One shot, down.
One shot, down.
One shot, down.
He could hear the whistle of the arrow, could feel the muscles in his shoulder coil in conditioned recoil of the crossbow.
He dug the butt of his crossbow into the ground and loaded another fletch into the slot, looking over at Marcine as she grabbed onto Sophia's shirt collar, pulling the child to her and firing a shot into the forehead of a Walker coming towards them. It slumped at her feet and she kicked it aside, firing into the skull of another Walker and pushing the child into the arms of her mother that was hysterical.
Marcine looked around for him, finding him a ways behind her with a sigh of relief. She jogged over to him and pressed herself against his side as he fired another arrow.
"Maybe I shouldn't have left," she said.
He reloaded, waiting for a chance at another Walker. "Wouldn' make a difference."
She shook her head. "They would have had someone who wasn't so hysterical over their children," Marcine sighed.
He shook his head and pulled out his pistol. "No."
She looked up at him then sighed, jogging off towards Lori and Carl, making sure they were ok. Daryl unloaded a bullet into one Walkers skull, finding it to be the last one. He looked up as the younger blonde - Amy? - approached his side, blood dotted up her side and a fire poker in her hand. She gave him a small nod and jogged off, leaving him to realize she had just killed one that he hadn't seen coming for him.
Daryl walked over to the closest Walker and pressed his boot against its forehead, jerking out the arrow and moving to the next. Marcine was pulling the one farthest from him out and when Daryl looked up he noticed a pair of eyes on her rear end flailing in the air.
T-Dog caught his eyes and looked away immediately while Daryl growled and stomped over to Marcine, grabbing her by her elbow and forcing her upright. She blinked in a daze, confused obviously by his sudden attack and then followed his narrowed eyes over at T-Dog, who was making it a point to look at anything but them.
A look of distaste and distrust settled over her pretty face and she pressed herself more against Daryl, fingers curling over his chest.
"I want to go to the tent," she muttered, pulling her arm out of his grasp.
He nodded and let her walk ahead of him, following behind her closely. She was his, what didn't they get about that? No other man was allowed to look at her that way, especially in front of him. That was a death wish, but they had all just suffered together so he wouldn't do anything.
Yet.
He ducked into the tent behind her, placing his crossbow against the shitty table he had made in the corner before he fell down onto his bedroll, rolling his back to her. He heard her moving around and rolled his head back a little, opening one eye as she moved her jeans over the swells of her hips.
He raised a brow to it but did nothing, just watched her bare ass flaunted in front of him. Did she think he wouldn't see? Or did she care anymore? It seemed like she knew who she belonged to so she had to know he would see. . .
"We're leaving. . ." she muttered, dropping her shirt on the tent floor.
He grumbled and watched the silhouette of her right breast against the side of the tent. "Why ya say that?"
She turned to him, one arm covering her breasts and she crouched down, tugging on his arm for him to sit up. "Because," she started, using her free hand to work on the buttons of his shirt. "Rick wants to get to the CDC, see if there are people there working on a cure."
Daryl grunted and let her tug his shirt off of him. "There ain't no God damn cure."
She shrugged and stood, pulling on his shirt with her back to him. She finished the top button and slid down to the spot at his side, pressing herself against his side. She was so damn hot, like she had a fever but she seemed fine; could just be like his mama was, always hot.
"Rick has hope," she murmured.
"Hope is a dangerous thing."
Marcine bit her lip and nodded, closing her eyes. "You stink."
He rolled his eyes then sighed, staring at her circles surrounding her eyes. "You sick?"
She opened her dark eyes and stared up at him for a moment. "No, no why?"
He shook his head and closed his own eyes, reaching up to place a hand against the side of her head. "You wanna follow em?"
"Why do you care about my opinion?"
"Tryin ta be nice."
He heard her sigh. "I don't know. . .yeah I guess. Just to see if there is possibly a cure to this. . .whatever it is."
There was no cure, there would never be a cure to this thing. It was a plague, it would weed itself out or grow.
Daryl knew it would only grow from where it was. There weren't many people left already and it had only been a couple of months. He and Merle had seen whole camps wiped out, dozens, since this thing started. They had been at the helm of it all, helping kill who needed to be killed, and kill those who didn't need to be killed. The only thing Daryl had not participated in was the rapes.
That was all Merle's genius plan. He wanted poon and he got it, viciously.
Daryl had already seen plenty of women get raped before Merle started it, starting with his mother. He and Merle weren't the only ones in the house that got physical abuse. He had walked in a many of times when his mother was saying no, was begging for his father to stop, and her cries went unheard. He loved his mother, more than he would ever let on. She was a real mother when they weren't dirt poor, when Merle was fourteen and Daryl was six.
He remembered saying goodbye to his mom on the front porch on his way to kindergarten, remembered her telling him she loved him every morning no matter how big of a brat he was.
And then his dad got his claws into her and she gave up on life.
A cold hand laid across his chest and his eyes snapped open, hearing Marcine's deep, even breathes against his ear. He sighed and ran a hand over his face, wishing she hadn't taken his shirt.
She couldn't see the scars, she just couldn't.
He may not be Prince Fucking Charming, he may have hit her and yelled at her, been rough and teased her, but he honestly wanted to keep that from her. He wanted to keep it from everyone.
"Daryl?"
He jumped; hwe thought she was asleep. "Wha'?"
She breathed in deeply. "Jus wanted to make sure it was you."
"Who else would it be?"
She shivered a little. "It just. . .it didn't feel like you for a minute."
"What do ya mean?"
She sighed, running her hand across his chest and stomach for a moment. "You just. . .you felt so smooth for a moment. . .I thought you were a million different people. But it's you now and I'm tired."
He looked at her hair through the dim light of the lamp in the tent and rolled his head to the side.
"Sure."
Marcine grunted, hefting the Walker body over her shoulder, and abruptly dropped it into the grave at her feet.
She arched her back in discomfort and swayed side to side, grabbing the shovel and digging the end into the ground.
They had been filling graves all morning.
Marcine watched Daryl's shoulders and biceps flex as he poured dirt into one of the graves, admiring the view until a smiling face blocked it. Glenn held up the bottle of water and Marcine smiled a little, tossing the cap somewhere to her left; no sense in worrying about littering now.
"Thanks, Glenn," she said as water dribbled down her chin.
He smiled wider. "No problem, its just so hot out here I thought you would like some water, even luke warm water."
She chuckled and took a sip, waving Daryl over as he patted down the dirt atop a new grave. "Oh yeah this is fantastic," she passed the bottle to Daryl. "This it," she gestured to the grave she was preparing to fill.
Daryl nodded and wiped his brow, staring at Glenn with disapproving blue eyes. "What chu want?"
Glenn raised a scrawny brow at Daryl. "Uh. . .just bringing Marcine, and apparently you, some water. It's hot."
Daryl nodded and splashed Marcine with some water as she started to stare off into space. She blinked and glared at him, scooping up a mound of dirt to dump over the Walker body at the bottom of the pit. He seemed to snicker a little and did it again, taking the final sip and making her glare daggers.
"Fuck off Daryl Dixon," she muttered, shoveling another mound of dirt onto the Walkers serene face.
"With pleasure."
She glared over her shoulder at him then smiled at Glenn. "Can you go fetch Rick for me please dear?"
He stuttered and then nodded, turning around and walking off towards camp. Marcine smiled over at Daryl, seeing his eyes on the city, then her eyes followed. She knew what he was thinking about, Merle. She was thinking about him too, wandering if he was alive, if he was well. He had cut off his own hand, that was a stupid thing to do in the first place. He knew Daryl and Marcine would come for him the moment they got back to camp. Or did he?
"Fucking idiot," Daryl muttered.
Marcine nodded and looked over at him, eyes flitting across his face, and she smiled. "I think there's some form of hope at the CDC."
He snorted. "Still on about that?"
"Daryl, it might mean our survival. Yes, I am still on about it."
He looked down at her, brow scrunched in confusion. "Why are ya followin' me around?"
She blinked. "What do you mean?"
He shrugged. "Why ya stick wit me? Just been cruel and spiteful towards ya since you walked yer ass over to our side of camp."
She chewed on her lip a little and smiled, reaching up to throw her arms around his neck, purring against his chest. He arched a fuzzy eyebrow slowly at her, hands on her hips as she swayed them right and left. The amusement in her eyes annoyed him, but it seemed something else was rolling around in that deceivingly twisted noggin of hers. She was adapting to he and Merle fast, it was a bit disturbing, even to him.
"Daryl even after what you have done to me, which hasn't been much mind you, you are safe," she shook her head softly. "Just doing everything you have proves to me that you are the safest person in the group, probably anywhere right now. I haven't had safety since I was a kid and I like this. I like being safe."
He stared at her, long enough to make her uncomfortable under his gaze; he liked that. They looked over when they heard someone clear their throats. Rick stood to their right, staring down at the ground with his brow scrunched in confusion. Marcine let her arms drop down and Rick looked up again, looking rather tense and. . .scared. She didn't realize how predatory she was gazing at him, like she couldn't wait to. . .just do what she wanted to do with him.
"Glenn said you needed me," he said after a moment of silence passed.
Marcine nodded and pushed on Daryl's arm, a silent way to tell him to leave them alone. He nodded and glared at Rick, stomping past him and back towards camp. She watched him leave towards camp, teeth grinding tender flesh of her cheek.
"I wanted to talk to you about the CDC," she looked back over at him, squinting against the sun.
Rick sighed and sort of rolled his eyes. "I've been getting enough grief about this from Shane, alright? I don't need it from anyone else."
Marcine waved a hand at him. "Shut up Rick and let me talk. I wanted to know why you want to go there exactly. Do you think it's safe?"
He stared at her for a moment then scratched at the back of his head. "Well. . .yes. I mean, if there's a possibility for a cure they would be working on it there right? And that means the government, what's left of it anyway, will want to keep it as safe as possible. I think they have a military installation there, and possibly a cure, if not they are close."
Marcine swallowed thickly. "So you really have hope?"
He nodded. "Yeah. . .yeah I do."
Hope.
Daryl was right, it was a dangerous thing, but it was something they all needed right now.
Marcine smiled widely and took a step forward, holding out a hand to Rick, holding her other hand behind her back. He stared at her with wide eyes for a moment, obviously confused by her sudden display of affection towards him. He gave the smallest of smiles and took her long hand in his, giving it a firm shake and when they let each other's hands go Marcine placed both hands behind her back and smiled at him warmly.
He may have gotten Merle lost to them, he may have fucked everything up for her and Daryl, but Marcine wanted to like Rick. She hadn't known Merle for long, but she already knew what he was like and no doubt he was causing more harm than good. Rick had said he was shooting off of the building, drawing the attention of all of the Walkers in the area. That had sounded like Merle, too high to care about safety.
There was no other choice. No other God damn choice. And she certainly liked Rick more so than Shane. Shane seemed. . .something seemed off about Shane and it just didn't settle so well with Marcine.
Rick was a true born leader, Shane was a novice.
Of course, Marcine thought Daryl was a better leader than any of them. He was tough and bright, intimidating and everything that a leader should be. Then again, Marcine knew Rick could probably be that way too if he had enough experience.
"When do we leave then," she asked.
He shrugged. "Not sure, everyone needs a little rest after last night. . ." Rick shook his head. "Leaving was a bad idea."
Marcine would be offended if she wasn't already at terms with Merle's absence. "Yeah, it kind of was. But. . .Daryl and I would have left if we wouldn't have just went for closure."
Rick looked Marcine up and down. "Why do you stay by his side?"
Marcine laughed. "He just asked me the same question."
"And?"
She shrugged. She didn't want to give him the same answer she gave Daryl. He would never understand.
"I love Daryl. It's as simple as that. Haven't you ever done something you regret when you were angry Rick," she asked, referring to when Daryl had slapped her.
He smiled a little and nodded. "Yeah I guess so. . ."
Marcine nodded, even though this was a total lie. "Daryl already apologized to me. He was just angry, that was the first time he had done something like that to me."
Damn she was a liar. And Rick was buying it. He sighed and nodded. "Ok, I just don't. . .I don't want you to wind up like an abused housewife okay?"
Marcine laughed again. "Don't worry Rick, I'm fine. I also wanted to know if you needed us to do anything today, like go on a supply run or anything."
Ricks eyes lit up. "As a matter of fact I need a few people to check out this gas station up the road a ways. Glenn says it's far out and no one's had the chance to go check it out."
Marcine nodded and stuffed her hands into her pockets. "Yeah I think we could do that, I'll go tell Daryl right now and we'll head right out."
Rick placed a hand on her shoulder, oblivious to the way her shoulder tensed up. "Thank you, Marcine."
She smiled a little and breathed a sigh of relief when he removed his hand. "Rick it's no problem, really."
And it wasn't a problem. She didn't like Rick, but she didn't hate him. She thought he was stupid kind of. . .but no, he was a leader. This may have been a dangerous move, a risky move, going to the CDC, but Rick was right in every way what the outcomes could be. Marcine was for it, she wanted it to be okay. She wanted everything to be okay. She wanted this to all be over with.
She grabbed onto Daryl as she reached their tent, pressing her lips against his tan, dusty shoulder. He raised a brow at her, his hands coated in squirrel blood; oh so romantic.
"What," he grumbled.
She tugged on his arms a little. "Come on, we're going on a run."
"Where," he let her drag him towards his truck, crossbow on his shoulder.
"Rick said there's a store no one's been to yet. Let's go," she opened the driver's door and pushed him towards it.
She skipped around to the other side, pistol in her back pocket, and jumped in as he started the truck. She watched the eyes trailing after them as they backed up and started down the road, her fingers lacing with Daryl's on the stick shift. He didn't squeeze her hand like he had back at the subdivision, just continued down the road as though she wasn't touching him at all.
"Why did ya volunteer us fer this?"
Marcine looked over at Daryl. "Because I wanted to get away from the camp," she looked out the window at the trees that blurred past them. "It's so damn depressing there."
"Every where's depressing."
Marcine shrugged. "I guess I just want to live in denial a little bit longer."
They sat in silence the rest of the drive, Marcine over thinking everything in her head while Daryl tapped a tune against the steering wheel. She looked over at him occasionally, saw his brow creased in confusion and something else, but Marcine didn't really care. She pulled her hand away from his and placed it with her other one in her lap, absentmindedly playing with her long nails.
"I wonder if mom is alive," she mused, looking out the window again; she hadn't really meant to say that aloud.
"Didn' ya say she was crazy," so he was going along with it? What a trooper.
Marcine nodded. "She was
Daryl snorted, turning onto a dusty paved road. "High society in Atlanta…"
Marcine chuckled. "Yeah, she was always a little. . .off. She refused to let me or my sister get to know the only family we had - from her side. Said they hated her and were too religious for her taste pallet. . .she used to watch those shows like Dateline and Forensic Files for days at a time, I swear she had a murder journal. Like all of these methods of killing or maybe it was the way some serial killers like Ted Bundy killed. . .I don't know, it was weird. Sherri started begging me to let her move in when I left for the city."
"Sherri?"
"My sister," she smiled. "My little sister. . .scared of her own mother though, I mean how does that even happen," she shook her head in a bitter manner. "Some times I feel like I get like that. . .all wrapped up in some kind of crazy shit. Like I'm just gonna end up like my mother. . ."
"Cus ya won't let me go."
Marcine looked over at Daryl, feeling the truck give a jerk as they stopped in front of the gas station. "No Daryl," she sighed.
He nodded and kicked open his door. "Yeah, all because you wouldn't go on like we told ya ta do the moment ya came into camp. Now you're like us. . .like your mother," at least what she aspired to be.
He and Merle had done the exact shit, believe it or not. Well, Daryl did - had to learn how the legacies didn't get caught, why they got caught - so he and Merle wouldn't get caught.
Marcine swallowed and looked down. She could sit there and deny him, he was right though, but she didn't want to blame him. Sure she was his partner now, but she did honestly want to be with Daryl. It's not like they could be arrested now, it gave her some sort of high knowing she could basically do whatever she wanted.
Marcine shook her head. "It doesn't matter Daryl," she reached over and placed her hand on his knee, giving it a squeeze. "I want to be with you Daryl, I don't care anymore. Maybe we can change."
Daryl shook his head and stepped out of the truck. "No, I can't change, an' you helped Merle with that woman. . .neither of us can change."
Marcine nodded and stepped out of the truck as well, looking up at the gas station. "What do you think we need?"
They started walking towards the gas station, Daryl looking around while Marcine stalked ahead, fingers curled around the pistol in her back pocket.
"Food, gas is gone. Get anything else ya want really."
Marcine nodded but he was already gone, so she walked inside, weapon out, and kept her eyes up above the shelves. She could handle a Walker with her own hands, she didn't need a gun for them, but if there was a human in here. . .she had a fifty/fifty chance she would be ok. She grabbed an old basket from by the door and started tossing what food items she could find, chuckled as she stuffed sweets into the basket. She didn't want to share any of those with anyone in the group, which was a bit of a childish act but. . .
She placed the now full basket by the door and grabbed another, going back for miscellaneous items they needed that no one had managed to get. Batteries, flashlights, bathing essentials she wanted to hang on to for as long as possible. She stared at a few small, thin boxes and bit her lips, looking around before she slipped a few into the bottom of the basket. Just in case, she muttered in her head and went to the feminine aisle.
"You got everything?"
She looked up and over to Daryl, who was looking at the door, then sighed. "Yeah I guess so. Still, you should make a sweep just in case while I get this stuff out to the truck."
Daryl nodded and slung himself, quite literally, into the store and started going through the aisles slowly and skeptically. He picked up a few stray items she didn't see, but Marcine didn't bother with that and poured everything into bags, jogging out to the truck. She opened her door and stuffed everything into the she free space in front of her seat, looking up when se heard something behind her.
Just a Walker.
She grabbed the knife in the door compartment and jogged forward, driving the grated knife into the Walkers forehead. It gurgled and slumped to the ground as she jerked the knife out, landing on one of her boots. She jerked herself back and wiped the knife off on her jeans, walking back to the truck.
Daryl tossed a small bag in the back of the bed and jerked his chin at her. Marcine nodded, sliding into the passenger seat while he started the truck, pulling away from the gas station.
"Anywhere else we could go that you could think of," Marcine asked.
He swallowed thickly and leaned over, reaching is hand to hook into her thigh. It sent a chill through her thighs and up her stomach, making it clench and unclench as she looked over at him, eyes glazed but fearful.
It took a split second and she lurched at him, his left hand cocking the seat back as her lips attacked him, hands shaking around his face. He growled against her bottom lip and his hands roamed in a rough pressure down her hips and around her thighs, kneading her ass and making Marcine groan and crane her neck up.
His teeth plucked at her throat, pulling her hard against the bulge in his jeans.
She was trembling against him, eyes sealed tight but her hands were still and sure as she reached between them. Her hand massaged the strain against his zipper and Daryl groaned, hips bucking up against hers once before he heard the crackle of the zipper going down.
"Jesus fuck," he growled as she teased him out of his jeans, a devilish smirk to her face. "Need ta hurry the fuck up," he snapped and slapped her ass.
Marcine gasped and yelped, jerking when her head hit the roof of the truck. She grumbled and continued to palm him in a teasing manner, his fingers popping the button of her own jeans. After some intense panting and yelped curses, an abrupt kick of the leg, Marcine finally settled herself against him; jeans discarded in her seat. Her eyes ran up his chest and his throat, to his hooded eyes and parted lips that twitched when she stroked her hand up him languidly.
Marcine rolled her hips, heat rubbing against his shaft in a way that seemed to annoy him, but she didn't really care. She chewed on her lip a little as she strained on her thighs, hovering over him for just a second before she began to ease down around him.
Her eyes fluttered closed and her head rolled on her shoulders as her heat enveloped him. Daryl groaned and bruised her hips as she reflexively clenched around him, the feel nearly silky.
Her hips met his and she stilled, cheeks flushed and a heat spreading over the back of Marcine's neck. His fingers loosened around her hips and Daryl ran his hand up her stomach, grasping one of her breasts through the fabric of her shirt and drawing a breathy moan from her lips.
"Move," he ordered and her eyes opened to him, her tongue snaking out against her bottom lip.
When she moved, he moaned and she relished the sound, her own sigh of pleasure coming from her lips though her thighs already ached. It'd been far too long. . .and he felt just right, heavy and full inside of her; her groin ached.
Her breath hitched and climbed as she stroked down on him, the small space becoming humid in their efforts. Daryl grabbed the back of her thighs and began to move her faster against him, arching up and pulling her lips against his. Her fingers danced around his collar bone and his neck, breath panting and squeaking as she slowly began to come undone around him. The sounds were far from modest and it only seemed to make the warmth pooling in her stomach grow and grow until it burst.
Marcine ached to throw her head back but the roof of the car prevented that, but hearing his groans against her chest were enough. Her walls clenched and drug out around him, making everything increasingly sensitive but she wasn't complaining; it was a fantastic kind of raw.
She panted as she relaxed, leaning back delicately against the steering wheel as she tried to catch her breath. "We're gonna have to do this again," she said in a breath.
He snorted. "I have a few ideas. . ."
There was a beat of silence.
"We also really need to get back to camp."
