Ugh, bless you all for the love you give this story, it really makes me happy, even after the lulls between updates. I can't wait to get my computer back, just needs a battery now so ya know….cross your fingers!
Caffiend04: between your support and your profile picture, I can't decide what I love the most. ShortNinja13: Thank you for the review! hidansgirl1234: I totally forgot that was from the Boondock Saints eek.
She feels horrible.
She feels like a slut.
Of course she should, she just half-fucked Merle, the brother of her crush…she felt filthy. She bit her cheek, drawing blood over her tongue and shook her head to drown those thoughts back into the deepest recesses of her mind. How can she think like that? After everything that had happened, everything that she had done? There was just something about him, the way he stalked around in dominance, the way he actually protected people without it being a second thought – certain people.
She started running her fingers through her now knotted hair, roughly, and then growled when her fingers caught on a tangle. She tried to be calm about it, really did, then almost snarled as she yanked her fingers through there finally, breaking through the tangle. She clenched her left hand, feeling the handful of hair and then shook her hand violently away from her body, as if the strands were some evil little creature. Her heart was fluttering in her chest, mimicking a hummingbirds heart beat.
"Marcine?"
She looked up with startled, wide, eyes at Glenn and Amy who were looking at her with their own wide eyes, fear in the fleck. Marcine never wanted them to be scared of her, wanted them to like her like she liked them, but that ship had pretty much sailed, right?
She clasped her hands in front of her, as if she were begging them. "You guys, I am so –"
"Marcine, we won't let them banish you," Amy shook her head, face twisted like she was disgusted which she probably was. "Ed, he needed to die. He was a pig."
Glenn looked over at Amy with worry then back to Marcine. "What are they doing to you?"
She blanked. "Huh?"
"Marcine, I don't know you very well but I know you're not like this. What you did, that is just…that's something they would do."
"You didn't even look human," Amy whispered.
Marcine stared at them, unconscious venom boiling in the back of her throat. "Your point?"
Glenn and Amy exchanged a quick glance. "Look, it doesn't matter," Marcine tensed under Glenn's hand as he brushed a hand over her left shoulder. "We just want you guys to stay. I mean, what if Shane lets another Ed into camp?"
"You'd be fucked, but if they send us away, they send us away," she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I…I don't really care right now."
He was so fucking pissed right now.
"Fucking slut," he hissed, stomping down on a rotting log.
It caved under his boot after the fifth blow, belching up dirt and dust in the air. A few termites and other creepers skittered from the hollow spot in the log, avoiding his boot as they swarmed out into the forest floor as thought they knew it was him that destroyed their home. He grumbled as he stomped over it, holding his revolver in his right hand. He just really wanted to shoot something, and the bugs weren't good enough. He didn't want it to be silent, he wanted to hear the sound of flesh ripping, some cry of pain. He needed I, craved it, but it looked like his luck was running out.
"Darylina!"
Daryl whipped around, fire in his eyes; Merle might just do. "Get th' fuck away from me Merle," he growled out, spreading his legs into a firmer stance.
The older male jogged to a stop in front of him, chest heaving. "Fuck nah, why you so angry? Just som' bitch, not yers."
"You're damn right she mine," Daryl spat, fingers flexing around his revolver handle; Merle watched the subtle twitch of movement. "Told ya from day fuckin' one she was mine! You got the last one!"
Merle rolled his eyes, wagging a finger at him. "Told ya, start with a virgin, bitch is as far from it as it gets. She useless.
She was not!
Daryl swung the butt of his revolver around, knocking Merle in the cheek; the skin split, tore, and blood seeped against his stubble. Merle stumbled back, holding onto the now bleeding cheek as he leveled a glare at his younger brother. Daryl rocked back on his heels, a smirk gracing his smug, scruffy face.
"Hurt," he ground out, leaning forward at the waist slightly.
"Fuck right it does," Merle grumbled out, spitting out just a little blood. "Dumb bastard, ya cut my gums."
"
Good," Daryl turned away, walking a little further.
He heard rustling a moment later and swung up and back from the left, cursing when Merle's thick fingers wrapped around his wrist in a vice grip. Merle twisted and elbowed Daryl in the abdomen, forcing Daryl to slam into his own back and he gasped, pain making the veins in his neck stand at attention. Merle jerked on Daryl's arm and smirked in pleasure as he heard Daryl let out a barely-there, strangled scream.
"Fuck you," Daryl hissed, cocking his knee and latching it around Merle's right leg. "She's mine."
He gave a quick jerk of his leg and they twisted, Daryl landing on top of Merle's back; he dug his knee against Merle's spine. Daryl lurched forward, beating Merle's hand to the gun and clicking it against the back of his brothers head, successfully paralyzing Merle against the ground. Daryl smirked, his back rolling in pleasure as he felt his brother quiver beneath him. It was bittersweet, considering how this was pleasure from having his brother under him, but domination ran in the family. He remembered watching his father beat his mother into submission in the kitchen, even when she would get the upper hand. After watching his brother do what he did with women for so many years, it almost mimicked how Merle killed their father.
"Hurt, don' it?"
"Do it," Merle growled, his breath making leaves and dust fly up and land on the back of his neck, his head.
Daryl stared at the back of his brothers head, contemplating on actually doing it. Should he? It was his brother after all, but he took what he wanted and he should pay; if Daryl would have even thought of laying a finger on one of Merle's girls, he would have been beaten half to death. Daryl pressed his knee just a little deeper into Merle's spine, a twisted grin coming onto his face when he heard a gasp of pain. He dug the barrel in subtly deeper; he should do it, he should make him pay for going against his own word. Daryl took in a deep breath, closing his eyes before he grit his teeth, opening his eyes. He pushed himself up and off of Merle's back, pressing his boot against a shoulder to gain balance. Just before Merle could push himself up, Daryl pressed his boot up into the back of his neck.
"She a virgin when ya fucked her," he cocked his head.
Merle chuckled. "Hell nah."
Daryl almost muttered a curse, but then it would have gave Merle a sense of satisfaction – for getting under his skin – but he bit his tongue. He took two steps back, watching Merle stand with narrowed eyes; to the wolves. "Like I told ya, go near 'er again – and I'll fucking kill ya."
Marcine stared into the fire in front of her, rocking back and forth slightly on the log she sat on. Glenn and Amy had left long ago, taking the children with them; Sophia and Carl had wandered over soon after they arrived, Sophia acting as though her father wasn't dead and her mother wasn't hysterical. Marcine was waiting on Daryl – and Merle, of course. Would they come back? Would they leave her? What if they were sick of her and the group? They couldn't just leave her, they couldn't.
"Calm ya tits."
Marcine looked up, eyes curving at the edges as Daryl stomped past her and ducked into his own tent, her eyes ignoring Merle as he fell down in his. They had been gone for longer than two hours and now they show up with nothing but Daryl telling her to calm her tits? Marcine smiled into her knees, biting her lip slightly as she watched the red hot wood burn under flames. Could she sleep in Daryl's tent again? Wouldn't that just be wrong? Would it upset him? Did she really care? She wasn't tired, and she could hear Daryl still moving around, Merle was already snoring and his boots twitched in the dirt; how the fuck could she be attracted to that? Even for just a split second?
Marcine rubbed a hand over her head, disrupting her hair and she stood, hesitating on the way to Daryl's tent. As she brushed back the flap, she caught his eyes. He stood in the center of the tent, hunched shoulders and heaving. He was angry.
"Jus' gonna stand there?"
She jumped. "I…do you want me to sleep here? I can go stay with someone else."
He looked away, thoroughly frustrated. "I don't care."
"Yeah you do."
He glared at her. "Why?"
She froze, eyes wide. "Uh…what?"
"Why did you fuck him?"
She swallowed, wrapping her arms around herself. "I don't know…I, heat of the moment," she muttered. "I was so…"
In heat.
"Don't do it again," he hissed.
And she jumped. "O-Of course," she crinkled her nose. "Never…ever again."
I wanted it to be longer but I have limited access to this computer and need to work on other things.
