Disclaimer: I do not, nor will I ever own The Walking Dead or anything affiliated with said series.
Daryl Dixon was no stranger to terrible situations; he'd been in more than a few throughout the years and with his luck figured there'd be plenty more to come. But few of them had ever made his heart stop so completely as when he'd woken up in that strange room and Chelsea had been nowhere to be found.
Memories of Beth and how he'd failed to save her assaulted him almost immediately, bringing to life the very real possibility that he might be too late to save Chelsea as well. That thought terrified him more than he cared to admit so he stood up and made sure that Aaron was still in fact breathing -he'd seen his chest rising earlier but it never hurt to double check- before moving to wander around the room because he was quite certain if he sat still any longer he'd go mad.
A short time later a groan alerted him to the fact that Aaron had finally woken up and he turned towards him in relief. "Ya alright?" he asked as he watched the other man shift into a sitting position.
"Head's a bit sore, but other than that I'm fine. Chelsea?"
Daryl shook his head. "Was gone when I woke up."
"How about you, are you okay?" When all he received in response was a half shrug Aaron tried again. "Anything bleeding or broken?"
"Ain't nothin' wrong with me."
"Good." Aaron was silent for a moment as he watched Daryl move about restlessly and then added, "She'll be okay. I doubt there's much that can take that woman down."
He wanted to believe that, truly he did, but Daryl couldn't stop the thoughts running rampant through his mind about what might be happening to her. And since he had no clue who had them, or how many of them there were, the images in his head kept getting worse.
"I'm sure she's fine," Aaron reiterated as he watched Daryl continue to pace back and forth across the room. "She can take care of herself."
Giving no indication that he'd even heard him Daryl continued his movements. He'd already searched the room for anything useful, twice, but still couldn't manage to make himself stay still. A part of him was well aware of the fact that wasting his energy like this was a very bad idea, but he felt like a caged animal and every fiber of his being seemed to be screaming at him that he needed to do something, now.
Not that there was much he could do mind you, he'd already tried breaking down the door and there wasn't a lock on the inside to pick, but that didn't stop him from feeling on edge.
Hearing Daryl let loose what sounded like an angry growl Aaron decided he'd had enough and he got to his feet, moving so he was standing right in the other man's path. When it became clear that he wasn't going to stop Aaron pulled back his hand and slapped him across the face as hard as he could.
Daryl's head jerked to the side and it took him a second to realize what the sound had been, though the sudden blooming of pain over his cheek helped immensely. "The hell was that for?" he snapped, turning narrowed eyes on his companion.
"Good, seems I've finally gotten your attention."
When Daryl bared his teeth and clenched his hands tightly at his side Aaron offered him a small apologetic smile. "Sorry about that, but you weren't doing anyone any good wearing a hole through the floor like that. I need you here with me if we're going to get out of this."
Opening his mouth to yell at him, though for what he had no idea, Daryl closed it without a word. "Sorry," he grunted a few minutes later.
Glad to see that they were both on the same page finally Aaron waved off the apology. "No worries, but now that you're back how about we get to work busting out of here."
"Ain't gonna happen," Daryl muttered. "These guys're smart. Nothin' in here ain't bolted down, and no lock. We ain't leavin' till they come get us."
Aaron had come to the same conclusion himself and was pleased to see that despite his apparent lack of focus Daryl had actually done a fairly thorough check of the place. He was, however, a bit disappointed when the other man failed to offer anything else, like say a plan to take the men out when they opened the door or something.
Perhaps he was still a bit out of it.
"When they open that door you be waitin' just behind it. I'm gonna be on this side and when the first one steps in I'll shove 'im to ya. Ya take 'im out and I'll deal with the next one."
Then again, maybe not.
Nodding his head Aaron took his place by the door with a small smile on his face. He'd had something similar in mind but it was nice to see Daryl focused on something other than the thoughts inside his head. Not that he could blame the man, he'd taken quite a liking to Chelsea as well and if anything happened to her he'd never forgive himself, but thinking about the worst case scenario wasn't going to help anyone so he shoved those thoughts aside and brought himself back to the task at hand.
They didn't have to wait long for their captors to arrive and true to his word the second the door opened Daryl was pulling the man through it and pushing him in Aaron's direction. Unfortunately the man had expected something of the sort to happen and he ducked down before Aaron could grab him and wound up ramming his shoulder into Aaron's stomach.
Daryl heard Aaron's pained gasp but didn't have time to dwell on it as instead of one other man coming through the door he was faced with two. Not that he had a problem taking on two guys at once, he'd done it plenty of times before, but when one of them fired a warning shot a few inches from his head he did the smart thing and backed away slowly with his hands raised in front of him.
A quick glance showed him that Aaron was fine, a bit winded but he was standing on his own, so he turned his attention back to the man who's gun was still pointed in his direction.
"Now, now, there's no need to look so disappointed," the bald one wielding the gun said with a grin. "You'll get your chance for blood soon enough. For now though why don't you both be good little boys and come with me. I'd hate to have to do something that'll give you a disadvantage, it's no fun if you're not in top form, but make no mistake I will use force if necessary."
Daryl and Aaron shared a look, both saying without words that they'd bide their time and wait for a better moment to attack, and nodded curtly. The two other men took that as their cue that is was safe to approach and soon they both had their hands tied together behind their back and were being led out of the room at gunpoint.
"As I was saying," the one who'd spoken earlier began as they made their way down a dimly lit hallway. "We here like to think of ourselves as modern day gladiators, fighting for glory and all that. The arena is our source of entertainment, a rite of passage, hell, it's where our leadership is decided."
"I'm telling you all this because I want you to understand what an honor it is for you to be allowed to fight in it. Normally we'd have put a bullet in your head and left you on the side of the road, but since you brought us quite a little beauty the boss has graciously decided to allow you to die an honorable death."
Aaron looked appalled at that and Daryl shook his head with a snort. "What, ya expect us ta thank ya?"
The other man barked out a laugh at that. "Well, I suppose that'll depend on how decent you are in a fight. It's kill or be killed in the arena and no one much cares who comes out the victor. If you happen to be the last man standing a thank you wouldn't go amiss, and if not . . . well, I guess it won't really matter at that point will it."
They'd come to a stop next to a metal door while he'd been talking and one of the other men pushed it open and ushered them outside as soon as he was finished with his little speech.
Thankfully the sun wasn't too bright as his eyes had already adjusted to the semi-darkness of the hall, but it still took Aaron a moment or two before he could see clearly. Which was why he hadn't seen Daryl dive in for an attack as soon as the second man stepped through the door.
Daryl thought he'd timed it perfectly, having seen the door approaching and knowing that's where they were headed. With 'sir talks-a-lot' in the lead, followed by Aaron and the man with the dark shaved head, he figured he just had to wait until the other three were outside before making his move. Even with his hands bound like they were it wouldn't be too difficult to take down one guy.
So he'd waited for Aaron's captor to lead him out and then tackled the man next to him against the wall. Knowing he wouldn't have much time his next move had been to drop the man to the ground so he could try and get the door jammed shut before the others realized what was going on.
A well placed kick to the knees had the man falling to the floor, one final kick to the side of the head ensuring that he'd stay there, and Daryl spun around towards the door . . . just barely managing to avoid the full impact of the club that had been swung at him.
It connected with his temple, not hard enough to knock him out but enough to have him seeing stars for a few seconds, and he stumbled backwards a couple of steps as the blonde man who'd hit him stalked forward and grabbed him roughly by the arm.
The next thing he knew he was being shoved down a walkway of some sort into a huge pit that smelled bad enough to make him gag. He followed after Aaron who looked to be as disgusted as he was by the sights and smells surrounding them until they were forced to come to a stop at a dead end.
Between one breath and the next their captors had disappeared leaving them on their own inside the pit of death.
Aaron glanced up at the cheering crowd above them and a muttered, "Ah hell," fell from his lips as he spun in place slowly.
Seeing people excited for a brawl was nothing new to Daryl so he barely paid any attention to the screaming masses as he tried to come up with a plan to get them out of this mess. As his eyes scanned the surrounding area a slight change in the layout above him caught his eye and he found himself staring at an all too familiar face. "Chelsea," he breathed out.
It was a relief to see her in one piece and he would've called out to her if he hadn't seen the blood drain out of her face. He'd never seen her look that scared before and it took him a moment to realize that it was them she was worried about.
He'd been so thankful that she'd been unharmed he'd forgotten all about his current predicament, but it all came rushing back to him when Aaron hissed, "Daryl, get your head in the game!"
Turning to face him Daryl pulled up the mental map he'd made on the way in and jerked his chin in the direction they'd come from. "This place is set up like a maze," he said in a rush. "Lots a places ta hide, but no real way out."
Aaron nodded in agreement. "I noticed. So, any thoughts?"
"Ya head back out that way and I'll go opposite. Ain't gonna take 'em long if we stick together."
"That's it? That's the plan?"
Aaron didn't get an answer because before the words had finished leaving his mouth Daryl had already taken off running. With a shake of his head he took off after him, turning left when he reached the first pathway and ducking around a piece of rock that had lodged itself partway into the dirt wall next to him.
He could hear footsteps approaching from behind him so he darted down the path on his right and nearly ran right into a rock that was almost as tall as he was. It wasn't very wide and he'd been about to head around the left side of it when he caught sight of the decaying bodies in the opposite direction. Now getting up close and personal with a corpse wasn't exactly his idea of fun, but if he was lucky he'd throw his pursuer off his tracks long enough to find something to free himself with.
Diving into the pile of broken and twisted limbs he held his breath as the man he'd heard tailing him rounded the corner. The other man paused just long enough to give the area a cursory glance before taking off down another path and Aaron allowed himself a moment to relax.
A few seconds later several of the people from the edge of the arena began shouting and pointing in his direction and he shoved the disgusting body parts away and jumped to his feet. By the time the other man retraced his steps he was long gone.
He managed to avoid his next attacker by sheer luck, he'd accidentally slipped on some slimy substance he preferred not to think about and wound up sliding partway underneath a pile of rocks. That in and of itself wouldn't have been enough, but there'd also been a severed head lying a few feet away which he'd made good use of.
One tends to not look too closely at a body that's covered in dirt and grime if the head is sitting partially on one shoulder and facing the wrong direction, and this man was no different.
After that is was simply good timing and being quick on his feet that allowed him to remain ahead of his pursuers. Well, that and all the little hiding places he managed to find in and amongst the rocks and corpses.
Things had been going so smoothly for him that he'd started to think everything was going to be okay, which was of course when his luck changed.
Aaron had been in the middle of deciding on the next direction he was going to head when a squat man with a long graying beard stepped out from between two boulders right next to him. He didn't even see the weapon until after it had cut through his sleeve, but he certainly felt the pain it left behind.
Watching the grin on the other man's face as he held the hunting knife up to his mouth so he could lick the line of blood off its edge made Aaron's stomach lurch. These people were barbarians in every sense of the word and he found himself moving without thought.
Throwing himself at the other man Aaron managed to shove his shoulder into his chest with enough force to knock him back against the rocks behind him. The man let out a pained cry at the hit which was almost immediately cut off by a crunching sound when his head crashed into the pile.
By the time Aaron got to his feet it was apparent the man was dead and he lowered his head in a silent prayer before fumbling around in search of the knife that had fallen to the ground.
A short time later he was back on his feet, a look of triumph on his face as he twisted the blade around carefully so he could cut away at the ropes binding his wrists behind his back.
Shaking his arms to get the blood flowing properly again he moved the knife in front of him at chest height and went off in search of his next opponent.
ooooo
While Aaron had managed to avoid fighting for the first few minutes in the arena Daryl hadn't been quite so lucky. Shortly after leaving the other man behind he found himself face to face with a bald man whose head was covered in tattoos, which wouldn't have been too bad had he not also had a knife mere inches from Daryl's heart.
Years of fighting, both friendly brawls and not, had honed his instincts and his body twisted to the side of its own accord when the other man lunged forward. Continuing the motion he spun on his heel and wound up behind his opponent; kicking out and clipping him on the upper thigh. It wasn't enough to do any real damage but he was certain the other man felt it if his string of curses was anything to go by.
Without waiting to see what he was going to do next Daryl bolted down the nearest pathway, both to put some distance between them as well as lead him to a spot more suited to taking him down.
Two turns later and he'd found the perfect spot, an outcropping of rocks that stuck out just far enough to hide the bulk of his body. Now he simply had to wait for the other man to round the corner.
Holding his breath he kept himself as still and silent as possible as he listened for the man who was following him. It didn't take long for the squelching of his boots in the slightly wet ground to make its way to Daryl's ears and he prepared himself for what was to come.
"Come out come out wherever you are," the man sang as he poked his head around the rocks in search of his target. He thrust his knife forward assuming it would meet flesh and was momentarily stunned when it hit nothing but air. "The hell?"
Daryl had crouched down when he'd heard the other man approaching and as soon as the knife rounded the rocks he'd leapt up and rammed his head into the other man's chin. When he stumbled back hissing in pain, the knife falling from his grasp as he cupped his jaw, Daryl spun his leg out and caught the man's ankles causing him to drop to the dirt with a grunt.
Giving the stunned man a smirk he kicked him in the head, repeatedly and quite viciously, until he finally stopped moving.
With a bit of shuffling around he managed to get the knife the other man had dropped into his hands and was soon a free man. Well, at least not a bound one anyway.
Tucking the knife into the waistband of his jeans he bent down over the man's body and began searching him in hopes of finding something useful. Not surprisingly there wasn't anything on him other than an empty carton of smokes and Daryl was just about to stand up and head off in search of his next target when he heard something on the wall near him shift.
One of the most important skills in hunting is the ability to appear harmless to your prey. Sure you could do the 'hide yourself away for long periods of time waiting until something happened to stumble upon you' thing, but to be a truly great hunter you had to be able to walk among your targets without them being any the wiser.
Now normally he was the one doing the sneaking about, however, since the man nearby had already taken on the role of 'hunter' Daryl figured he may as well play the role of 'prey' for the time being. At least until the man made his move. Then they'd find out who the real hunter was.
So he kept himself bent over the body before him, his hands absently moving about to keep up appearances, while his ears remained focused on the sounds above him waiting for the moment to attack.
He heard the man shift once again and was ready to leap to the side when a terrified scream was let loose. Every head in the area, including his, looked up in search of where it had come from leaving the arena deathly silent.
And then Daryl watched as the man sitting next to Chelsea slapped her across the face and started yelling at her and suddenly the noise was back. Even the man who'd been about ready to jump down and spear him with his sword was cheering at his leader's display, which as sickening as it was gave Daryl just enough time to flip the knife in his hand around and send it flying at the bastard who'd dared to raise a hand to his friend.
ooooo
Chelsea's cheek burned and she was fairly certain her lip was bleeding from the hit and as she continued to work her hands free from the rope, all the while ignoring the man's obnoxious voice as he continued to yell at her, she decided the first thing she was going to do when she got loose was return the favor.
"Prize or not," the boss man's voice turned to a growl and she was brought out of her thoughts. "Pull that shit again and I'll slit yer throat."
She was trying to decide whether to insult or spit on him when something flying towards them caught her eye a second before he fell backwards with a pained cry.
Blinking at the sudden disappearance of his face it took her a moment to realize what had happened, when she spotted the blade sticking out of his thigh though she couldn't help but laugh. "And here I thought you were supposed to be tough," she said mockingly as the rope loosened up enough for her to slip one of her hands partway out. "But all it takes is an itty bitty knife and you're down for the count. It's a wonder anyone follows you at all."
If Miles was here he'd slap her silly for egging on yet another deadly foe, but at least this time she was doing it for reasons other than it being fun. Not that she wasn't thoroughly enjoying herself mind you, but that wasn't actually the point of her comments. No, the real reason she was pushing his buttons was . . .
Narrowing his eyes the man pushed himself to his feet and hobbled over so he was standing directly in front of Chelsea's chair. Placing his hands on the arms of the seat he leaned over until he was nearly nose to nose with her and hissed, "Damn the rules, I'm going to take you back to my place and spend the rest of the week making you wish you were dead!"
. . . so he'd get close enough so she could grab the knife, now that she'd managed to get her arm free.
Taking a deep breath she reached her hand out and quick as a flash pulled the knife from his leg and slashed it across his stomach. When he stumbled back she cut the rest of the ropes binding her and then dove at his hunched form causing him to land flat on his back with her crouched over him, the blade pressed snugly against his throat.
It had all happened so fast that the men closest to the raised platform they were on didn't even have a chance to stand up and Chelsea rolled off to the side so she was less of a target when they reached for their guns.
"Unless you want to get filled with lead I'd tell your boys to back off," she ordered, pressing the blade deeper into his skin so it was drawing blood.
For a second she'd been worried that he would keep his mouth shut but self preservation won out in the end and he barked out, "Put those down you idiots!"
Everyone had stopped to watch the scene play out, including those in the arena and she was pleased to see that Aaron and Daryl were still standing. Although unless she did something soon they likely wouldn't be for very long.
"Alright, here's the deal," she began. "You're going to let my friends and me go or I'm going to cut you into little pieces and toss you down at the crowd. Are we clear?"
The glare he sent her way had her pushing the knife even deeper, only releasing the pressure when he muttered, "Yeah, clear."
"Good, now tell them to let them out."
With a glare he called out, "Play time's over, everybody out of the arena." And then as an afterthought added, "And I want those two prisoners brought to me."
No one seemed to question the order but Chelsea still kept her eye out for anything suspicious as the men in the arena led Daryl and Aaron back out so they were standing on the outskirts of the crowd. When they slowly began making their way around the pit to join her it became apparent that things were going a bit too smoothly.
There was no way this group was that loyal to the big oaf next to her, it just didn't make sense. And then she saw the subtle shifting around her and it all became clear. They weren't going to let them go they were simply putting the odds more in their favor.
While the guys had been in the arena they'd had a set amount of opponents, two of which they'd already dealt with, but out here every single one of the men was now a threat. And she'd led them right into the lion's den.
Cursing under her breath at her stupidity she rammed her fist into the boss' smirking face when he started to laugh next to her. Two more hits shut him up for the time being and she got to her knees while calling out, "Run, now!"
Her two companions didn't need to be told twice and they bolted in opposite directions at her command. Daryl plowed into the first man he came across, shoving him to the ground and at the same time stealing the gun he'd been in the process of pulling out of its holster.
It didn't take him long to empty the clip, though only about half of the bullets hit their mark, and he was bending over to grab another gun when he found himself being pushed out of the way and heard a scream behind him.
"Lucy!" a woman's voice cried and when he turned around he saw a young woman holding the body of another slightly older woman and crying into her hair. It didn't take long for him to figure out what had happened and with a snarl he scooped up the gun he'd been going after and let off two shots at the man who'd fired at him.
Knowing he couldn't do anything for the sobbing woman at the moment Daryl continued on his path taking out every single one of the men that he came across.
Aaron had had a much harder time commandeering a weapon as the three men closest to him seemed to be rather attached to theirs and he threw himself to the ground when they opened fire. Thankfully they weren't very good shots or he would've been dead already, but since he had nowhere to run and could only roll around on the ground so much before they started to hone in on him it was becoming apparent that he probably wasn't going to make it out of this alive.
And then the man closest to him dropped, a knife sticking out of his chest and he glanced up to see Chelsea standing over the body of their leader with a relieved look on her face. Giving her a grateful nod he sprinted over to the dead man and grabbed the two handguns he'd been carrying before turning around and shooting at the other two men.
They both fell a short time later and he took off after a small group of men who were trying to wrangle nearly a dozen women into the nearby warehouse.
Since the two men were armed and able to take care of themselves Chelsea turned her attention back to her own situation and frowned. Three men were making their way up the ladder at the back of the platform with matching looks of excitement on their faces and she realized that by saving Aaron she'd basically just signed her death warrant.
And then she saw the first one lick his lips as he stepped onto the wood planks to join her and suddenly death didn't sound all that bad.
"Thanks for taking out the boss for us," the redhead said with a leer. "It makes it that much easier for the boys and I to take over."
Chelsea waved him off. "No problem, glad I could help. Now if you don't mind I've got places to be so I'll just get out of your hair."
"Not so fast," the dark haired man behind him grinned and ran his eyes over her body slowly. "I think ya deserve somethin' for all yer help."
"I'm good, really."
The last man made it to the top, his shaggy blonde hair nearly covering his eyes, and added, "Ain't nothin' we got more 'an enough ta keep ya satisfied fer months, and bein' the generous fellas that we is we'd be glad ta take care a ya."
Having heard more than enough Chelsea considered her options and could only come up with one. Looking from the platform to the ground she figured it to be about ten or so feet up. Too high to jump without possibly breaking something, but if one had something to cushion their fall . . .
With a grin she raised her hand and pointed her finger at the dark haired man in the middle. "Eenie . . ." she began, her finger moving over to the blonde. "Meenie . . ." At this she swung her finger to the redhead and at his confused look her grin widened. "Miney . . ." He finally caught on but it was too late, by then she was already running at the blonde man with a cry of, "Moe!"
There's nothing like the sense of freedom you feel when you're flying through the air and Chelsea felt like time was standing still as she propelled herself and the man she'd run into off the edge of the platform. The screams coming from the man beneath her barely registered as they plummeted to the ground and she closed her eyes as she waited for the impact.
ooooo
Daryl had been so focused on taking out every man he came across that he'd forgotten about anything, anyone, else. And then he'd seen a body go over the side of the lookout tower thing where Chelsea had been and it all came rushing back. The large, obviously male body fell quickly and he sucked in a much needed breath. For a second he'd been worried that Chelsea had been the one to fall.
Just before the body hit the ground his eyes widened and he cried out, "No!"
Because of the angle he'd missed it at first, but there had been a second body. One that had been much smaller and wearing a very familiar outfit.
Putting a bullet between the eyes of the last man he'd taken down so he wouldn't have to deal with his corpse later he jumped over the dead man and dodged several groups of cowering women as he raced to where the bodies had landed.
His steps slowed to a crawl when he was close enough to make out the blood pooling beneath them and his breath caught in his throat. Falling to his knees he looked at the lifeless bodies before him and felt as though his heart had been ripped out of his chest.
He'd been too late.
. . . again.