Disclaimer: I do not own TWD
The door opened softly and a pair of feet could be heard walking over to the messy bed. A body softly flopped down and moaned in pain. Deena peeked her head from under her pillow, her eyes still heavy with sleep. She rolled over to her stomach, pushing the pillow under her head. The person rested their head on her flat stomach and moaned again.
"I'm never drinking again." Glenn muttered, covering his eyes with his forearm. Deena stared at the ceiling, nodding. She knew he couldn't see her but her throat felt too dry for her to even speak. Her mouth tasted like she had licked a toilet and her head was pounding. Glenn sat up and moved to the top of the bed. "This is your fault. You just had to keep refilling my glass. I never made it to bed you know. I woke up on the cafeteria floor. You'd think someone would have been nice enough to put me to bed."
Deena let out a dry laugh before forcing herself to sit up. She ran her fingers through her matted hair. She could already tell it was sticking up in all directions and she must have looked crazy.
"Sorry. I'm not even sure how I got to bed."
"Too bad I didn't wake up naked next to you." Glenn playfully wiggled his eyebrows making Deena laugh.
"As much as we drank, I doubt either of us would have been able to do anything anyway."
The door across the hall opened, catching the pair's attention. Daryl walked out, fully dressed. He glanced at Deena, but didn't say anything as he walked past her door. She found it a odd that he didn't comment on her and Glenn being in bed together. Usually he'd pounce on the chance to make a rude joke at her expense. She shrugged her shoulders, deciding not to think too deep into it. Maybe he was too hung over to even be rude.
"Glenn, get out. I need to shower."
Glenn looked around the room. "This isn't even your room. You're stuff's not in here." Deena frowned, realizing he was right.
"Well… I guess we'll both be getting out of this room."
"No, you mean you're getting out. I can't move without feeling like I wanna hurl what I don't have in my stomach."
"Toughen up Glenn." She joked, getting out of bed slowly. Her stomach jumped to her throat for a moment, but she quickly pushed it down. She'd puke when she reached the comfort of her room, wherever it was.
"Sleep well?" Dale asked as Deena sat next to him with just a cup of coffee. He flashed her a knowing smile. She frowned.
"You know I feel like shit."
"Maybe next time you shouldn't drink too much."
"Blah, blah, blah, you sound like my dad."
"He must have been a wise man."
Deena blew softly over her steaming cup. "If you say so."
Daryl sat down at the end of the table with a plate of food T-dog had whipped up. Powdered eggs and freeze dried meat. Back to his normal brooding self, he sat silently, eating. Deena smirked. She didn't feel well, but she felt fine enough to pick on Daryl.
"I didn't know you hicks ate anything other than squirrel and other rodents." He looked at her, but didn't reply. She shifted awkwardly in her seat and looked down at her cup. She wasn't sure what to say now, he usually had a smart remark for her.
Dale pretended to be minding his own business, but really he was more interested in Daryl and Deena. It was too quiet for his liking between the two. He would have been fooling himself if he said he hadn't grown accustom to their constant bickering.
Glenn staggered in, rubbing his temples and squinting his eyes. "It's too bright in here." He complained as he took a seat across from Deena. She slid her cup across to him. "Is there alcohol in this?" he asked, skeptically eyeing the cup.
She rolled her eyes. "No, it's just coffee. Drink up, you need it more than me."
Daryl continued to eat, but he also discreetly watch her at the same time. She didn't seem to remember last night, and he liked it better that way. Unfortunately, he couldn't seem to forget and God knows he wanted to. He had a number of mean things to say to Deena, but for some reason he couldn't. He still didn't like her, but he also didn't hate her as much anymore. What the fuck happened? Since when did Daryl Dixon give two flying fucks about Deena James, the bitch that made him think of creative ways to kill a person. Fucking Wild Turkey, killing the flame that made it so easy to hate Deena.
She wasn't bad looking either. Daryl groaned, catching everyone's attention. He could feel three sets of eyes on him, but he mostly felt Deena's beady ones. She wasn't bad looking now? When did that happen? He never did think she was hideous or anything. She had a decent rack, but he was an ass kind of man. She had a nice one and he had noticed it the first day she joined their group. Her butt reminded him of a bubble, perfectly round and plump. He wanted to bang his head into the table. He always said he'd never screw her because she was such a bitch and that made her unattractive, but something shifted in him. Fucking Wild Turkey, making that bitch seem human. She wasn't human, no human could annoy him the way she did. She had been an 'it', but now she wasn't. She was a woman with a nice ass and a cute face.
Fucking Wild Turkey, making annoying bitches suddenly seem attractive.
"So you have no idea what it is?" Andrea asked, running a shaky hand through her blonde locks. "That's fucking great." They had all gathered in Dr. Jenner's computer lab. Everyone was curious to know what happened and what answers he could offer.
Dr. Jenner frowned, looking at the large screen that had just moments ago replayed the footage of his wife turning into a walker. He had explained the best he could what he knew about the virus that was creating walkers. He hated to admit that even though he had a little knowledge, he really had no idea what was going on.
"It could be a few things. Parasitic perhaps." He suggested as if they would have feedback to offer.
"Or the wrath of God." Jacqui spoke, crossing her arms over her chest.
"There is that." He admitted. It was a possibility, but he liked to take a scientific approach to things.
"So no one knows what's going on?" Deena asked, rubbing her bare arms.
"Maybe." Dr. Jenner interjected. "There may be some people like me left out there that have answers."
"You don't know? How don't you know?" Rick asked, frustrated from the lack of answers. This was not going how he had planned.
"Everything went down. I've been in the dark for almost a month." Dr. Jenner confessed.
"So it's not just here? There's nothing left anyway, that's what you're really saying." Andrea walked to a desk and slid down it, cradling her knees to her chest.
Daryl rubbed his face hard. "Man, I wanna get shitfaced drink again."
Deena sighed, leaning against one of the computer desks. Daryl had the right idea for once. She hadn't been sure what she was hoping to find out at the CDC, but she was sure this wasn't it.
"This is fucking great." She mumbled. "Fan-fucking-tasic."
"Dr. Jenner, I know this has been taxing for you and I hate to ask one more question, but that clock is counting down," Dale motioned to the large digital clock on the wall. "What happens at zero?"
"The uh basement generators run out of fuel." He answered as he started to walk away, lowering his head.
"And then?" ignoring Rick, Dr. Jenner left the room. "Vi, what happens when the fuel runs out?"
"When the power runs out, facility wide decontamination will occur."
"Decontamination of what? Germs or something?" Deena asked, know they had as good of an idea as she did.
"Listen, I want you guys to go back to your rooms. Shane, T-dog, and Glenn come with me to the basement, we're gonna check on the fuel."
"You gonna pass that bottle or hog it?" Deena asked, leaning against Daryl's door frame. He took another swig of his Southern Comfort before looking at her.
"Don't think you need to be drinking any more. You get all bitch ass when you do." His tone was teasing.
"What?" she pushed herself off the frame and stepped into the room.
"Did I say you could come in here?"
"Shut up, I invited myself in. Ain't like you hicks got manners anyway, so what does it matter." She fired, waiting for him to say something back. Instead he just looked at her, drinking some more. She ran her hand through her hair growing frustrated. What had she done the night before that had Daryl acting this way? Did she suck his dick and forget? Was he waiting for the perfect moment to spring it on her that they had crazy, hot, sweaty, redneck sex on the floor by the foot of his bed? Why was that thought so descriptive anyway?
"Did you come here for a reason James?"
"I… What the fuck Dixon? Did we fuck or something?"
Daryl's eyes widened for a moment before he let out a small chuckle. There was no humor in it at all. "Me fuck you? Not in your dreams. You can't even get me hard doll face."
She hated to admit it, but he had hurt her feelings. No woman wanted to be told that, no matter how much she may have disliked the man. "You ain't my type no how." She snapped, sounding angrier than she meant to.
"A Dixon is every woman's type."
"Shut up trailer trash." She hissed before snatching his bottle from his hand.
"That fuck you doing you bitch." There was the Daryl she knew. "You best not take a man's drink like that ever again." He snatched the bottle back.
"I would never take a man's drink." Deena mockingly smiled as she placed emphasis on the word 'man'. He was opened his mouth to say something but closed it. He stood up and held his hand up to the vent and frowned. "What's wrong?"
"The air is off." The lights suddenly flickered and Deena knew something was wrong. "What the fuck."
A/N: I feel like I should explain why I haven't updated this in a while. Originally it was because I was focused on writing the sequel to World Without Words, but when I went back and re-read Silver Morning... I had some major issues with the direction it was going. It was becoming too cliche for me. So I'm doing some major editing to get it back to the original direction I wanted to take it.