Authors notes
Please be warned that this chapter contains explicit violence.
Thought I'd post this up before the weekend as I won't be home until Monday
Enjoy!
Daryl was running, his feet pounding against the loose asphalt path, his heart slammed against his ribcage and his long fringe whipped across his face. He gulped short breaths as his mouth went dry and his lungs burned. He watched Merle's form ahead of him. Taller. Stronger. Older. Faster. He didn't look back at his younger brother, didn't turn back to help him, just kept running; his blue shirt flapping wildly in the air.
Daryl could feel himself slowing down, his legs felt like they were going to buckle underneath him, muscles – raw and burning, his lungs felt charred. The pounding footsteps got louder...faster... closer... Daryl panicked and slipped on a loose piece of the road, his legs crumpled, slamming him against the floor, he felt the skin rip off his cheek as it was dragged across the asphalt, he could feel the wet warmth of blood spreading around his knees, elbows and the palms of his hands. He cried out as a forceful kick was delivered to the side of his ribcage, knocking the air out of him before he was yanked to his feet by his matted brown hair, he screamed and lashed out at his captor, he was met with a sharp punch to his cut cheek. The silhouette of Merle vanished down the empty road, he didn't turn back.
Daryl cried out. No-one could hear him.
He gave up...he couldn't do this...couldn't escape him.
He blinked, the world changing around him...they were in a house now, Merle was older...just before he went to prison, he had blood coming out of his mouth. Fear. Real fear reflected in his eyes. Nothing scared Merle. He was looking behind Daryl as he wiped away the blood with his forearm; spitting roughly on the ground. Merle was shouting at the person behind him, but Daryl couldn't hear... his ears were ringing, he felt shaky and dizzy... it took him a second to realize what had happened... a fist collided with the side of his head, Merle stared in horror at his little brother, shouting as he dropped to the floor. Everything went black.
Please make it stop. Please.
He opened his eyes again mere seconds later, and he was in his house again. Merle wasn't there... he was older now but his father still towered over him, he was sneering venom at Daryl, his face contorted in an unspeakable rage. Panic hit Daryl as he took in his surroundings...the situation... his father's face, he realized what was going to happen, it was today. He remembered...this is a dream...wake up.
No, please. Please wake up.
His father had one arm pressed against Daryl's neck, practically choking him, still spitting in his face with every poisonous word, he breath reeked of moonshine and cigarettes. He gripped Daryl's throat, digging into his soft flesh with his jagged fingernails.
Daryl cried out in pain. Make it stop.
He felt his father's hands on him now, the sickening feeling of his rough, calloused skin trying to squeeze the life out of him. His feet left the ground and he was smashed face first into the wall, his lip splitting open from the force. He choked a cry, struggling from his dad's vice grip. Above the noise Daryl heard the click. That sound haunted him. His heart pounded against his ribcage, fear filling every atom of his being. A sharp rip tore his shirt from his back, the dirty fabric fell against the back of Daryl's legs as it crumpled to the floor.
"D'ya know wha' this is boy?" the voice sneered.
No. This can't be happening...this is a dream wake up.
The side of the cold blade ran slowly across the skin between his shoulder blades, Daryl screamed in agony as the blade tore across his skin, ripping the flesh apart. Again and again.
This is too real, this can't be a dream. This isn't happening. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up
Daryl
His eyes bolted open as the sleep-induced paralysis was ripped away from him, he felt his fingers digging into soft flesh. His vision began to focus, heart still hammering in his chest and the sweat covering his body chilled him to the bone. A figure swam into his conciousness as his eyes locked on a pair of terrified blue eyes, they stared down at him. It was Beth. It was a dream. A noise left his throat that he had never heard before, a mix of anguish and relief – unspeakable relief at being safe.
"Daryl," She whispered, his eyes had been fixated on hers since they opened, she'd never seen them so fearful.
Emotion overwhelmed him, using his grasp on her shoulders he pulled her down into his arms, her face warm and alive against the cold skin of his shoulder as he clutched her to his chest, sobs racked against her as his walls came crashing down around him.
"What happened? I heard you crying out, I had to wake you up," She murmured, pulling away from the embrace, leaning on her elbow and looking down into his confused eyes.
It was her. She woke him up. She saved him. Another pitiful noise escaped his throat, acting on utter instinct, without a second thought or time to consider the implications of what he was about to do, his hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her soft lips against his.