Disclaimer: I don't own AMC's The Walking Dead or any of its characters. Though if they gave it to me I certainly wouldn't say no.
Warnings: See original chapter for a complete list of warnings. This particular chapter will contain significant adult language, violence, and mild slash.
Authors Note #1: Please read and review. I am open to comments, advice, and constructive criticism. The encouragement and constructive criticism your reviews provide makes the writing process that much more enjoyable!
Rotation – Chapter 14
A few things ended up happening at once. First he had gotten his deer. That much he was absolutely sure of. Second was that the moment of victory was effectively lost and he was too busy nearly having a bloody heart attack to worry about the damn deer as Glenn's voice blared out like a loud speaker just off to his right.
…Five seconds earlier and the kid would have completely fucked up the shot.
Obviously unable to see either him or the herd that grazed just a few meters away, the kid appeared in his sight a moment later. Stumbling a bit as he tripped over a rocky outcropping a mere second after the final echoes of his call faded back into oblivion. But in the end that was all it took. The herd panicked, startled by both the sudden sound and the chasing echoes.
Figures.
The ground trembled as vibrations zipped up his skin, raising the tiny hairs that trailed up the length of his forearms as the sensation leeched upwards from the soil. Humming out in a familiar, pounding rhythm even as the sound got caught somewhere amidst the density of his bones, seeping in like water soaking through raw cotton. Shit!
He leapt to his feet, barely balancing atop the rocky ridge he had been resting against only a moment before, throwing caution and subtly to the wind as he saw the deer begin to move. Because the peaceful, grazing herd that had been there a mere moment earlier was gone. Replaced by a desperate, panic stricken crush as the group dashed forward, trampling over their own kin, as each and every one of them angled towards the same bottle neck gap that marked the only entrance or exit from the gulley itself. And purely because of geography the herd had only one way to go, funnelling out towards a point where the ground narrowed out into a small naturalized path. Which was of course, coincidentally, right where the kid was standing.
He could see the whites of the man's eyes as the kid faltered, freezing in place as his brain struggled to make sense of what he was actually seeing. He had been prepared for the possibility of a stampede of course, hell, he had picked his spot because it not only provided him with a clear shot, but put him safely out of harms way if the herd spooked when he took down one of their own. But Glenn hadn't. Christ, for all the kid knew he wasn't even here in the first place.
Bloody Fuck!
He hit Glenn running, side swiping him out of the way just in time as the massive buck that led the pack flew past. Its razor sharp antlers thrust forward, brazen and wild as its powerful forelegs trampled the ground beneath into a muddy pulp. It was gravity and momentum that did the rest, taking them flying down a hidden incline in a painful tangle of flailing limbs, billowing shirt sleeves and the sharp scrape of shoe soles grinding against vunerable shins.
They came to a stop in the middle of a naturalized ditch. It was a composite shelf carved out of the dirt and rock by eons of winter run off, effectively hidden from the trail and gulley above by a layer of thick undergrowth. Not thick enough to save his bruised bones and twisted back however. Damn, that had been close. Too close.
He was going to fuckin' strangle that kid.
By the time he forced the air back into his bruised lungs he came to two rather swift realizations. The first was that what he was lying on was actually warm and legitimately breathing. The second was that he had a face full of soft, inky black hair and he had absolutely no idea what to do about it.
He kept his eyes wide open despite the fact that the matted long grass and the twisted collar of the kids t-shirt that was blocking his light. Instead he simply blinked into the darkness. Trying and failing to ignore how they both rose up a few millimetres every time the kid breathed, or the fact that the bend of the kid's knee had somehow shifted perilously close to the inseam of his crotch.
Well, damn.
And after a long moment, while he still didn't really know what to do about it, he did actually need to breathe. So he did, inhaling deeply, with the press of his lips still resting somewhere in the vicinity of the crook of the kid's neck. Something that in retrospect actually turned out to be a big fucking mistake.
Because really, who knew hair could actually smell that good?
The kid shifted underneath him, as if life had suddenly been restored back into his prone limbs. And the single gust of air that left the younger man's lips lanced across the back of his scalp like a caress. Ruffling the sweat thickened strands like they were feather soft. He bit the sensation back, fighting the sudden steal of warmth that had begun spreading out from his center, moving just under his skin like neurons firing speeding towards the brain, his body reacting without his given consent.
He knew he should probably move, but he didn't. Instead he ended up following the kid's example and just laid there. Trying not to think too hard about the way the kid's skin had gone slick, sliding against his own. Or about the way that the venerable arch of the kid's neck had never looked so tempting.
His fingers twitched, and almost of their own volition ghosted along the arch of the kid's hip so slightly that it could have been an accident. But the kid's hips tilted, canting infinitesimally to the side as their belt buckles caught, scoring across each other in a muted shriek of cheap stainless steel and old silver. The muscles in his belly tightened as he tried and failed to will his erection away, not sure if he should be pleased or otherwise when it appeared that the kid was having the exact same problem. This was fucking stupid.
But the silence still stretched.
It was Glenn that finally broke it, his voice piping up from somewhere around the left side of his ribcage. It was either that or mid navel. He wasn't exactly sure which. Sounding suitably muffled through what was at least two sets of clothing and a backpack to boot.
"Ermmm..Daryl?"
"What kid?" He growled, not even raising his head when the kid shifted again. Not particularly interested in moving anytime soon himself as his back twinged in restless agreement.
"I think my leg fell asleep." The younger man responded, his tone edging so close to plaintive that he couldn't help let out a splintered, half muffled peel of laughter into the man's shirt collar. The warmth only spreading as he felt a smile spread across the kids lips, stretching out along his skin like fabric pulling tight in a breeze.
He was still biting back a snort of laughter as he rolled to his feet, finding that after everything else that had happened in the last couple of days, he just couldn't help himself. It was just too reldicious. He couldn't seem to sum it up any other way. The kid was reldicious. Hell, even he was reldicious.
He was about to give the kid a hand to his feet when he realized that his left hand was painted red, soaked up to the wrist in a heady, leaking crimson. What the shit! His mind worked frantically, and despite the impossibility he whirled on his heel, unconsciously alert for walkers. Even as fingers of his other hand tried their best to wipe away the burbling liquid, clearing the blood away from the edges of the wound, almost desperate to get a closer look at it.
"You're bleeding!" Glenn exclaimed, looking just about as surprised as he felt. Voice pitching in surprise as the kid put his thoughts to words, his eyes going wide and troubled as he focused on the gash.
"Hold on. I have something for that." Glenn began, not even missing a beat as he struggled with the straps of his backpack, voice ripe with unneeded concern and he dug through his pack.
But he ignored the kid's yammering in favour of probing at the wound tentatively, watching as rivulets of crimson beaded up from the liquidly well of his palm. Watching the dome as it grew, growing and growing until it spilled over itself. Trickling out through his fingers until it started peppering the leaves and rocks below with barely oxygenated iron. Shit. It was a deep one. In all the rush and confusion he hadn't moved his hand away from the snapping bow string, letting it score a deep line across his thumb and cut into the meat of his palm.
He jerked away as the kid made to reach for it, gut practically roiling right then and there as a flash of fragmented memory rose up behind his eyes. There was something about the melding hues of ivory and fresh crimson that twisted his lips. It was wrong. He didn't like it.
He closed his eyes and let loose a long, pent up breath, letting his elbow rest on his knee as he kept his hand aloft. His hand only throbbed in response, the skin going slick and tingly as the blood began to stream down his forearm. Fucking ow.
But worse still was the fact that the kid seemed dead set on getting fussy over it. Like he really needed a fucking nursemaid hovering over him on top of everything else! In fact the kid was already making noise about antiseptic, Neosporin, and tensor bandages as he pulled away.
"Don't." He barely managed. Stumbling over his tongue as the word splintered across his lips. Unable to help himself as he took in the scent of the man in front of him, unable to describe the sweet, musky smell of stale sweat and crushed soil that had melded between them. Or the freshly broken sod that had been smeared clear across the both of them in their fall, painting the kid's stark, ivory skin with a varying hue of gentle browns and greys.
"Yeah, whatever Conan. I get it okay. I am sure you have had worse cuts shaving." Glenn snarked sarcastically, ignoring him completely as he rifled through his pack. A half full package of cotton balls already firm in one hand even as he made another grab for his injured hand.
"I said leave it!" He snarled. Irritation rising to the forefront as his hand throbbed reproachfully, wrenching uncomfortably as he jerked it just out of the kid's reach. Figuring that would be the end of it. But not to be outdone, true to form, the kid gave as good as he got, getting right up in his face like he was about to start something, or at least cuss him out. The kids 'bitch face' looking more like a snarl then he had ever seen it. In fact he was almost proud. Almost.
In the end he turned out to be half right, with the kid apparently opting to go with volume rather then tact.
"Look! Would you just quit it and let someone help you for once!" The kid practically shouted, frustration obviously getting the better of him before he backed off. Taking a few deliberate breaths as he shook the anger off, putting a small modicum of space between them before continuing.
"Just, look… Let me do this for you, okay? ..Please?" The kid tried again. The man's voice going quiet and gentle as he adopted the same tone he himself had used more times then he could count in the past in order to soothe startled livestock. And it was just patronizing enough to make him actually listen.
He was reminded of the taste of the last inch of Bourbon in an old bottle of Wild Turkey as he looked at the younger man through the ratty fringe of his sweat slicked hair. Meeting the kids gaze straight on for the first time in a long time. But the look he got back sent all thoughts of Bourbon and empty bottles Gentlemen Jack right out his head. Because he had forgotten people could look like that, all warm…honest, and flushed red with far too many emotions to count. He had forgotten what those thingsactually looked like. …Like desire… Like…affection…
And for the first time in a long time his mind actually went blank.
So instead of digging himself any deeper, he just nodded, allowing the kid to get to work with barely a peep to the contrary, the silence suiting him just fine. In fact he was so distracted that the kid had the entire first aid kit open and his hand in cradled in his lap before he could even think about changing his mind.
His barely held back a hiss at the unforgiving sting as the kid rubbed antiseptic into the wound. He grunted, unable to stop the small aborted movement as he fought to keep still, his shoulders hunching unconsciously as if attempting to make himself smaller might somehow stave off the sting.
Jesus H. Christ that burned.
"Sorry.. Sorry." Glenn muttered, his face screwed up in concentration as he dabbed the area a bit more gently with the soaked cotton ball. His eyes careful and he doused the area liberally, apparently mindless of the steady drip as blood began to soak into the material of his filthy jeans. Doing nothing to stop the unsteady stream as the drops began to free fall from his finger tips, dappling across the kid's own hand in the process.
All else considered the kid wasn't half bad at this.
After a long moment, he bit back a startled yelp as the kid got a bit too adventurous with the swab, sitting up straight once again as he made to speak. "How did you even find me?" He grunted. Watching as the man began to slather on a thick layer of Neosporin, deciding that a change of subject would be as inconspicuous of an out as he could get at this point.
"You're lucky I did at all." The man responded, flashing him a small smile before looking back down at his work. Nimble fingers tucking in a few extra layers as he went.
"Rick said you headed north out of camp and I found a boot print and a few sets of deer tracks a few miles back. So I figured that if you went this way the deer would be where you'd be." The kid finished.
Inwardly he was as impressed as fuck, finding himself caught between trying to picture the kid actually tracking him down through the bush like that, and cursing his lack of attention. Outwardly he favoured the kid with an approving grunt before he actually clued in to the rest of what the kid had actually said.
"You mean there's more then just you out here?" He asked, eying the kid carefully as he searched for truth in the man's gaze, unable to mask his surprise when he found it there.
"What? Oh, of course there is. Rick went east, T-Dawg to the west, Shane to the south, and I took the north." The kid replied, apparently under some sort of delusion that it really was just that damnsimple.
"You didn't really think we'd just leave you out here, did you?" Glenn pressed, changing the subject so suddenly that his mind looped in the middle of entertaining a series of somewhat horrific thoughts of the others actually trudging along through the forest with the deluded goal of somehow finding one man in the middle of over a thousand square miles of low grade mountain range and dense forest bush.
God damned city folk. How the whole lot of them weren't dead by their own stupidity by now was entirely beyond him.
"Did you?" Glenn asked again. His fingers pausing in mid-swab like his answer was actually somewhat important. But there was nothing he could say to that, so he simply remained silent. Looking down at his half bandaged wound, and then further down until his eyes rested on the guilty, blood encrusted bow string. Taking in the ruddy, swirling patterns as the thick liquid dribbled down across the steel frame, coloring the triggering mechanism an ironic, but strangely appropriate ruby red.
But for some reason, that only served to irritate the kid even more. With his movements growing rigid and angry as he wrapped a tensor bandage around the bulky inner packing and fastened it with a safety pin. For a grown man the kid certainly knew how to sulk.
"Left only gun back at camp? Stupid." He muttered darkly, breaking the heavy silence as visions of the old man and his stupid hat rose predominately in the back of his mind.
"Two." The kid shot back, rising to his feet and dusting himself off. "I wouldn't want to be on the wrong end of a gun with Andrea right now, would you?" He responded, still clearly irritated.
He blinked slowly at that. …Well, he certainly couldn't argue with that. That broad could be fucking scary sometimes. At least back in the days when she still had that fire in her…
"What happened anyway?" Glenn piped up, clearly attempting to change the subject himself as he began packing up the kit, trying his best to stuff it back into the already bulging knapsack as he leaned against a rocky outcropping for balance.
"You were supposed to be back nearly two days ago." The kid finished, finally letting a hint of censure creep into his tone, his words leaning towards being almost accusatory, as if he somehow knew exactly why he'd left in the first place.
"Couldn't come back to camp empty handed, now could I?" He shot back, motioning off towards the dark lump still lying in the clearing above them. Surprised in spite of himself when he realized that the small smile that had inexplicably accompanied his words, had come to his lips so god damn easily.
The kid's grin was blinding.
A/N #1: Please let me know what you think? Reviews and constructive critiquing are love! (I like to respond to all my reviews so if you reviewed anonymously or I somehow missed you, I love you all, just saying.)
A/N #2: Sorry for the spastastic nature of the chapters lately. Masters degrees are hard work. True freakin' story Batman. (At least I got this one up super quick! Woo!)
"Hunting is not a sport. In a sport, both sides should know they're in the game."
- Paul Rodriguez