New Meanings To Old Words: Love

I know y'all hate these things…but seriously this can't be counted as a chapter… it's just a vignette. With a wee bit of plot movement at the end.

As always read, review and most of all enjoy!

~michelle

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except Callie and the crew of misfits (Danny, Miles, Jenna, Mike, Nina, Ben and Gracie).

Vignette: Whiskey Bent and Hell Bound

Danny's eyes shifted up and down the street twice before shifting to watch Hershel slowly push open the door to the bar. Hatland's he'd called it in that firm, quiet tone that Danny had gotten rather used to in the week or so that they'd been at the Greene farm. But as Danny followed close on the heels of the older man as he sifted through the dust and clutter that had been left behind in the desolate landscape of what had probably once been a wonderful saloon, he couldn't help but notice the weight that seemed to have hunched Hershel's usually strong and prideful shoulders.

Lifting his arm to catch the door before it slammed into him, Danny tilted his head to the side and smirked at Hershel's back as he slowly headed towards the end of the bar across from them. Letting out a small sigh and wiping the back of his free hand over his mouth Danny shifted inside, one last look behind him to make sure nothing was following before closing the door.

Danny's eyes roamed the area and he really couldn't help but smirk as he pushed off of the door he'd just closed and moved in on where Hershel was now standing near the bar at the far end.

"Stop me if you've heard this one," Danny started as he limped forward, his eyes roaming cautiously around even as a smirk played on his lips. "Two alcoholics walk into a bar at the end of the world…"

Hershel shifted his eyes over his shoulder to Danny and then rolled them away leaving Danny to chuckle a bit too loudly in the empty bar room. "C'mon," Danny said still chuckling and raising his hands to the air as Hershel continued to ignore him. Running his hand through his hair Danny continued to chuckle as he nodded and finally settled at the end of the bar. "Right…anyway. I know y'all live like it's fuckin' Mayberry 'round here and keep shit unlocked, but that just ain't really as safe as all that anymore. You checked this place out before?"

"No, but I know it has what I'm lookin' for," Hershel said as he shifted behind the bar grabbing a dusty bottle and a few glasses. Hershel sat back down at the bar as if he were a normal patron and began to open the bottle. Danny's lips firmed and his jaw clenched as he watched Hershel work the top off the bottle. Hershel spared a look up at Danny, the bottle held up ready to pour. "Were you lookin' for something else here?"

"Just a stickler for the rules," Danny said idly as he stepped back and gave the main room a once over. Hershel continued to watch him, not yet pouring the liquid into the glasses settled on the dirty bar before him. "Rule number three, always have a secondary method of egress." Danny smiled when Hershel lifted a questioning brow. "Glenn. Smart motherfucker that kid," Danny continued lifting a finger as Hershel shifted his eyes away.

"Boy's got eyes for my daughter," Hershel muttered towards his still empty glass as his hand played with the bottle next to it.

"Boy's got more than eyes for your girl, Hershel," Danny said chucklin' when the older man glared at him. "C'mon now," Danny said lifting a palm up to the air. "You didn't come here for no sugar-coated version of the truth. If that's what you wanted we coulda stayed back at the farm." Hershel continued to glare at him and Danny just shook his head. "I'm gonna check the back," Danny said sliding towards the door that lead to what he figured was the back store room. He felt Hershel's gaze on him but ignored the feel of the older man's eyes.

Or at least tried too. It wasn't until his hand landed on the doorknob that he closed his eyes and sighed.

"S'too much to hope that you're armed, huh?" Danny muttered as he half-turned back to Hershel. The old man raised a bushy fuckin' brow and set the bottle back to the bar placing his palms flat to the dirty surface. The look on his face had Danny stifling a chuckle as he was reminded of that chidin' fuckin' look his own father would send him when he'd mouthed off. Danny shook his head and turned around slipping his gun out of its place at the small of his back. "Here," Danny said handing out the gun to the still annoyed man at the bar.

Hershel glared at the gun in Danny's hand and after another beat of silence turned away and picked up his bottle of whiskey. Sighing and shaking his head Danny slammed the gun down on the bar beside Hershel's glass, holding his hand on top as Hershel's gaze swept over it again.

"I'm not expectin' you to play hero, Hershel," Danny muttered causing the man's gaze to slip to him. "But if you hear me fuckin' screamin' I'm not expectin' you to just lie down and let it come. You ain't that kinda man."

Danny let his hand fall back to his side and then limped his way back over towards the door to the back room. It wasn't until he turned the knob that he heard the low hoarse whisper of Hershel's voice reach his ears.

"You have no idea the type of man I am," Hershel said and when Danny turned back to look at him the old man was staring down at the liquid he'd just poured into his cup.

Danny gazed at the man at the bar for a brief second before letting his eyes drop back to his hand on the knob.

"Gonna be an interestin' fuckin' night," Danny muttered to himself as he turned the knob. His hand shifted to where he'd settled his knife at his hip and he slipped it out as the door opened.

Clenching his hand tight around the handle of his knife, he took in a deep breath and shifted his bad left leg forward a bit to take a tentative step into the lowly lit back room of the bar. The remaining sun outside cast low yellowed hues over the room, and had shadows jumpin' and playin' with his mind's eye as he walked further in.

It wasn't as if he hadn't cleared a place before; workin' through half-rotted Walkers as if it was nothin' at all. But it'd just been a while since he'd had to. And he hadn't ever done it alone before.

No, he'd always had Callie at his back before.

Always. Since this shit-storm started in that rundown fuckin' sheriff's station in Georgetown. She'd been there, at his back. Danny grimaced at the thought of what she was probably thinkin' 'bout his little decision to 'take a walk'. His eyes slipped back towards the bar room where Hershel was poised over a glass of whiskey, no doubt pourin' out one for Danny by now. Somethin' happened at that man's home. Somethin' horrible enough to knock that proud man off of the wagon.

Somethin' Danny hadn't been there to help stop. Been there to see. Been there to help with.

Danny cleared his throat and cracked his neck before plunging forward a bit more towards the now visible back door. Focusing his attention on his task instead of the shit spiralin' around in his head, he felt the gears click back into place. Shakin' his head he tightened his grip on his knife and snarled at his ass when he winced as he slipped further forward. The stitches in his side were pullin' like mad at this point, and his leg…well, fuck, he didn't even wanna think about his fuckin' leg.

Snarlin' a bit more he rounded a shelving unit and immediately stopped. His eyes flared wide as his nostrils picked up the faint familiar smell. Honestly, he felt like one of them undead fuckers the way he was able to smell it out; but the scent of death and decay was just so out of place in the musty back room of the bar that it couldn't not stand-out. Pivoting on his right foot and keeping his bad left leg slightly out in front of him so he could push off of his right without fallin' on his ass, he shifted just enough to catch sight of the lumberin' bastard makin' it's way towards him. With his hand twitching on his knife he bent his right leg, waiting for the right moment to push off. He knew with the way his body was actin' he was only gonna have one good shot at takin' the fucker out, and he wasn't gonna waste it.

The used-to-be-man made another lunging step towards him, its one remaining arm swingin' up and then fallin' lifelessly back to its body before repeatin' the motion. Danny grimaced as the growlin' thing got close enough for him to see that its remaining arm was held on by nothing more than sinew and a bit of muscle that apparently wasn't enough to keep it workin' properly.

"A'right, lefty," Danny muttered as he shifted his shoulders and bounced a bit on his right foot, gettin' ready to strike. "Now you don't gotta go home, but you sure as fuck can't stay here."

Danny trudged back into the main bar room and slammed the door to the back room shut behind him. Settlin' his back against the door he lifted the back of his now gore covered right hand to wipe over his brow, but at seein' the sight of all that sickenin' shit he thought better of it and just let his hand drop to his side. His eyes lifted then to see Hershel, settled snug as a fuckin' bug, up on that barstool same as he had been when Danny 'went to check the back'.

"Find what you were lookin' for?" Hershel asked shifting his eyes over to where Danny was still resting. Danny lifted an annoyed brow at the older man before sheathing his knife and lifting a chidin' finger to the older man. Hershel shook his head and looked back to his drink as Danny slowly limped his way to the other side of the bar.

Leaning heavily on his forearms and slumping over to stare down at his gun still resting where he'd left it on the bar Danny sighed. His eyes moved to his gore covered hands and he stared at them as he listened to Hershel swirl the liquid in his glass. Danny tried very hard to continue starin' at his hands, lookin' at that wreck of an appendage covered in disgustin' he didn't even know what. Tried very hard not to look at the glass slowly shifting between Hershel's fingers, or the one settled on the bar waiting for him only a fraction of an inch from his fingertips.

"It's so easy for you now isn't it?" Hershel's hoarse voice echoed out into Danny's ears and had his eyes lifting from his fingertips to the old man staring at his half empty glass. Hershel continued to stare at his glass as Danny stared at him. Hershel started to lift his glass to his lips before stopping and clarifying. "Killin' them? It's so easy for you."

"No," Danny said quietly, watching as Hershel stopped, the glass held just out of reach of his lips and stared at Danny. "It's never easy, Hershel. It's just necessary."

A beat of silence flowed between them and Hershel continued to hold Danny's eyes in an almost uncomfortable stare. Finally Hershel's jaw tightened and his eyes moved back to his glass a second he spoke again.

"Your man Shane opened my barn," Hershel said slowly movin' his glass closer to his lips. "He opened it, and your group took out the people inside. They did it easily, and they did it without remorse. Killed my friends and neighbors, my wife, and my son, without a thought or a hesitation," Hershel snarled at his glass before shifting his eyes to Danny and then back to his glass quickly. "Because it was deemed necessary."

"Jesus, Hershel, I'm-"

"You're girl," Hershel continued his eyes shifting from his glass back to Danny and holdin' once again. "The one you've all been searchin' for. She was inside. Jimmy put her there, or so he told me before I left." Hershel stopped and Danny lifted his left hand up to cup it over his suddenly dry mouth as he leaned heavily on his elbow. "Rick ended her existence in this world and sent her to the next. Her mother wailin' on the ground at his back," Hershel finished, again sighting his cup and finally draining it of its contents.

Danny's eyes closed and his fingers opened to allow his now wide open mouth to suck in a painful breath of air. His chest constricted as he breathed out and then in again, and he clamped his mouth shut in an effort to dull the throb of his broken and rapidly beatin' heart.

Sophia. Poor baby-girl Sophia.

And Carol.

God, Carol. Danny's hand worked back and forth over his mouth and he felt the tears wellin' slowly behind his closed lids. He opened his eyes wide and then blinked a few times to stop the rush of those tears from fallin'. Stopped them cold, and let his gaze slide over to that fuckin' glass only an inch away from his gore-covered right hand that had flattened out on the dirty bar.

"So Danny, would you like to tell me more about this new necessity in our lives?" Hershel asked in that calm gritty tone of his as Danny continued to stare at the full glass before him. Heavy silence settled around them broken again by the older man's crisp tones. "Drink up, Danny," the older man continued and Danny's eyes lifted to watch the man pour himself another glass. "Because while this may not be necessary, it is definitely easy. And I think we both deserve a bit of that."

"How long, son?" Hershel's throaty voice reached out moments later, soundin' much like Dale's had in those woods. Far away almost too distant to reach him.

Danny blinked his eyes, only now realizing that he'd been starin' at that fuckin' glass of whiskey since Hershel had told him to drink up. He blinked a few more times, shifting his eyes away from the amber liquid and his hands that had flattened on either side of the small glass, and over to Hershel. Again the old man was staring at his half full glass, watching the liquid swirl on the inside as he held it up to his red-rimmed eyes. Shifting his eyes around the room Danny wondered just how long they'd been sitting there. How long he'd been starin' at that glass just waitin' to take a drink.

Hershel's eyes shifted to Danny and Danny shook his head to clear it, the expression on his face obviously tellin' the older man that he didn't have a damn clue what he was askin'.

"How long have you been sober?" Hershel said more plainly, his bushy brow lifting. Danny shoulders slumped and he leaned heavily on his forearms again, his eyes shifting back to that glass up on the bar.

"Three months," Danny said quietly as his forefinger reached out to poke at the glass before him. "One hundred-twenty-two days. Or two-thousand-nine-hundred-twenty-eight hours. One-hundred-seventy-five-thousand, six-hundred-eighty minutes," Danny finished shifting a bit of a smirk up to the man now staring at him. "If ya want the smartass answer."

"With you," Hershel said setting his glass half-full glass down on the bar. "I expect nothin' less."

"Funny motherfucker," Danny muttered pointing a finger at Hershel as he smiled and returned his gaze back to his glass. "Callie got me sober." Danny said as he continued to poke at his glass causing the contents to spill out around the edges and coat his index finger. He swallowed hard at the feel of the liquid on his skin and shook his head a bit. "To this day I find it just all-shades of funny that it took a fuckin' bartender to get me sober." Danny's eyes lifted to see Hershel raising a questioning brow. "You didn't know she was a bartender?"

"She didn't strike me the type," Hershel said quietly nodding his head. "I quite honestly figured her to be in law enforcement, or something along those lines. The way she is with Rick, I thought maybe a partner of his or friend from then."

"Nope," Danny said, makin' the 'p' pop. "That'd be Shane." Danny said glowering at his glass again. "But I get what you're sayin'. She ain't just a bartender though. I was at her house back when this first started, saw all these books. She's got trainin' in somethin', but she never talks about it. I know she went to college…" Danny let the thought trail off and shrugged. "Shit don't matter anymore though, does it? The lives we had before, they're nothin'," Danny said pokin' at his glass again. "All that matters is the life we have now in this god-forsaken world of the dead."

Silence settled around the two men again as they both stared at their glasses on the bar. It was Danny who broke his stare-down with his glass and shifted his attention to the man across the bar from him.

"How 'bout you?" Danny asked raising an expectant brow when Hershel lifted tired eyes to him. "How long?"

"Twenty-three years," Hershel said quietly his eyes shifting back to his glass. "I'll refrain from the smartass answer," Hershel finished and Danny scoffed out a laugh as he shook his head. "I quit the day Maggie was born." Danny settled himself onto his right elbow and propped his head up with his hand as the fingers of his left hand continued to poke at his full glass. "Annette was my second wife," Hershel's voice echoed out around them and Danny kept his eyes to his glass as the man spoke. "Sara, Maggie's mother, died in childbirth. Maggie wasn't doin' well and I was," Hershel cleared his throat. "I was distraught. Lost. Worried that I-" he firmed his lips and Danny's eyes shifted away from his glass over to the man pouring out his life on the bar. "I thought I was going to lose them both. I made a promise to that day never to drink again as long as the lord let my baby live. And he did," Hershel said noddin' at his half-empty glass.

Another hard beat of silence broken by Hershel clearing his tear clogged throat and shakin' away whatever demon was stalkin' his mind.

"Your wife," Hershel continued lifting a questioning brow to Danny.

"Leslie," Danny said clearing his own throat when his voice cracked on her name. An instant image of her popped into his mind. Not the image he wanted, but the only image he could ever seem to recall anymore. Her undead eyes staring at him, mouth snappin' and growlin' as he placed the barrel of his gun to her head.

"You had to-"

"I didn't have to," Danny said quietly holdin' Hershel's gaze and firming his lips for a moment. "I needed to." Hershel's brow furrowed and Danny shifted his eyes away and over to his glass. "I couldn't leave the woman I loved to suffer a life like that. She deserved to be put to rest," Danny shifted his eyes back to Hershel who was still starin' at him.

"And I chose to let the woman I love linger and decay in a barn," Hershel said snarlin' at himself and his words as he shook his head and drained his glass.

"The things we do for the ones we love," Danny said quietly causin' Hershel's eyes to snap up to him.

Danny looked away then and stared at his glass. Part of him was wondering why he couldn't just do it. His fingers were touchin' the fuckin' glass. All he needed to do was wrap them around it and lift. It wasn't that fuckin' heavy. Hell, if he had enough energy to take out a Walker he could lift a fuckin' glass to his lips. He wanted to do it. Shit, he was fuckin' salivating just thinkin' about it.

Easy bit of salvation layin' just at the tips of his fingers. Easy bit of reprieve from the horrors and nightmares that plagued him and dogged his every step.

Easy. Just so fuckin' easy.

And while that little part of him was ponderin' why he couldn't lift that glass, another part was wonderin' why he stopped at all. Why he'd let Callie sober him up. Why he took it so damned seriously when he did. Fuck, he'd never taken a damn thing in his life seriously before. So why then? Why this?

"Jake," Danny said, and he realized it must have been out loud when Hershel's eyes shifted over to him. Danny ignored the older man's stare and shifted out of his slumped pose, his hands both flat on the bar with that little glass full of beautiful amber liquid settled between them. "You know why I'm not out there lookin' for him?" Danny's eyes shifted to Hershel for a moment before shifting back to his glass. "I was thinkin' about it that whole time I was walkin' today. Why I haven't left an' gone after him."

Danny shifted his weight painfully between his feet, dancing in his own agitation.

"You know, in the beginnin' it was me and Callie on the road to find our family," Danny said noddin' his head idly at his own words as he stared at his glass. "That was it. Goal one, find our family. She got me sober because she knew I needed to be. Because she couldn't trust me to have her back if I had somethin' on mine, so she said. But really I think she saw that I needed to be to survive in general. It was me and her, and then," Danny's eyes closed for a minute and he sighed. "Then we made a mistake. A mistake I can't ever forget. We let someone in and let our guard down," Danny shook his head a bit wildly. "Shoulda learned our lesson then, but we found Miles and Callie just couldn't leave a kid out there alone to fend for himself. No matter what I said. Then it was Ben and Gracie," Danny nodded a bit slower and pointed a finger. "It was all Callie really, pickin' up strays. After Ben and Gracie and the shit we went through to rescue them, I realized what was really goin' on."

"Danny-"

"She ain't really lookin' for Bobby," Danny said quietly his eyes roaming the bar and then shifting to Hershel's strained face. "She is, but she ain't, ya know? She's afraid of findin' him. Afraid to have to tell him-"

"About his family," Hershel finished quietly and Danny grimaced.

"That was out of her control," Danny said shakin' his head. "God, if you coulda seen her." Danny felt the tear rollin' down his cheek and cracked his neck before blinking the rest into oblivion. "Wasn't till after all that shit that went down at the Quarry and the CDC that I realized she wasn't really in all of this to find her brother. If she did, she'd happily deal with things. But all she was interested in was her self-imposed penance as Dale put it so eloquently one night. And we weren't workin' together," Danny said indicating himself with a wave of his hand. "I was part of it, her fuckin' penance. Her gettin' me sober, helpin' me to get to Atlanta to find my family. Keepin' me sane and laughin' when all I really wanted to do was fall apart. Fall back into the man I was."

"She's a good woman," Hershel said quietly and Danny scoffed out a laugh.

"She's a fuckin' idiot," Danny said still chuckling as he wiped his fingers in the liquid he'd spilled out on the bar. "Look at me. Look at where I am." He shook his head at himself and waved his hand around the room. "Callie hasn't been lookin' for Bobby because she knows he can take care of himself, and knows that Miles, Ben and Gracie depend on her. Knows I depend on her. She hasn't looked because she's been carryin' me and them kids. Feelin' like a failure when she loses one of us." Danny shook his head a bit and glared at his hands as they flattened on the bar. "I haven't been lookin' for Jake because I'm weak. I am," he said shakin' his head and growlin' at himself. "I'm a weak son of a bitch. I'm not strong enough to be able to survive havin' to put a bullet in him too." Danny's jaw clenched and he shook his head at the glass. "I'm stuck here, livin' the horror of it with Jenna, and watchin' Carol have to go through it with Sophia," Danny's hand lifted to rub at the bristling hair under his bottom lip. "I'm seein' Carl shot and layin' next to death in that bed, and all I can think 'bout is my boy. Out there somewhere without me and his momma. All I can think about is the two girls we just lost and the one boy we almost did. Thinkin' how we as a group of strong survival-minded adults could let something like that happen to our children. I'm stuck thinkin' 'bout what state I'm really gonna find my boy in, if I do find him. Thinkin' 'bout the how only image I can ever muster of my beautiful wife is how she looked before I put a bullet in her. Thinkin' how I can't handle havin' that be the only memory I'll have left of Jake someday."

Hershel's eyes drifted away from Danny at that point and Danny let out a ragged breath. His fingers continued to move over his stubble-covered chin.

"I changed who I was to find him," Danny said quietly, a sick sort of calm flowin' over him as he stared at that glass. "I did what I'd always deemed impossible. Changed. Became a better fuckin' man," Danny snarled at himself as his eyes shifted over the bar. "I almost killed a man," he continued, feelin' the moment that Hershel's stare landed on his face. "I had a gun to his head and I was gonna pull the trigger. There wasn't an ounce of remorse in me, not a moment of fear, or any feelin's that it was wrong. Just the belief that it had to be done. That I needed to do it, and if he woudla made one more move I would have. No remorse. I'd a killed him and you'd still have your wife, and we'd all still be livin' the dream of Sophia bein' alive and safe out there somewhere."

Hershel was staring at his hands now, both gripping his still half-full glass.

"I changed the man I was to find my son," Danny said to himself as his hand once again rubbed at his bottom lip. "But what have I become? What has this world really made me? A better fuckin' man…"

"Blessed is the man that endureth temptation: for when he is tried, he shall receive the crown of life, which the Lord hath promised to them that love him," Hershel's low gravely voice echoed out and Danny continued to stare at the glass before him listening to the eerie sound of the older man reciting scripture to him. The man sitting there staring into his own half-full glass of temptation as he spoke in a voice full of distain at himself. Danny's tongue darted out just a bit and he tasted the bare hint of whiskey that had been deposited by his slightly stained fingers. He tasted it.

He tasted it and he snarled at it.

"Fuck!" Danny grabbed the glass on the bar before him and threw it across the room.

The glass full of liquid shattered somewhere on the floor just as the door opened revealing the silhouette of two men.

"Jesus!" Glenn's voice rang out and Danny laughed like an idiot as he raked his hand through his hair. Rick was stepping gingerly over the broken glass followed by a tentative lookin' Glenn. Danny's chest constricted painfully at the sight of the two men, and the absence of the one woman he really needed. The one woman who he knew would understand where his head was. The one woman he'd left behind as he tried to walk road alone.

"Danny?" Rick's voice called out, his eyes squinting through the low remaining light that was filtering in through the dirty windows at the front of the bar.

"Rick," Danny said back raising a hand and waving them towards the bar. "Mind the spill there, G-man," Danny said as he watched Glenn stare at the broken glass at his feet before shifting his eyes back up to Danny. "You boys are just in time. Pull up a stool," he waved again and flattened his hands on the bar. He watched Rick and Glenn approach slowly, the two men coming to a stop and shifting their eyes between Danny and Hershel. Hershel's eyes remained on his glass as Rick stared down at him, while Glenn stared openly at the smilin' Danny. Slowly Rick's squinted and obviously confused gaze shifted up to Danny. Danny swallowed and smiled as he spread his palms flat on the bar before him. "What's your poison?"

I've got a good woman at home, who thinks I do no wrong

But sometimes Lord she just ain't always around

And you know that's when I fall, I can't help myself at all

And I get whiskey bent and hell bound

~Whiskey Bent and Hell Bound / Hank Williams Jr.

AN: Hmm… what to say. What to say. Just a tid-bit of Danny and Hershel here… and the plot moved nicely forward with the arrival of Rick and Glenn. Danny kinda hit the wall of crazy here…and I know it was disjointed and odd, but really that's kind of where I'd expect his head to be. And I know Hershel didn't do much talkin' but I just don't see him as being all that talkative about things that had just happened.

Note: Hershel quoted James 1:12 to Danny… a nice little snippet that I thought fit well with where those two were in their heads.

I've got TONS of reviews and PM's to respond to and I'm gonna try and get to that today. Baby-girl's got walking pneumonia so we're dealin' with that… and nausea and….oh the joy of life.

We'll be back at the farm in the next segment… and if all goes well jumping back to the bar for a bit as well.

Hope you enjoyed this little snippet and didn't think it too odd and out of place.

Much love!

See ya next chapter.