us again and I wished I knew where to go from here. Daryl glanced back over at me, "You got somethin' else to say?"
I wrung my hands together in front of me and bit down on my lip. He continued to stare at me expectantly, and I finally got the nerve to say something, "You're… You're wrong."
"What?"
"You're wrong." I said firmly, finally finding my words and courage. "You are wrong. Daryl, you need us." He scoffed and I shook my head, "Ok, maybe not in the physical sense because I mean look at what you survived today without us…" My voice trailed off and I tried to re-focus myself on the point I was trying to make. "But you need us for more than that. Humans weren't designed to be alone. Not for a long period of time or—or in a world like this. Emotionally, Mentally, you need us."
As good as Daryl was on his own, despite all the times in his life he must have been forced to be alone, he needed a support system. He needed people, and God knows we needed him. I needed him. For more than just this weird supernatural thing happening to me. Daryl was a friend, a good one even though he argued otherwise, and with how broken my brain was I couldn't bear to lose another person.
"And you said I didn't care and that isn't true!" I snapped; frustrated tears began to collect again but I forced them back. "I don't have anyone from my past. I have no connection to who I used to be or the world I came from… All I—all I have is this. This group. Glenn, T-Dog, Castiel, Rick, Shane, Carol, you. You." I crossed my arms tightly in front of me and stared at a spot on the wall to avoid looking at him directly. "Today when I saw you limping out of the forest, I thought… I thought the worst. And then—then when Andrea fired the gun and your head snapped back God—"
My voice cracked and I took a moment to try and regain any composure I had.
"Tori…"
"I thought you were dead." I didn't let him speak. I wasn't done. "I thought you were gone and that the last thing you thought about me was that I didn't care."
Daryl spoke up again, "You don't need to worry 'bout me. I can handle my own."
With a scoff, I turned to look at him again. His face was drawn in hard lines, but there was a softness in his eyes that encouraged me to keep going, "Daryl, I didn't choose to start caring about you just like I can't choose to stop. You're my friend, whether you like it or not, and caring is part of the package deal. It's not something you can help! When I got shot didn't you—"
The words came out in a rush and it took me a moment to reign myself back. I hadn't meant to say that. I didn't want to hear his answer to that. It was stupid to ask, and I couldn't believe I let myself get carried away like that.
"Never mind, I should go—"
"I was worried." His voice was low and gruff. I almost thought I was hallucinating it. "Some girl comes ridin' through the trees on a damn horse sayin' you got shot and needed blood… and you got doubts on me carin'?"
The next words I said came out in a whisper, "You doubted me."
It was silent between us again, but this time the silence resembled what it was supposed to be. I turned and sat down in the rocking chair by his bed. Daryl watched me the entire time and for another moment we just stared at each other.
"Friends, huh?" He grunted.
I chuckled, "I think you're stuck with me for the foreseeable future."
Daryl nodded once, "I ain't too good at that, sunshine."
"I'm willing to put up with the learning curve." I shrugged, then smirked, "DD."
He scoffed and the mood lightened, "I said don't call me that."
I pulled my legs up onto the rocking chair and held them to my chest, "Nicknames are also part of the package deal. Right between caring and good-natured mocking." Daryl snorted and lifted his head to scratch at the wound by his eye. "Hey, don't pick at that. You should eat and make sure to drink all that water, you need it."
"What makes you think you're the boss of me?"
"My medical degree. That I maybe, probably have." I joked and he rolled his eyes before digging into his meal. While he ate, I leaned my head back against the chair and let my eyes close. It felt safe to close my eyes here. The fear of a monster crawling out from the recesses of my mind to plague me didn't feel quite so imminent.
When I opened my eyes again things were different. Daryl's tray was on the floor with an empty plate and empty glass. I blinked, trying to get myself out of the sleepy haze that hung around my head, and sat up, "Daryl?"
"Hmm?"
"Did I… Did I fall asleep?"
Daryl nodded, "For 'bout twenty minutes or so. You ok?"
I set my feet back on the floor to lean on my knees, "I, uh, yeah. I think that's the first time I've fallen asleep without having a nightmare." As I said the words they fully registered in my head. Daryl stared at me curiously. This had to be connected to the warmth I felt around him. To the fact that whatever black hid beneath my skin couldn't overpower Daryl's presence.
"Can I sleep in here tonight?" I blurted out.
Daryl's eyes widened for only a moment, "Huh?"
"Can I sleep in here—"
"I know what you said." Daryl cut me off. "Why do you wanna?" I opened my mouth, but he cut me off again, "An' don' bullshit me."
I twisted my lips and squirmed in my seat, "I… I don't have nightmares when I'm around you, I think. You make me feel…safe." The word felt true as I said it. That was what it was. When I was around Daryl, I didn't worry. I felt safe. "Sorry if that puts you in a spot, I'm not trying to make you feel weird I just…"
My voice trailed off and I could see the gears turning in Daryl's head. I knew some of the people in camp thought Daryl was just some redneck hick, but he was so much more. Daryl saw things others didn't, he noticed the smallest details, and he thought his every step through.
"Ok." He nodded. "But I'm kickin' you out if you snore."
I couldn't hold back my grin. Daryl's lips twitched up in the corner, but he glanced away. Quickly, I stood up and went to grab his tray off the floor, "I'm gonna go grab my bag and let the others know that I'll be here. Be right back!"
Daryl grunted out a confirmation and I hurried out of the room. The moment I shut the door behind me the freezing chill washed over me and I audibly gasped. The tray shook in my hand and I had to force myself to tighten the grip so I didn't drop it. Once the brunt of the attack passed, I kept moving forward. After putting the dishes in the sink, I left the house to go grab my bag. It'd be nice to have my clothes and minimal belongings with me plus I needed my sleeping bag.
Halfway to camp I noticed someone walking toward me. My shoulders stiffened briefly, but then I recognized the figure and his limp. I smiled and lifted my hand in a small wave, "Hey, Shane. How's your ankle?"
"Fine. Strained it runnin' out in the field today. I was about to come get you." Shane motioned his hand toward the house before turning and walking beside me in the dark. I wouldn't admit it out loud but having Shane here was nice. There was still something unnerving about the dark and walking in it alone hadn't been pleasant.
I shook my head, "How come you were looking for me?"
"You need to rest." He replied with a shrug.
I glanced over at him curiously. There was something off about his answer. Not that I was questioning his kindness, but he was just giving off an odd vibe. I couldn't see his features in the dark though, so it left me guessing. I cleared my throat, "Well, thanks. I appreciate it, but I'm just grabbing my bag and heading back to the house."
"Hershel letting you sleep in there again?"
"Actually, I'm sleeping with Daryl." I answered. Shane stopped in his tracks and I flinched at how my sentence had sounded. I stopped and turned to look at him. We were standing by T-Dog's tent which was one of the tents on the outer ring of camp. The campfire sent strange shadows across the land and Shane's face showed his surprise. I scoffed, "I didn't mean that how I said it. It's not like that. At all."
Shane smirked, "Then what's it like?"
"It's… hard to explain, which I know doesn't help my case, but I swear it's not what you're thinking."
"So you and Daryl aren't…?"
"No." I said firmly and started walking again, he followed, "We're just friends."
Shane stood outside my tent as I ducked in to grab my stuff. He clicked his tongue at me as I stepped back out. Shane nodded toward me, "You know, I don't think Rick would approve of you and the redneck."
Curiously, I tilted my head, "What makes you say that?"
"Well", Shane shifted toward me and I wrapped my arms around my sleeping bag, "He cares a lot about you. Wants the best of course, and I doubt he'd be keen on you spending more time with Daryl than him."
I laughed at the ridiculousness of his statement, "He would not. Rick worries sure, but that's in his nature. He wouldn't—"
"You'd be surprised." Shane nodded toward something behind me and I glanced over my shoulder to see Castiel, Andrea, T-Dog, and Rick sitting around the fire. "He likes you a lot, Tori. Dare I say it, I think he prefers your company over Lori's some days."
What he said didn't sit well with me and I was reminded of Shane's relationship with Lori. Now that I could see part of his face all I saw was a stern bitterness. I didn't trust it. Right now though, I didn't have time to dwell on it. Daryl was waiting. I motioned behind me, "Um, can you tell the others I'm in the house. Please?"
"Sure thing, Tori. Night." He squeezed my shoulder as I passed, and I let his words slip from my brain entirely.
Shane watched as Victoria ran across the field with her stuff heading to the house. The last thing he expected to throw a wrench in his plans was the damn redneck. If he had to guess about what guy would get involved with Victoria, he would've said Glenn or T-Dog or Castiel. Not fucking Daryl Dixon. If Lori was ever going to come back to him, to see how much better he was for her than Rick, then Victoria couldn't be with Daryl. She needed to be with Rick.
Maybe he was going about this the wrong way though.
After all, jealousy could drive people to crazy things.
Shane would know.
He turned on his heel and casually walked to the campfire and took a seat across from Castiel and Andrea. The blonde woman was leaning over in her seat to talk to him, shamelessly flirting, but Castiel seemed oblivious to it all. It was like he wasn't even human.
"So, Tori ain't camping with us tonight." He said loud enough that all four people around the fire could hear him.
Rick was the first to question him, concern evident, "Why?"
"She said she's sleeping with Daryl tonight." Shane shrugged and made sure to say exactly what Victoria had said to him. He wasn't lying after all.
Andrea let out a loud laugh and Shane smirked to himself that the bait was taken. The blonde grinned, "Knew the two of them were gonna shack up eventually. They've been all over each other.
Rick clenched his jaw. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about the idea of Victoria and Daryl being together in that way. Rick didn't have anything against Daryl. Hell, he thought he was a good guy at the end of the day. Still there was something about the idea that put a rock in his gut.
"I don't understand." Castiel mumbled, his eyes darting to T-Dog who sat on his other side.
T-Dog shrugged, "Shane and Andrea think Tori and Daryl are hooking up."
"You don't?" Andrea scoffed.
"I think they like each other, but there's no way either of them have made a move."
"It's the end of the world." Andrea leaned back in her seat and let her eyes drift to Castiel, "There's no place for hesitation anymore. If you like someone you should just act on it. Besides, they probably have already. She was drunk with him at the CDC, right?"
Rick cut in with a firm tone, "Nothing happened that night."
"Don't get me wrong, I think Daryl's an alright guy, but come on." Andrea chuckled, "What do you think is gonna happen when some drunk pretty girl throws herself at a redneck hick?"
Shane spoke up next, "Hm, guess Daryl's more like Merle than we thought."
Rick's blood ran cold at the thought. The others began to move around and head to their tent. He heard Andrea huff in frustration before leaving. It was one thing if Victoria was with Daryl. Something he didn't like but couldn't explain. But Victoria being with a scumbag like Merle? That sickened him.
"You alright there, brother?" Shane had come over to stand by him.
Rick sent him a glare, "You just let her go? She needs real rest."
"She's a big girl, and I ain't her daddy."
Shane was right about that. Rick wasn't her father either, but he still felt a responsibility for Victoria. He had since the day he found her on the side of the road bloodied and bruised. Plus, these days she was one of his closest confidantes. Victoria brought him comfort when all he had was self-doubt and loathing.
Daryl seemed vastly different from his racist, druggie of a brother, but Rick couldn't help but wonder if he stayed different behind closed doors? Maybe Daryl was just better at hiding it. Shane walked away without another word and Rick turned to stare at the house while mentally trying to convince himself that Daryl was nothing like Merle.
"She's not having sex with him." Castiel said bluntly as he came to stand beside him.
Rick choked on a breath of air and snapped his gaze over to the unusual man. Castiel was a good guy. Victoria had been right to pull him into their mixed-up little group, but there was no denying that there was something kind of off about the guy. Not in a way that Rick thought would bring danger or harm to his people, he wouldn't let Castiel stay if he did, the man was just…weird. Like his dark blue eyes held a well of knowledge he couldn't explain.
"What?"
"You seem concerned that Tori is having sex with Daryl." Castiel replied simply and Rick opened his mouth to argue. It wasn't that exactly. He was just— "I can't tell you how I know, but I do. She's seeking a different kind of comfort from him."
Rick blinked once in confusion, "What are you talking about, Cas?"
There was a pause between them and Castiel's dark blue eyes looked distant. The man was still standing beside him, but his mind was miles and miles away. A few more seconds passed before Castiel looked back to him with a comforting smile, "She is…going through some issues. Daryl is helping her. He's the only one who can right now."
Rick sighed and tried not to let those words bother him either, but that was kind of the root of this issue. Unknowingly, Victoria had managed to worm her way into his heart. She was always there for him when he was stressed or confused. Victoria brought him comfort that sometimes he didn't even know he needed. Rick was jealous. He was jealous that in her times of need she went to Daryl for comfort rather than him. It made him feel selfish. All he did was take from his new friend and she couldn't even count on him to reciprocate? If Victoria had a problem, if she was in trouble, Rick wanted to be able to help.
"Is she ok, Cas?" He sighed. "Just tell me she's alright."
Castiel gave him a short nod, "She will be. I will make sure of it."
Rick glanced one more time at the house that was now dark before clapping Castiel on his shoulder and turning to head to his tent.
It only took a couple minutes for me to race into the house and up the stairs. Every step, I could feel that icy feeling crawl up my spine and I knew the faster I got back to the safe haven of Daryl's room the faster the feeling would vanish. Without knocking, I swung into the room and shut the door tightly behind me, leaning against it trying to catch my breath.
"The hell?" Daryl said skeptically and I glanced over at him to see him staring at me with a mix of concern and confusion, "Act like somethin' is chasin' you."
"Sorry." I breathed with a smile. Slowly, the warmth of the room began to fill up my chest and my eyes began to grow heavy with exhaustion. This exhaustion was welcomed though. It didn't fill me with fears of the dark. I gave him a quick, tight lipped smile before setting my bag down and moving to set my sleeping bag up on the wooden floor by the wall.
"You're gonna sleep there?"
I glanced over at Daryl who once again looked annoyed or confused. Nonchalantly, I shrugged at him and motioned to the rocking chair, "It's preferred over the chair. I mean, I'll be fine. This floor is probably better than the ground outside."
Daryl stared at me for a second before pushing himself into a seated position. His face flinched in pain, "I'll take the floor."
I rushed over with my hands out to stop him from crawling out of the bed, "You're kidding me, right? You're injured. I am not letting you sleep on the floor."
"You try an' boss me 'round a lot for someone who said they don' like bein' called 'Doc'." Daryl scoffed and didn't stop in his pursuit to get up.
I firmly set my hands on his shoulders. He stiffened briefly before relaxing under my touch with a light glare. I shook my head firmly, "You are not getting out of this bed, DD."
"Well I ain't lettin' you sleep on the floor, sunshine." He countered just as firmly.
Five more minutes of us arguing in circles happened before I found myself lying on the right side of the bed with the lights off. Daryl was lying on the left side, on his back, with his eyes closed and about a foot of space between us. Apparently, the both of us were too stubborn to let the other lie on the floor. If I was being honest though, I really liked this.
I stared at the outline of his features with a soft smile of my own. Daryl was radiating a warmth off him and lying next to him felt a lot like basking in the sunlight. There was no room in my chest to be fearful of my nightmares of the creeping cold. Daryl was like a dreamcatcher. He soaked in all the negative energy in the room leaving me content and comfortable.
"You just gonna stare at me all night?" Daryl asked suddenly making my eyes widen. My face burned with embarrassment. I had thought he had already fallen asleep.
"Oh, sorry." I replied and he didn't bother opening his eyes. "Can I ask you something?"
"If I say no will that stop you?"
"Probably not."
"Go ahead."
I bit back a smile and shifted in bed to get more comfortable. I rested both my hands under the side of my head as I turned to face him entirely. Daryl again didn't move, but he also didn't look tense.
"You weren't angry at me earlier, right?" I said softly. He grunted in confirmation. "Then how come you didn't let me suture your wounds?" There was a beat of silence and if he wasn't lying so close to me I would've wondered if he had even heard me. I bit down on my lip and tried to explain my reasoning, "It's stupid, sorry, I just…I wanted to help—to see the injury myself in hopes that suturing would settle me and I don't—"
"Stop." Daryl said softly. There was no heat or irritation in the word. He just wanted me to stop rambling. I pressed my lips together and let him think quietly. Daryl didn't owe me an answer. It was a stupid question anyways. I only asked because my curiosity was gnawing at me. Daryl cracked his eyes open and glanced at me, "I didn' want you to see my back."
I blinked in surprise. At that point, I had really expected him to just fall asleep on me rather than offer me the truth. I swallowed the lump in my throat, "Why?"
Daryl closed his eyes again but shifted so he was facing me, and his back was even further hidden. It also explained why he had the sheet pulled up so high. He kept his eyes closed while talking, "It ain't pretty."
"Like…scars?" I asked quietly. As if saying the word too loudly was a sin. Daryl nodded once and a part of my brain told me to leave it alone. To stop pressing and just go to bed before he kicked me off the bed onto the floor, but… I didn't want to leave it alone. He wasn't alone in the shame. I knew what it felt like. I took in a slow breath, "Do you remember my scars?"
"Yeah." Daryl admitted. His eyes opened. "Only reason I told you was 'cause I owed you that at least."
I shook my head, "You don't owe me anything. Ever." After taking another slow breath, I focused my eyes on a spot on his shoulder to try and avoid his eyes, "It's different probably because you can remember why you have scars and I don't. Maybe it's easier on me since I don't remember—"
"You know it ain't. Don't lie." Daryl cut in softly. He wasn't wrong. I didn't know why my body was covered in so many odd wounds and a tattoo I didn't recognize. The not knowing put a bitter taste in my mouth. It was a reminder that I didn't even know my own damn body.
'Scars don't define us.'
Hearing Dean's voice echo in the back of my head nearly sent me over the edge. I didn't remember who he was, I couldn't even picture his face, but there was something so comforting about his voice. About the little words he'd whisper in my head. For the past three days it had been gone. Muffled by the cold.
I smiled tightly, "Scars are just proof that we survived." A small chuckle slipped from my lips and the words felt more true as I let fall into the quiet air between us, "They're reminders that no matter what terrible, awful thing happened to us, we came out on top. The trauma didn't win. We did."
Daryl didn't reply and my own eyes were starting to grow heavy. The lost sleep of the past few days was starting to catch up to me as I laid in this soft, safe bed. I bit back a yawn and reached forward to let my fingers brush against the bandage on the side of head. He didn't stiffen or flinch away.
"Once that heals, it'll just be proof that you despite it all you survived today."
My eyes fluttered closed and a warm hand wrapped around my own. A part of me wondered if I was already asleep. Daryl's hand squeezed my once before he moved it to the bed softly. His hand slipped away but the warmth was still there.
This farm was a haven from the living dead, and Daryl was a haven from the black.
Glenn walked through the dark night happily. He was close to skipping actually. In fact, he would if he wasn't so worried that Maggie would see him acting a fool. The woman had slipped him a note asking him for round two. That meant this wasn't just some apocalyptic one night stand and that put him on cloud nine. She had asked him to pick the place, and Glenn chose the barn. That was romantic, right? Maybe he should've asked Victoria, but he hadn't had the time.
Under his arm was a blanket, flashlight, and the box of condoms. Glenn wondered if he should've brought more blankets since the Georgia night was starting to get a little chilly, but maybe the lack of blankets would mean she'd have to cuddle up closer to him. He was satisfied with that.
Glenn reached the barn door only to find it shut and locked up with a thick and heavy padlock. He narrowed his eyes at it curiously before moving around to the side to see if there was a place he could slip into. His mission ended a success as he found a ladder leading up to the barn's second floor.
The young man started to climb having no idea that Maggie was sprinting through the dark to try and reach him before he got into the barn. She hadn't opened the note to check the location until he was long gone and seeing the words he left for her put panic and horror into her blood.
Glenn got to the top and crawled through an open window frame onto the hay covered wooden floor that wrapped around the wall of the barn. He'd have to find another ladder to get down to the floor below. The moment he took a step further into the barn though, a terrible, familiar smell hit him like a wall. With a white knuckle grip on the flashlight in his hand, Glenn creeped forward to the edge of the floor to peer over it. The beam of light washed over the lower floor revealing a group of about 15 walkers shuffling around aimlessly.
Horror washed over him and he scrambled back in a panic to get back to the ladder. The moment he turned to escape though, Maggie's face came into view at the window. Glenn opened his mouth to try and warn her, but the look on her face told him that she didn't need any sort of warning about what was in this barn.
Maggie pressed her lips together with regret then shook her head, "You weren't supposed to see this."
Dean sprinted through the thick woods dodging branches and roots. A sickening growl filled the air behind him as the monster hurried after him desperate for its next meal. If this had been a normal, run of the mill hunt, Dean would be dead by now. Only in this new reality was he able to outrun a fucking wendigo. Although it was disappointing that even during the end of the world his luck was still bad enough to run into shit like this.
He glanced over his shoulder to see the gray creature with long, gangly arms and legs try to grab him. It's face distorted in pain and anger. Dean pushed himself faster and finally he could see the road up ahead.
"Sammy!" Dean belted out. If his little brother hadn't found what they needed he was gonna kill Sam himself. That is, if the wendigo didn't rip them apart first. Sam was at the trunk of the impala digging through its content and throwing anything that got in his way onto the ground.
Dean broke through the tree line and his feet hit asphalt just as Sam grabbed and threw him a bright orange gun. He caught it and whipped around just as the Wendigo leaped out to him. The momentum of Dean's movement was sending him falling backwards, but he was still able to fire the flare straight into the center of the monster's chest. The monster screeched in pain and Dean rolled to the right to avoid the disgusting thing falling on top of him.
Sam pulled him back to his feet and both brothers watched the monster writhe on the ground as the fire from the flare did what it needed to do. Finally, the wendigo stilled, and Dean took this moment to try and catch his breath.
"Cutting it a little close, Dean." Sam sighed and moved to start picking up the items he threw aside.
Dean snapped his attention to him with a raised eyebrow, "You're one to talk. What took you so damn long to find the flare gun? I was nearly lunch!"
The Winchesters had been searching for Madison and Castiel non-stop now. Gabriel hadn't shown up again to help in any sort of way so they were counting solely on themselves. As they drove down the road they had found a path and signs of a struggle. They knew the blood probably didn't belong to either missing person, but they weren't the kind to blow past that sort of sign without at least checking.
Unfortunately, they had wandered directly into a wendigo's nest.
"I had kind of assumed the other monsters died out." Sam sighed. "Or at least I had hoped."
Dean shook his head, "You and me both. It was weaker though. Not nearly as fast or strong as it should've been. Otherwise it wouldn't ended us both."
Sam walked closer to the wendigo that was slowly crumbling to ash. The skin that remained had odd sores not usual for the creature. Sam reached out to look closer, but the remainder of it turned to ash. He glanced back at his brother, "It looked ill. Think the tablet is weakening the monsters?"
"I think…" Dean tossed the flare gun into the trunk and slammed it shut, "It's the diet. You saw that nest. Its victims looked like a mix of people who hadn't turned into chompers yet and some that did."
"So, the wendigo eats people as usual, but whatever the tablet did to humanity to cause this was poisoning him?" Sam said aloud then slowly nodded, "I guess it makes sense."
Dean lightly slapped the back of his hand against his brother's chest with a grin, "Good news, I bet the bloodsuckers are either all gone or soon to be."
"At this rate, all the monsters might die off." Sam mumbled.
"That's great. We finally get to retire from hunting, but the only reason we can is because the world died." Dean threw his hands up in annoyance. "That's pretty fitting for us."
Sam agreed quietly and Dean motioned for him to get back in the car. They had wasted a lot of time dealing with the wendigo and needed to get back on the road. They were close to the highway.
The rustling of trees on the other side of the impala had Dean and Sam both drawing their weapons without hesitation. Three men stumbled out of the woods and slowly raised their hands to try and show they weren't a threat. Sam glanced at Dean once before they both moved in unison to cover every angle.
"We don't mean any harm." A guy with cracked glasses said. He was thin and lanky, not very tall, and looked like a strong gust of wind could blow him over. "We're just wondering if y'all could lend us a little help."
"With what?" Dean snapped. They took a step forward and Dean pulled the hammer back making them freeze again. "I'd talk fast if I were you."
To the right of the guy with glasses was a younger boy. High school at the most. His curly black hair was matted with sweat and his eyes were blown wide with fear. On the other side was a guy, a little older, with a blue baseball cap nestled over his blond hair. His features were sharp and unlike the other two he didn't look upset at having a gun pointed at him. Dean made a mental note of that.
"Our group is camped out about ten miles past the closest town. We were out scavenging, but our car ran outta gas way down the road." Glasses motioned to the road they had already traveled. Dean and Sam had seen some cars broken down on the side of the road, but hadn't paid more attention than that. He pleased, "We were traveling through the woods when we heard you. Is there any way you can give us a lift? We'll make it worthwhile! We have water and food and even some spare gas at camp we can share."
Dean and Sam shared a hesitant glance. Saving people was kind of the name of their game, but in a world like this they knew it would only bring out the worst of humans. Both brothers knew exactly how insane and dangerous humans could be. Hell, they were worse than monsters sometimes. At the end of the day though, they couldn't shake the old habits they held. Sam nodded once and Dean let a sigh leave him. Best case scenario, this group had seen or heard of Castiel and Madison. Maybe they were even there.
"Fine. You cause any trouble though and we put a bullet in your heads. No hesitation." Dean barked and motioned to the car with his gun. The men thanked them quickly before hurrying to climb into the impala. Dean and Sam shared a knowing look over the roof of the car before climbing in themselves. Dean tucked his gun back into his jacket to drive, but Sam left his resting on his thigh with his hand over it. Safety off.
"What's your names?" Glasses questioned.
"I'm Bruce, this is my brother Clark." Dean replied. It may have been the end of the world, but the Winchesters still didn't hand out their real names to strangers. The supernatural community, though hopefully mostly dead now, talked and news could travel quick. Dean and Sam were well-known and well-hated. Any monster able to survive now was smart and they didn't need to be on their radar.
"Thank you. I'm Hank." Glasses motioned to himself then point to the baseball cap guy, "This is Ryan." He finally motioned to the kid, "And this is Randall."