So quick note there is some slight boy on boy action. (yaoi, slash whichever you prefer) Not enough that I think it needs to be moved up to M rating but I just wanted to let everyone know in case they don't really like that sort of story. Just skip over the parts when Daryl goes to his room to sleep. Otherwise enjoy!
Daryl had returned to the house in the dead of night. He'd been gone too long. He knew it. But the idea of returning any sooner had almost led him to a panic attack. By the time Daryl returned to his mind the sky was dark and the roads were lit only by the moon and stars. It took longer than he thought it would to return to a stable frame of mind. He doubted that Rick would still be at the house they had been searching, but he couldn't resist the urge to check just in case.
When Daryl reached the house his mind was clear of the haze that panic and terror had created over his mind. It had blocked out all logical thought earlier. He moved directly to the greenhouse. A quick peek inside proved that Rick had left as he thought. Daryl almost left until the familiar copper smell reached his nose. He stepped in and found drops of blood on the ground. He ran a finger through it. Still tacky. The blood was spilt recently. He closed his eyes trying to work through the fog from a few hours ago.
What had caused it? Did he leave Rick alone with walkers? A crunch under his foot pulled Daryl back with a snap.
"Pottery." Daryl mumbled fingering the shard. A flash came back to him. His fingers closing around the lip of a pot. His hand clenching tightly as he swung it around and collided the heavy pot with Rick's head. "Shit. Shit. Shit." Daryl hissed. He hadn't remembered lashing out. The first thing he remembered after entering the green house was being in the woods huddled against a tree shivering uncontrollably. But before that the panic had blocked everything out. He had responded without thinking or realizing what he'd done.
It wasn't the first time Daryl had blacked out and gave into instinct. Though the last time had been when his old man had broken his arm. Daryl came to when Merle had his arms wrapped around Daryl's neck in a tight headlock. Merle's voice screaming his name in his ear. While his father threatened him that he would beat him to death if he didn't stop. Daryl hadn't attacked his father (he would be dead if he had) but his best friend Larry. Daryl woke from his panic and instincts with Larry's blood on his hand. Larry spent a while coughing his teeth onto the floor. Daryl had thought or hoped he had outgrown that. Merle had called it a Dixon thing. Being blinded by blood rage that you just shut down mentally. But Merle's blood rage was always fueled by anger, rage, and violence. Daryl's blood rage on the other hand seemed to be fueled by fear, panic, and terror.
"Gone all 'Hulk smash' on the sheriff did ya boy?" Merle taunted from Daryl's right. "Never thought ya had it in ya."
"Shut up." Daryl growled.
"Gonna make me?" Merle mocked. Daryl shut his eyes waiting a beat before opening them again. There was no taunting around him. Just the sound of his heart beating in his ears. Daryl stood from his crouch, Rick wasn't here. He either went back to the house the group was staying in or he was in trouble. Daryl started to leave before a beam of moonlight hit a blue petal. Blue hydrangeas, he thought touching the petals.
"Perseverance in adversity. It means to keep trying even when things get tough." Daryl's mother had told him. He knew about medicinal plants from his and Merle's adventures. All too often did they need to use the herbs to mend cuts or take the edge off a burn. But the knowledge of flower names and their meaning even the origins of flowers, that knowledge had come from his mother. He could still remember her hoarse voice and stained fingernails as she pointed out different flowers in her books. "Flowers are delicate. They need our protection. Just like the people you give flowers to. Human hearts are delicate like flowers. The only difference is that flowers can survive alone. Humans aren't meant to be alone."
The image of Rick's face after yet another unsuccessful training in the woods came to Daryl's mind. The way the man's eyes looked so defeated. How his whole body seemed to sag with the lack of progress. When Rick felt like he was failing, the man seemed to turn away from his normal confident strong self. Rick pulled away from the whole group out of self-loathing when he felt like he was failing himself and worse the group.
With that image in his mind and his mother's voice ringing in his ears, Daryl grabbed four and sliced through their stems with his knife. As Daryl set them away in his pocket he remembered how Shane told Rick four was his lucky number. Daryl couldn't help but hold onto that superstition. The man did seem to have the devil's luck on his side when it came to surviving the end of the world. He gathered his supplies and marched back to the house. Nothing seemed amiss as he stood in the cellar but still his hand rested on the hilt of knife at his hip as he waited for someone to open the door.
The door opened to Hershel with a shotgun aimed at Daryl. He glared down the barrel. Hershel sighed in relief when he realized it was Daryl.
"Daryl, thank god." Hershel smiled letting Daryl into the house. "We were worried. After Rick came back alone…" He trailed off.
"Rick got back?" Daryl turned quickly on Hershel.
"Yeah a few hours ago actually." Hershel said giving Daryl a once over.
"What are ya lookin' at?" He growled in response to the look the vet was giving him.
"Rick came back with a pretty nasty head wound. I thought for certain you'd be hurt too." Daryl swallowed, how could he explain that the wound came from him hitting Rick in the head. Even thinking about how to say it sounded bad, no matter how he tried to explain it. "Well I'm glad that you're okay." Hershel gave Daryl a quick pat on the shoulder.
"Yeah…" Daryl trailed off. "Where is ever'one?"
"Most of them went to bed. Carol was really worried about you. We all were." Daryl stared at Hershel hard. "Don't give me that look. We were. Rick and Carol wanted to run off and search for you immediately. But Rick's head was pretty bad, he needed to rest. Otherwise I'm sure he would have left to try and find you. Hell I've had to talk Glenn and Maggie down from running off to try and find you before morning too. Managed to get everyone to agree to wait until first light to look. "
"Sorry." Daryl murmured staring at the ground. "Didn' mean to get ever'one all worked up."
"I didn't mean it like that Daryl. Just wanted to let you know the group was concerned for you." Hershel sighed when Daryl didn't look up. "Well you should go tell everyone you're safe." Daryl shifted his foot not really wanting to go up and tell them why he'd been out so long or more specifically why Rick had come back alone and injured. Hershel must have noticed his hesitation. "Or you could let me handle that in the morning. You're probably tired huh?" Daryl shrugged. "Rick brought back the bags maybe sort them then head off for some rest?" He suggested.
"Sure."
"I've got to check on Rick, make sure his wound isn't worse."
"Was it that bad?" Daryl looked up concern written all over his face.
"I've seen worse but he could easily overwork himself and make it really bad. You know how Rick is. Doesn't really know when to stop. Something you two have in common." Hershel smiled warmly.
"Why don' I check on him?" Daryl said quickly as Hershel started up the stairs.
"You sure?"
"Yeah I'll look through this stuff then make sure he's doin' alright. Need to let him know I'm back anyway."
"Well that works for me. I can get to bed myself." Hershel nodded at Daryl before heading upstairs. "See you in the morning." He called softly, Daryl nodded before turning his head to the bags. He set to work unloading the bags, food he put in the food bag and his books he kept in his personal bag. The medicinal herbs he collected he'd deal with later. Most of them needed to be dried or crushed, but he didn't have time for that just yet. With a sigh Daryl started up the stairs to the watch room. He made a quick stop into his room and set the bag of books against the wall for him to go through later. The only room Rick could be in if he was supposed to stay awake. Daryl gave it a quick knock and pushed the door open.
Carl was in one seat. In the other was Rick slumped against the wall. Carl looked up and smiled widely when he saw Daryl.
"Hey. Glad to see you're back."
"Yeah. Glad to be back." Daryl shifted awkwardly until Carl motioned him over. Carl shifted his gaze back towards the window. "How's the watch been?"
"Fine." Carl shrugged. Daryl nodded but turned his attention to Rick. He glanced at Rick not trying to be too obvious. The man had his eyes closed and looked rather peaceful besides the bandages wrapped around his head. It didn't look like his wounds were as bad as Daryl had feared. It also didn't look like his condition had worsened. At least it didn't look like he had any of the obvious signs that Daryl had read about in Hershel's medical books. "He fell asleep a little less than an hour ago, I'd guess." Carl said his eyes on Daryl and his father.
"Has he been okay?" Carl nodded a little uncertainly.
"I think so. Hershel said he wasn't supposed to sleep though." Carl bit his lip nervously.
"Hm… Did he faint or fall asleep?"
"Fell asleep."
"Any seizures or dizziness?" Carl shook his head. "Then I think you're probably okay. Rick's probably just tired." Daryl explained softly, this seemed to make Carl feel better. He smiled brightly at Daryl.
"My dad said training didn't go well." Daryl smiled ruefully.
"It wasn' that bad."
"He acted like it was so bad you never wanted to talk to him again." Carl quirked an eyebrow.
"Nah progress is slow but he's doin' better. It takes time." Daryl clarified. He rubbed his chin. "I've tried to explain to him that he can' rush this."
"My dad isn't usually so impatient." Carl noted.
"This world is so uncertain. Makes being patient difficult." Daryl knew how hard it was for Carl to grow up in this world. There were things he struggled with, socially (not that Daryl could judge.) Lori had once told Carol (who ended up telling Daryl) that she feared her son was growing cold and hateful towards the world. Daryl wasn't certain about that but he didn't doubt that Carl's life before this had been pretty peaceful and adjusting must be hard on someone so young. Hell it was hard on them even as adults.
"But you're patient." Daryl scoffed.
"I ain' patient. I hide my impatience better than most my family. But I'd say I'm only patient when I'm huntin'." Carl looked down.
"You're more patient than Shane was." He whispered. Daryl shrugged.
"Maybe but I know I'm not more patient than yer father. It's just lately that he's impatient."
"I'm worried about him." Carl murmured. "This winter has been hard. Surviving has been hard. What if he can't take it? What if he gets attacked?" Carl's blue eyes looked watery. It was a level of vulnerability that Daryl wasn't used to seeing on Carl. He could almost see the child Carl's age was supposed to reflect in those shimmering blue eyes.
"He'll be fine."
"But-"
"I'll keep him safe." Daryl insisted. "I'll protect him." Carl sniffed.
"Promise?"
"Yeah. I promise." Daryl agreed. He didn't even hesitate. He didn't need to. Daryl had already made the promise to keep Rick safe to himself. All Carl's words did was strengthen his resolve to do that. Rick had so many reasons to live. This was just another reason.
"Thanks Daryl." Carl beamed up at him. The hunter nodded back. Carl sank into his chair and yawned deeply.
"Ya tired?" Carl shrugged.
"I'm okay."
"Get some sleep." Daryl instructed the boy. "I'll keep watch for a while." Carl glanced at his father, looking torn between waking his father up or letting him sleep longer.
"I'll watch him too. Get some sleep, I got this." Carl slowly got out of his seat.
"If you need me come and get me." Daryl nodded as he watched Carl step out the door. The boy looked ready to collapse at any moment, he'd probably been on watch all night. The long watches always felt the hardest. It was part of the reason why Daryl often volunteered to take them. He sighed and moved the chair back. Daryl pressed himself into his favorite seat, inside of the window frame. A habit from his childhood. The habit was twofold, to make himself smaller and to minimize the areas on his body that could be attacked.
Something sharp poked his thigh, Daryl realized it was the flowers. He worked them out of his pocket. Daryl spun them in his hands as he considered what to do with them. He couldn't very well give them to Rick. Not like he did Carol. That just seemed too weird. It gave him too much of a date and a movie feeling. Which was not the point but how do you really give another man flowers? Besides putting them on his grave.
Daryl considered giving them to Carol to deliver to Rick. But as much as he liked Carol she tended to be like Rick in her constant pushing trying to get him better acquainted with the group. He could just put them in the man's bag but there was no telling who would find them first and if whoever found them would get the wrong impression. No, the only choice Daryl had was to give them to Rick himself.
Rick shifted in the corner of Daryl's eyes. He pressed himself more into the wall like he was trying to get comfortable. Daryl bit his lip as he watched the man before him. How to do this and not make it weird. Daryl's mother had the defter touch when it came to things like this. She would know the right way to cheer someone up. She would know how to give Rick the flowers and tell him to keep trying even if it's hard. Merle would just punch Rick until he pulled himself together and stopped whining about how he couldn't hunt or track properly.
Daryl though he didn't have his mother's touch and he doubted Merle's brand of support was really what the officer wanted or needed. Daryl sighed and he thought how easy it would be to just throw them at the man's head and run away. Problem solved Rick gets the flowers and Daryl gets to run away.
"That's right. Be a coward. It's what yer good at." Merle chuckled from the shadows.
"Don' ya ever get tired of botherin' me?" Daryl grumbled under his breath.
"Nah. Yer my little brother. Gotta make sure ya aren' fuckin' ever'thin' up." Merle laughed his throaty laugh that was more of a mocking cough than anything else.
"Thanks." Daryl muttered sarcastically. He rubbed his neck trying to work some of the kinks out. "Screw it." He whispered to himself and set the four hydrangeas down against the officer's lap. At first he worried that Rick would crush them but the man slept peacefully didn't move at all. Unlike Daryl who would toss and turn in the night, Rick hardly moved at all. Sometimes it looked like he was dead he slept with such little movement.
Daryl turned back to the window and kept watch as the officer slept. Things were quiet just the way Daryl liked them. The hours rolled by easily with no movement outside or inside the house. The whole world felt dead. Before things had gone to hell Daryl had to go far into the woods to find this kind of stillness. Even then, a jumbo jet or some other human noise often interrupted it. But this was almost perfect stillness. It felt like the world had frozen in place. The hours of tranquility were broken by Rick's soft groan as he started to wake up. The man stretched much like a cat would after sleeping in the sun all afternoon, Daryl noted.
Rick blinked slowly. Daryl quickly turned back to the window but he kept Rick in his peripheral vision. He watched as the man found the flowers and ran his fingers almost reverently over the petals. Rick acted like he'd never seen flowers before from the way he was treating them. The way he was smiling softly to himself made Daryl's insides quiver slightly with a feeling he wasn't used to and couldn't put a name to. Daryl wasn't certain how much more he could watch of the man's smile so he opened his mouth to speak. The moment he did though Rick jumped a good inch into the air. Exactly like a cat does when startled, Daryl grinned to himself.
When Rick asked where Daryl had been he quickly avoided the subject. Not wanting to tell him he'd hit Rick in the head and then taken off like a child who knew he was going to be scolded for breaking a window. In fact he tried to avoid all conversations with Rick. He was too busy trying to figure out exactly what he could say that would make sense. Hell anything that would make Rick realize he hadn't been in his right mind. That he would never attack Rick on purpose.
But the words just wouldn't come out of his mouth. They were there somewhere lost in his brain but they couldn't seem to get to his mouth for him to say them. However, when Rick asked where he'd gotten the flowers from (how the man knew it was him surprised Daryl more than a little. He thought he would for certain have to explain to Rick that he got the hydrangeas for him.) Daryl realized he couldn't just avoid talking to the other man forever.
When he explained what the flowers meant he looked away from Rick. He didn't want to see the look in Rick's eyes when he admitted what he did to him. Daryl felt the fear of disappointing the people around him rise to his throat. It had been a long time since Daryl had anyone he cared about enough to be worried about how they felt towards him.
He had thought for the longest time his father had beaten the urge to impress the people he cared about, out of him. For a long time he only cared what his father and brother thought of him. But things changed. And no matter how he tried to deny it he did care what Rick and the group thought of him.
The fact that Rick didn't even realize why Daryl was apologizing, really tested his newfound loyalty to the group and especially its leader. When he had first joined the group back at the quarry Daryl would have lied. He never would have considered telling Rick the truth of where his wound came from. Hell back then he wouldn't have cared if he hurt Rick or not.
But things were different now. The major difference? He did care. Now it bothered him to keep a secret from Rick. He knew Rick had kept secrets from the group but that was from his urge to keep them safe. He was trying to protect them with his secrets and lies. Lying to Rick about this didn't help keep him safe. In fact, it might even put him in danger if Rick wasn't aware of what could trigger Daryl's panic attacks. Had Daryl grown as a person? Maybe, he wasn't certain. He did know his brother would probably be less than pleased with the influence the group had on him. But Daryl wasn't his brother. He wasn't the person his brother last saw waiting for him at the quarry as he went with the group into Atlanta.
Taking a deep breath Daryl put his fingers on Rick's temple. The bandaged still felt slightly wet meaning he was probably still bleeding from his wound. Daryl could feel his hands tremble slightly despite his best efforts to keep them still. But he forced himself to do this. Because he had to tell Rick what happened and properly explain himself.
Rick tried to make a joke as Daryl attempted to explain himself. He couldn't tell if the officer was trying to defuse the situation or make the hunter less nervous. Either way he didn't let himself get distracted by the man's words. He apologized. Or as best as he could. Daryl was certain he fumbled through the whole thing but he managed to get something out. Which was more than he normally would be able to do. Rick didn't seem to mind his fumbling or his inadequate apology. He smiled and even thanked Daryl for trying to cheer him up.
In that moment the tension drained from Daryl's shoulders. He felt at ease finally. Rick seemed to be at ease as well. Or at least he wasn't yelling and telling Daryl to leave. (Which in his mind was a pretty good sign.)
"So are we going hunting tomorrow?" Rick asked still playing with the hydrangeas. Daryl glanced at him.
"Do ya wanna? Shouldn' ya rest yer head?" Rick shrugged.
"I'm fine. Hershel overreacts." Daryl snorted at the man's excuse.
"Somehow I doubt he'd agree with ya."
"So you weren't really hurt that bad when you got shot?" Rick countered. Daryl chuckled.
"Fine. If ya wanna go huntin' we'll go." Rick grinned.
"Good. I'm sure I'll do better tomorrow."
"Oh?"
"I've got a gift from you don't I? It's got to be good luck." Rick waved the hydrangeas at Daryl.
"That's really not what they mean. Need a four leaf clover for that."
"Don't care." Rick grinned cheekily at Daryl.
"Fine fine do what ya want with them. Just cause yer hurt I ain' takin' it easy on ya, just so ya know." Daryl pointed his finger at Rick who grinned in response. His eyes twinkled as if challenging Daryl to do his worse. The look alone made Daryl feel better. It meant that Rick was back to his normal self. The confident and strong leader was back where he should be. Daryl wasn't being serious when he said he wouldn't take it easy on his leader. He wouldn't dare push Rick too hard for two reasons, one for fear that he would injure himself more and two because he really didn't want Hershel's wrath coming down on him should Rick's wounds get worse. But it was nice to see the other man rising to his challenge. It was a relief to see.
The pair sat keeping watch for a while until Daryl noticed Rick's eyelids drifting downward almost like he had no control over them.
"Ya should go to bed." Rick shook his head.
"I'm fine." Daryl half grinned to himself, Rick and Carl acted a lot alike when they were trying to push themselves. He couldn't help feel that Carl inherited it from his father. That urge and wiliness to push themselves harder than was necessary.
"Ya need sleep." Rick shook his head again. "If ya don' get sleep then we can' go huntin' tomorrow."
"That's not fair." Rick grumbled.
"I'm not dealin' with ya if ya fall asleep on me. I'll drag a bear over to wake ya up instead." Rick's eyes widened in shock. Daryl grinned. "Now would ya rather take that chance or just play it safe and go to sleep."
"You're mean." Rick sighed standing up. "Fine you win this round Dixon. But the next one is mine."
"Doubt that." Daryl taunted as Rick opened the door.
"I'm glad you're back Daryl. Really I am. Sleep well." Daryl nodded at Rick and waited until he shut the door before sighing heavily. Before Daryl could relax a knock came less than five minutes later.
"Yeah?" He called. The door opened to Maggie who smiled at him.
"Wow you really are back. There was a rumor going around."
"Already? That was fast."
"It's a small group. Rumors don't really have far to travel." She explained before walking to the window. "My dad and Rick said I should take over for you."
"That so?"
"Yeah they said you should get some sleep."
"I'm fine."
"They said you'd say that." Maggie laughed. "My dad said that if you don't go I'm supposed to threaten you with being put on house arrest under my dad's care."
"Bunch of snakes." Maggie grinned.
"So going to move? Or do I have to make you." Daryl quirked an eyebrow to which Maggie put her hands on her hips defiantly. Maggie was tough before they'd moved off the farm and she was even tougher now. Daryl didn't doubt that he would win in a fight against her but he would never hit a woman. Watching his father hit his mother as a child had created that code in Daryl from an early age. Plus he liked Maggie, she was smart and strong. There was no way he'd risk her (or worse her father) hating him because he was too stubborn to leave his post. Daryl sighed and started to move his body out of the window. He cracked his neck before giving Maggie a look of surrender.
"Just so ya know I'm not movin' cause of their threats. I'm doin' it cause I want to."
"Of course." Maggie smiled as she took her seat near the window. "Pleasant dreams Daryl." Daryl rolled his eyes and shut the door. He started to his room, where he pulled the bag of books with him to his bed and set them down where he could look them over. Daryl pulled one out it and realized it was a romance. He hadn't meant to grab that one but maybe the girls would enjoy it. Daryl leafed through it checking it's content.
Despite rumors amongst the group Daryl actually wasn't too picky when it came to books. Most books he read as a child he loved and the few he actually had the time to finish as an adult he also enjoyed. So a romance didn't really bother him as long as it was a good read. This one looked like it was. Sure the normal 'does he love me or not' junk was there but at least the characters were somewhat interesting. The romance scenes were a bit steamer than most of the ones in other books Daryl had come across.
Daryl's eyes skimmed across the page as the 'super handsome and chiseled chested ' male protagonist snuck into the 'large breasted and perky' female protagonist's bed. If Daryl was a girl he supposed he'd be giggling at the scene. But he wasn't and couldn't help but roll his eyes. If someone snuck into his bed they'd get a punch to the face, or worse. Deciding he'd had enough he put the book back into the bag.
Daryl thought about keeping his eyes open in case Maggie wanted to switch out again but the moment he fell against the bed with his back jammed against the wall, Daryl could feel his eyes drifting shut. The knowledge that nothing could get at his back kept him relaxed enough for sleep to sink its claws into his exhausted body.
Less than ten minutes later Daryl heard a noise in his room. He continued breathing normally but shifted his back even further into the wall. Trying to sink into the plaster.
"At least ya can only be attacked from one side." Merle mumbled in his ear. Daryl continued his pretend sleep while slowly subtly shifting one arm under the pillow his head rested on. Keeping his ears, open Daryl slowly worked his hunting knife from its sheath. "Ya sleep with a knife? Little psychotic even by Dixon standards." Merle laughed from the foot of Daryl's bed. He ignored his brother's voice instead trying to focus on the noise in his room. The footsteps were creeping closer to his bed. Daryl gripped the hilt on his hunting knife tightly but kept his face a perfect mask of a man deep in unconscious sleep.
The moment he heard a creak besides his bed he moved swiftly. His left hand which held the knife moved from under the pillow to strike whoever was foolish enough to get close to him. The idea of a walker inside the house sent Daryl's mind spinning with nerves. He moved his right hand to block any snapping jaws or guns that might be pointed at him. But before Daryl could slam his knife home inside the skull of his enemy a strong hand gripped his left wrist twisting enough to make holding his blade practically agonizing. Daryl hissed moving to swipe with a leg to catch them in the ribs.
Another quick twist on his left wrist and a shoulder to his chest had Daryl reeling backwards onto the bed. Daryl struggled to kick his legs into the chest of whoever held him down simultaneously trying to rip his left arm free so he could swipe with his knife right into his attackers eyes. This wasn't the first time Daryl had been held down by someone bigger than him. However, the last time had ended with Daryl bloody and broken, nearly dead on his bed.
"Relax." A whisper hissed near his ear. Daryl's normal response whenever anyone told him to relax was to fight more. His father used to say that if he relaxed it wouldn't hurt as much. When in reality it didn't matter if he fought or didn't. He would end up as badly injured either way. But this voice had Daryl going almost limp.
"Rick?!" He growled angrily. The shadows over the moon retreated slightly allowing enough light for Daryl to see it was indeed the officer holding his wrist keeping the blade away from his face. At the same time Rick was pinning Daryl's legs down with his own long limbs. "Let me go!" Daryl struggled to break out of the man's grip.
"Are you going to stab me if I do?" Rick asked his eyes falling to the blade of the knife that was waving dangerously between them as Daryl tried to break free.
"Only if ya don' let me go right now!" Daryl hissed in Rick's face. Rick's blue eyes shown with what looked like amusement. As if he enjoyed seeing Daryl struggle under him, Daryl himself didn't find it the least bit funny. Had Rick not caught his hand there was no doubt in Daryl's mind he would have killed the man. Not on purpose of course but from his fears of being attacked in his sleep. A fear that came from his childhood that this world only nurtured and festered inside of him. Rick smiled slightly his eyes twinkling in the moonlight. He slowly released Daryl's hand, but only after he pressed his knees hard against Daryl's legs keeping them trapped so he couldn't possibly buck Rick off.
Daryl glared daggers at Rick and rubbed his aching wrist. He'd pulled too hard trying to break free and the skin felt tender and raw. But Daryl had the good sense to put his knife back into its sheath under his pillow before he moved to yell at Rick. "What the hell were ya thinkin'? I coulda killed ya!" Rick continued to smile down at Daryl. His eyes watching the anger dance throughout the hunter's body. "Ya should know better than to attack a man while he's sleepin'!"
"I couldn't help myself." Rick whispered shrugging slightly.
"Are ya stupid?! Don' do somethin' that dumb again!" Daryl snarled his eyes slits as he scowled at Rick.
"I'm sorry." Rick was suddenly at his ear again breathing his words into Daryl's ear. Daryl felt his whole body go rigid at the feeling. "I didn't mean to scare you."
"Ya didn' scare me." Daryl bristled under Rick's words.
"Then why did you have a knife?" Rick asked his hand slowly moving down Daryl's left arm until it reached his wrist. Rick gently took his hand and started to run slow careful circles around Daryl's tender wrist. He seemed to be trying to rub the pain away. Daryl shivered slightly under Rick's ministrations. It sent a tickle up his spine he wasn't used to. In fact, if he was willing to be honest it felt kinda good. But only a little. And only because his wrist hurt, he convinced himself.
"I always sleep with a knife." Daryl murmured after he realized he'd been quiet for sometime as he'd gotten lost in the feeling of Rick soothing the aches away.
"Always?" Rick whispered moving his hand to run over Daryl's palm. Slowly moving over the calluses and scars that littered the skin. Daryl's hands had always been an extremely sensitive part of his body and it felt like there was a fire burning through his hands as Rick worked his way over the palm onto the back of his hand. "Isn't that dangerous?" Daryl grunted.
"I don' keep it out of its sheath. I just don' like the idea of somethin' happenin' and me bein' unable to fight back."
"Hm…" Rick mumbled his mouth dangerously close to Daryl's throat. Daryl felt his pulse spike in response. Rick shifted his knees slightly allowing Daryl to extend his cramped legs out. But Rick didn't stop there he rested his body so half of it was on the bed while the other half was on top of Daryl. The heat and pressure of the other man's body sent a flash of heat throughout Daryl's body.
"Um…Rick? Wanna get off now?" Daryl tried to keep the quiver out of his voice. Even though his legs were trembling slightly as the man continued to run his hands over Daryl's arms, stroking each scar tenderly like they were precious pieces of glass that would shatter Daryl into a thousand fragments if they were handled the wrong way.
"Get off? Well I suppose I could but I need a bit of foreplay first." Rick smiled squeezing Daryl's hand tightly with his own. There was a mischievous look to his eyes that made Daryl try to remember what he had said only moments ago. For some reason he was having trouble thinking straight. Daryl could barely hear outside of his heart pounding in his ears. It hit him with a smash of color to his cheeks, he almost wanted to bash his head against the wall at the realization.
"No! I didn' mean it like that!" Daryl tried to explain. He knew for certain his voice was starting to shake with nerves.
"Oh? And how did you mean it?" Rick practically purred in Daryl's ear.
"I mean yer on top of… wait no…not that!" Daryl flushed deeper as Rick's smile grew wider and wider. "I mean just stop touchin' me like that." Daryl tried to shy away from Rick's hands as they started to reach for his shoulders again.
"Is there a certain way you want to be touched?" Rick asked huskily. Daryl couldn't find his voice to respond. His face felt hotter than the goddamn Sahara. "Speechless huh? That's okay." Rick grinned gripping Daryl's shoulders and rubbing small circles in them. "We can make a game of it. I guess and try to find where you really want to be touched." Daryl's eyes half rolled up into his head at Rick's low voice. "Something like this?" Rick breathed out slowly against his neck. Daryl jumped slightly at the sensation it was almost too overestimating for him. "Or maybe that's not good enough. I bet this is better." Rick's tongue slowly dragged a careful line down the pounding pulse point on Daryl's neck.
Daryl bit his lip to stop a whimper from escaping his lips as Rick kissed at the junction between neck and shoulder. "Maybe you like it a little rougher?" Rick asked biting sharply on Daryl's throat. Daryl hissed as his hips bucked upwards against Rick. Rick pressed his right hand against Daryl's hips holding him steady and firmly against the bed. "This is a game remember? Can't give me too many hints." Rick ran his fingers over the hunter's hipbone lazily watching as Daryl's cheeks grew flushed again. Daryl knew he should be pulling away. He should be shoving Rick off him but his mind wasn't really keeping up with the actions going on around it anymore. It had been a long time since anyone had touched him intimately. It had been a good few years since he'd had time to even think about relationships, physical or otherwise.
That sort of thing left his defenses against the man's technique lower than normal. Daryl knew that normally he'd punch anyone who touched him like Rick was. Hell he'd punch them in the jaw and probably stomp on their balls a few times. But this was Rick, they had trust between them. Daryl's dislike of being touched came from the lack of trust and fears from his childhood. But he could trust Rick, surely a few moments remembering what it felt like to have someone actually care for him, couldn't hurt. His mind worked desperately to rationalize the situation to figure out a way for him to be okay with this tomorrow when Rick realized what a mistake he made and how he never wanted to talk to Daryl again.
Daryl's mind started steeling itself for the eventual blow back. But his body was already gone. Enjoying the feeling of having someone's hands on him. The knowledge that just for one moment he mattered to someone. Rick was obviously just trying to get back at him for nearly stabbing him in the throat. He was just doing this to get a rise out of Daryl. Like a joke only without a fake snake and more tongue and touching, Daryl realized. But that realization sent a cold ball of dread and grief flying to the pit of his stomach. Suddenly Daryl's head started to clear. Enough that he heard Rick's next word's perfectly.
"Or maybe you want a new piece to add to the collection." Daryl's eyes shot open at Rick's words. Rick's smile looked strange, he realized belatedly. Almost lopsided like the man had forgotten how to smile and his smile was instead being held up by staples and glue. Rick's eyes no longer had an amused look instead they looked crazed almost deranged and detached.
"Rick?" Daryl whispered. His heart started pounding in his chest for a completely different reason than before. A cold sheen of sweat broke out over Daryl's body. Things didn't seem right. Like going to see a romantic comedy that has a twist ending with psycho serial killer who had a real love of dressing up like his dead mother. Rick leaned back until he was bathed in shadows. But despite the weight being lifted off of his chest, Daryl felt like he couldn't breathe.
There was a cracking sound from above Daryl right in the shadows where Rick was sitting up. It sounded like the man was twisting his head all the way around. The sound was like the sinewy broken sound that comes from snapping a limb. Daryl's instincts were screaming at him to run but his body refused to move.
Suddenly Rick leaned over him again. He gathered Daryl's hands together and squeezed them into one of his large hands. Daryl tried to twist his hands as the bones pressed together painfully. He tried to pull them away from Rick but the man squeezed his hands tighter in warning. Rick pressed Daryl's hands up above his head at an uncomfortably high angle. With his free hand, Rick reached under the pillow and pulled out the hunting knife. The blade glittered off of Rick's eyes which seemed too dark to belong to the officer.
"Let's give ya a new masterpiece to go along with yer collection. After all yer body is a work of art. A monument to the sin of the Dixon blood." Daryl's eyes widened. He realized too late. It wasn't Rick holding the knife it was his father. Daryl's mouth opened to scream but his father was quicker. He brought the knife down hard against his son's throat. The scream silenced as blood started to oozed and cascade down his throat.
Daryl's body shot up like a bullet from a gun. His eyes roving around the room. Searching for his father. His hands reached for his neck, no blood and no wound. Daryl trembled as he pulled his knees up to his chest. His heart was pounding and he couldn't seem to breathe right.
"Just a dream." He muttered hoping the sound of his own voice would force the fear away. "He's dead. He's dead." Daryl whispered over and over as the night wore on. By morning Daryl hadn't dared to sleep again. His lips moving over the words 'he's dead' like it was necessary piece of his sanity. With the first touches of light hitting his window Daryl had lost his voice and could only mouth 'he's dead.'
Before the group woke up, Daryl had gotten dressed, tore the book he'd gotten last night apart and burned it in the fireplace. As he watched the smoke Daryl struggled to even remember the full nightmare from the night before. He rubbed his sore neck and decided that if he forgot, it was probably for the best. Judging by how the nightmare ended, he wasn't certain he wanted to know how it started. Daryl whispered, "he's dead" one final time before going to join the group for breakfast. It was a new day and he wouldn't let a stupid dream stop him from doing his responsibilities for the group.
I need to stop going on vacation. That's all I've really found out. Because I kept trying to post this chapter but the places I went to didn't have internet. (bummer) But the good news is I was able to work a lot on the story during a layover which is nice. I hope there are people out there still reading. I know it's been a while. I'm sorry about that. I started school again today but I'm still intending to write this but it might not be as often. (because I've totally been keeping to my once a week like I had hoped I would...fail.) Just a heads up.
Moving away from boring stuff I hope everyone like the "romance" scene...aka the tease scene. Let me know what you guys think. It's been a real long time since I've written anything close to smut so I'm pretty rusty. I'm hoping it worked out okay. I'd love to hear what people thought. I also tried to go over some of what happened in chapter 8 without doing the whole scene word for word (sometimes that gets real old if you ask me.) Anyway like always read and review if you have the chance. Everyone's comments while I was working made me so happy, I kept looking over them while saying "have to give some sort of a romance scene even if it's only a tease one." Hopefully everyone realizes it means the idea is taking root in their minds! Anyway hopefully I'll see you all in the next chapter!
