Chapter 5

He was hunting, and there were blessedly few walkers today. But it was raining and the game was not plentiful. He had been noticing a lot of snares in this area lately. They were amateur, but effective, getting most of the small game. Then he saw, cutting loose a rabbit out of a trap, a woman. He approached her cautiously, bow aimed at her. He asked her over and over again who she was without reply. But he knew who it was- it was May, all decked out in survivalist gear. She beckoned him to follow her, and he did, as if transfixed. They walked to the entrance of a well-hidden bunker, that somehow held the entire cabin inside. She led him with a gentile hand towards a door that he hadn't noticed before, and she finally spoke; "This is your room Darryl! Welcome home!" She threw it open, and from the darkness swarmed a hoard of walkers, impossibly fast. And she was laughing at him as he ran, desperate... And he woke to the harsh ring of a phone.

The alarm on May's phone woke them all up, and in a whirl of activity they were off. May got the boys clean clothes, lunches packed, and cash for them to buy breakfast at school. The three of them moved like a hurricane around him, and he kept to the couch to stay out of their way. She drove the boys to the bus stop with hardly a glance at Daryl, leaving him on the couch feeling a little shell shocked. He got up, stoked the fire, and ate a couple of cold biscuits with butter and jam. Ten minutes later, May was back in the house. Her hair was damp from the rain, and her cheeks were red with cold. She shuffled off her wet shoes and sweater; leaving her standing next to the fire in nothing but yoga pants and that white tank top again. The white tank top. He tried not to look, he really did. But her skin tight clothing was something that he was just not use to. She shivered and finally addressed him. "I'm sorry, but I'm kind of a hot mess in the morning. Even on normal mornings. You just miss all the fun because you get here after I've made myself decent looking and had a cup of coffee."

He shrugged, and started to dig through the cupboards. "I'ma make some food. You want?" She nodded. "Then you better get back under the covers and get the fuck out of my way. You aren't the only one bitchy in the morning." She did so, moaning at the feeling of warm blankets wrapping around her. She nodded off, not waking up again until she felt him shake her arm a little. Her eyes opened to a plate sitting on the edge of the bed, filled with food. "Eat. And keep that blanket around you. I can't have you gettin' sick."

She ate, blanket around her shoulders, as peaceful as she had been in a long while. She looked around a little at what he had been up to while she slept. It was tidier then before; bedding was folded, and her sweater that she left on the floor was now on the back of one of the kitchen chairs, drying by the fire. She ventured to look at Daryl, scooping pile after pile of eggs into his mouth. He looked as fidgety as always inside the house, like a big handsome ball of phobias and quirks. "Take a picture, it'll last longer." He stated flatly, staring into the fire.

She turned her head a little to the side before asking; "What do you do with yourself when you aren't here? I prattle on about myself all the time. Come on gimmie a little something."

"Ain't nothin' to say."

"You ever hear the phrase 'Still waters run deep'?"

"Yeah."

"Well you are about the stillest water I have ever seen."

"That so?"

"Yeah. Do you hunt around here?"

"A little."

"What do you catch?"

"Squirrel, possum, rabbits. Rodents that the rangers won't give shit for me having caught."

"I haven't had squirrel since I was little. Snake either, my grandfather use to catch them and make earrings for tourists." That got her a little chuckle out of him.

"I keep forgetting you come from rednecks."

"Come on, what else do you get up to?"

He stared at the fire, willing her to quit talking, keeping his thoughts to himself; 'I stand in the woods and watch the kids play because I'm worried about them running off and getting lost like I did. I kill raccoons around your house because I know you fucking hate them. I drink cheap beer at Rick's bar and think about your lips...' He cleared his throat. "Sometimes I go and visit Merle. His sentencing is commin' up and it doesn't look good."

'Well that came out of left field.' She paused with the thought for a moment, having expected something more along the lines of strip clubs and biker bar fights. "When is it? I recused myself from anything to do with his case, since I know him."

"It's next week. Jess keeps riden' me to go, but I don't know."

"Would you mind if I went? I wouldn't want to overstep."

"No, I mean, yeah, that would be great. I sure he would love seeing..."

"Someone with a rack?" She grinned.

"Yeah," he chuckled, "I suppose he would."

"So Daryl. Breakfast in bed. A girl could get use to this."

"Shut up."

"I'm dead serious. Anytime you want to wake me up with some bacon or waffles, just go for it. House key is under the mat."

"You use to just letting strange men in your house?"

She pretended to wince. "Ouch! But no. Just you. You're all the strange I need."

He didn't respond, and she didn't seem to expect him too; she had begun flipping through her cell phone. He finished eating, a knot in his stomach. What the hell was she playing at? Goddamn women, always being fucking complicated. Meanwhile, May was silently berating herself. 'Just had to keep going, didn't ya dumbass? You just had to poke that bear.' She finished eating and took both their plates to the sink. She filled her biggest pot with water and lugged it over to the stove.

"What the fucks that for?" He growled at her, clearly still grumpy.

'Kill 'em with kindness' was her thought before putting on her smile. "Coffee first, then a whore's bath in the sink, and then dishes if there's any left. Then I need to look into the freezer and see what can be saved and what to be tossed."

"Whore's bath? What the fuck is that?" He squinted up at her, lips in a little sneer.

"A washcloth, a sink full of water, and as much washing you can do before your ass begins to freeze."

He made a little exasperated sound and turned back to the fire. "That why you called in to work? You couldn't shower?"

"That and a freezer of food that needs to go before it starts to stink." She stuck her tongue out at him. "Smart ass."

May busied herself picking up while he kept the fire extra hot. He felt lost in a quagmire, like she was some kind of evil river monster that had lured him into dangerous water. It pissed him off- a lot. But no matter how much pissy attitude he showed, she never seemed to falter in her friendliness towards him. He watched while she threw out food, and berated her shopping choices. He taunted her girly-ness when she was in the bathroom washing and putting on her makeup. Even the way she had made the coffee.

Finally, he seemed to get to her when she was looking for her keys. "You got that princess, or you need my help with that too?"

"Daryl, I don't know what crawled up your ass. But I am asking you please, stop it or so help me."

Now this was familiar territory for him. Anger, threats, this he could do. "Or what? You gunna kick me out?"

Instead of yelling she approached him, slowly, where he sat on the arm of the couch. His arms were wrapped around him, and she got so close that her chest brushed his arm hair. She was smiling tightly, almost glowering. His head pulled back a little, unsure what she had in mind; a slap, a punch, screaming?

Instead, her voice was quiet. "You know, just because you have a bee in your bonnet doesn't mean I like you any less. I need you to know that. Now, I need to go into town for a bit to re-charge my phone and get some food for dinner. I will probably also get myself a cheeseburger because after the last hour, I really fucking deserve it. If you want to leave this house and never come back, then it's your choice, it's not like I have you handcuffed to a chair. The other option is that you can make it up to me my giving me a ride into town on your motorcycle while there's a break in the weather. Either way, I want you to go take a walk and cool off a little, because clearly something I've said has pissed you off royally. I'm leaving in half an hour. I hope I see you again; and I really do." She turned and went upstairs to her room and shut the door, listening for him to leave. And when he did, she worked hard to hold back tears, hoping that that was not the last time she would see him.

He left towards his trailer, mulling over what she had said. Goddamn it. How had she done it? Gone and taken a perfectly good fight and turned it around on him? Now he felt like garbage, worse than that even. Because it was his own fault. He stumbled down the now well-worn path between their two homes, hardly looking up from his feet. He considered not going back- it would be the easiest option after all. But when he walked into the stone cold metal box that was his home, he knew he couldn't do it. He ran to Merle's room, and started digging through his closet.

It was almost five minutes past the time she said she would leave. It had been hard, but she didn't cry. She was sitting on the porch, feeling like a moron, when she heard the deep rumble of a motorcycle coming up the driveway. Daryl pulled off his helmet. "Sorry I'm late, but I had to find the helmet that Merle's ex-girlfriend left in his room."

She was giving him her grin again. "I'll go get my jacket." He nodded and waited for her to return. She came back with a serviceable leather jacket and a backpack on. "Ok, so I haven't been on a bike since I was in college."

"Huh. Is that why you want to take my bike and not your car?"

"Yeah." She chewed her lip, looking it over. "So will you show me what to do?" All of a sudden she looked so young and excited.

"Yeah, here..." He took a couple of minutes, walking her through how to lean when he turned, how to sit, how not to get burned by the pipe. She was strapping on the helmet when he cleared his throat a little. "So, um, I don't know, you wan'a maybe ride around a little? I just got my bike back out of pawn and I haven't been able to ride her much yet, I mean, if you don't want too..."

"Daryl, I can't think of anything I would rather be doing. And honestly, I am really fucking excited. So can we get this show on the road?" He gave her an awkward nod and mounted the bike. When she followed suit, he gave her a moment to settle in before starting it. Then they took off over the mountains for over an hour, enjoying the little bit of midday sun they had before the rains came back. He enjoyed the feel of her behind him, aside from a few helmet to helmet taps. He was worried that he wouldn't be able to let his thoughts wonder, but they did. He felt more lost then he had in a very long time. He understood fear, anger, hurt, guilt. But having it all mixed up with- what? He didn't know, and even the idea of thinking about it scared him. He pushed away whatever 'it' was to the back of his mind. He focused on the physical, her thighs wrapped around him, and how they would grip when she got nervous. The feel of her breasts pressed into him when he would stop short, or the grip of her hands on his torso.

After while he pulled off at a divey looking bar on the outskirts of town with the name 'Ricks' at the top. She pulled off her helmet and fussed with her hair. "I've passed this place a bunch of times, you know it?"

"Yeah, that guy Rick," he pointed to the sign, "he's alright."

They walked in, eyes adjusting to the low light. It was pretty dead, only a few old drunks spread out over the shabby interior, looking half alive in their slow, aching manner. She felt his hand on the small of her back, leading her to booth along the wall. She sat, depositing her helmet, jacket, and bag next to her. He nodded a little, as if trying to convince himself of something, before sitting. He had his elbows on the table and his hand over his face as if trying to shield himself. "Thanks for the drive, I really enjoyed it. I can see why you would take that thing everywhere." He nodded again, and she began to worry that they were right back where they started.

She was plugging in her phone when a wiry looking man with a grey beard approached the table. "Daryl. Haven't ever seen you sit over here away from the bar. Course I haven't ever seen you out with a lady before either."

"Hi, I'm May, nice to meet you."

"I'm Rick. Daryl's a regular of mine." He turned to Daryl. "So this is May?" Daryl shot Rick a murderous look, but Rick only laughed.

She let out a nervous chuckle. "I guess you've heard of me then? Daryl comes in here to blow off steam about his shitty neighbor?"

Rick pulled a rickety looking wooden chair from another table and sat down with them. "Well I may have..."

Daryl stood suddenly; "If you two ladies are gunna have a chat about yur feelings, I'm gunna go hit the head" before storming off.

"He's been a little on the bitchy side all day. And for the life of me I do not know why." She shook her head a little, watching him walk away.

"Huh. Well if you don't know..."

"What, does Daryl have some deep dark secret that everybody knows but me?" She leaned in solemnly; "Rick? Is Daryl a werewolf?"

He gave a chuckle. "That's good. You know, he might as well be, as moody as he gets. But no, just another man who's having trouble figuring out how in head over heels he is."

"Wait, what?" She could have bored a hold in Rick, how hard she was looking at him. "Are you talking about me?"

He winked and gave her a little smile.

"Come on, spill it Rick. Give a girl a little help here."

"Aint' really none of my business, now is it? I'm just here to keep the drunks in line."

"That's right old man, just mind your business." Daryl had just popped out of the bathroom and was walking back towards them.

"Old man?" Rick scoffed; "We are just about the same age Dixon. You're the one robbing the cradle over here." He pointed with his thumb towards May.

"Shut up Rick." Daryl was getting that 'them's fighten' words' tone in his voice.

May let out a short laugh. "Jesus, I'm only about ten years younger than Daryl. It's not like it's a huge deal."

"Well there you go Daryl; I don't know why you make a big deal out of these things." Daryl shot him another look. "Now, what can I bring you?"

"Two beers and two burgers. And quit bein' an asshole."

"I'll start when you do Dixon. May, it's been a pleasure. I have no idea what you see in this piece of road kill over here. I'll be right back with your food." Unlike Daryl, she laughed off Rick and thanked him. She took a moment and watched Daryl, elbows back on the table, one hand rubbing his beard. He looked cagey and nervous, like a man about to be interrogated for murder. She finally took pity on him and broke the silence.

"Well I see why you come here, Rick does seem like a nice guy."

"Nice guy my ass. You know, he used to be a cop."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I guess he quit after some shit with his wife cheatin' on him with some other dude he worked with."

"Jesus. That's fucked up."

He made a little snorting noise; scoffing at her statement.

"What?" She crossed her arms.

"It's just the way it goes."

"Not for everybody. Not every woman is some conniving bitch."

"Most of the ones I've known are." He gave her a challenge with his eyes. Or was it a test? She felt like he had been testing her all day long.

She sighed. "You're right." His brow furrowed, unsure where she was going with this. "I have met more than my fair share of evil women. But I've known a lot of good for nothing, lazy, inconsiderate men too." She paused while Rick brought them over beers. She took a long drink off of hers before continuing. "I think it just comes down to finding good people. They are out there, and I'll be damned if I quit looking. Bad people have taken a lot from me in life Daryl, but I won't let them take my hope."

He just could not figure her out. How did she take something so hostile, and just- make it beautiful? Everything she touched seemed to get better; even him. "Sorry I've been such an asshole." He couldn't look at her. Somehow her smile would just make it all worse again.

"Jesus, its fine Daryl. You're allowed to a be an old grump. Just don't ride me too hard, huh? I'll try and cut you some slack, and you do the same for me?"

"Alright."

"Good. Because if you lost your temper and never came back, I don't know what I would do." She sighed again. 'Might as well put some cards on the table girl.' Her thoughts were tough but she tried to keep her tone light. "I've really come to rely on you Daryl. Honestly, I don't trust a lot of people. But I think I can really trust you."

"Are we going to start braiding each other's hair and writing in our diaries now?" He scoffed, a little smile on his face.

She wadded up a paper napkin and threw it at his chest. "Damn it Daryl we were having a moment."

Rick approached their table with plates. "Sorry to interrupt your moment there with your redneck Romeo, but the foods here and burning the shit out of my hands." He placed the food in front of them and started to walk away, but made a half turn to address Daryl again. "Next time you take a girl on a date- maybe not take her to roadhouse Daryl."

"Fuck you Rick." Daryl shot him the finger and began to eat, only glancing at May. She seemed to not be offended by Rick- and didn't contradict him either. He didn't talk about her that much, did he? So much to think about, and so much he didn't understand. They ate silently, but not uncomfortably. Daryl wolfed down all his food quickly, but May took her time. She dumped most of her fries on his empty plate, which he sheepishly dug into as well. He drove her to the local grocery, and true to her word she only left him waiting fifteen minutes for her outside. Then they headed home, slowly, Daryl taking his time driving around the back country before going up the mountain.

When they pulled up to the house she took the helmet off her head and smiled. "I'm going to need one of these. I will probably kill myself, but I need one."

They dismounted, and when he took off his helmet she was happy to see him smiling too. "I'm glad you had a good time. Not every girl is down with riding bikes."

"Well I had a blast." They walked into the house, and she gingerly shuffled off the heavy pack onto the counter. "Oh my god, it felt like flying- how could you not love that?"

He bellied up to the counter where she was unloading the food. "So, um, lights are still out."

"Yes..."

"So, um..." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'ma go get some clean clothes. If you still want me here."

"Daryl," she chided, "of course I want you here." She wiped her hands on her pants. "I'll walk with you over there, if you don't mind the company." He nodded, in his awkward way. She had slowly learned his language; a combination of flinches and looks that he used instead of words. He was bouncing a little on his feet, watching her put away food. 'Forecast calls for a happy Daryl with a hint of agitation.' she mused with a little laugh.

"What you laughen' at?"

"Nothing sweetheart. Just myself." She hadn't meant to call him that, anymore then how she called him sugar. But it was out now and bringing attention to it would only be more embarrassing. She looked around a little, then back to him. "Alright, let's get going then. Not a lot of time left before the kids get home."

They walked slowly through the woods, his eyes cast down, hers up. He kept falling behind her, so she linked one arm around his. "Just in case you get any ideas about ditching me out here." He scoffed at her, but said nothing else, letting her arm rest in the crook of his. They didn't speak, but twice he stopped, pointing out birds in the trees. Every time she would smile and give his arm a little squeeze. He still didn't know what to do with all the gentleness. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't just touch her back. Jesus, he didn't even know how. He felt so stupid, a man his age should know how to deal with women. How to treat them the way they should be treated- the good ones anyway. May never seemed to mind though, hell she might even understand. The thought startled him, and in a way, lifted a little something off of him that he didn't know was giving him weight. He was still working on this thought when they came around his trailer. And were spotted by four large bikers.

They were after drugs. The drugs that Merle had, apparently, stolen from them after the robbery. They had roughed up Daryl a little when he hadn't produced any relevant information about the stolen goods. They had just one guy watching May, the barrel of a 45. pressed under her chin, and were about to break one of Daryl's fingers when she piped up, her voice steady and unaffected.

"That's a strange thought process. Thinking that somehow more pain will produce what that black eye hasn't." One of the men was clearly calling the shots, and he turned to Daryl.

"Interesting. Maybe we've been going at this all wrong." The two others held Daryl against the trailer, a hand over his mouth, his eyes darting around as he fought against them. The leader approached her, grabbing her cheeks until her lips pressed into a pucker. "We could have some real good times with this little filly. Wouldn't we honey?" Instead of fearful, her face remained passive, even board. He released her mouth, expecting pleas for mercy. He got none.

He was turning away from her when she piped up. "I stand by my statement. You're going about this all the wrong way."

He laughed in a way that didn't make her at all comfortable. "Continue."

"You're a business man. You don't have track marks on your arms, meth mouth, or any other visible sign of drug use so I'm assuming your mostly in it for the money. I get that. Merle took your shit and you want it back. Roughing up his brother may be fun, but it won't get your product back. Anybody that knows the Dixon boys know that Merle is a shady prick and Daryl doesn't do drugs. He doesn't give a damn about any pills his brother has. You would be much better off getting someone to beat Merle's ass in jail then his brother's ass out here."

He got uncomfortably close to her, his eyes almost black. "But beating up his brother and raping their little friend will ensure that Merle gives me what I want. You understand?"

Her look was steady, but her voice a little exasperated. "You and I both know that Merle's going away for at least 15 years. Why wouldn't he just tell you where the drugs are? He can't use them anyway- why would he give a shit?

"Well, well, well. That is the question of the day, isn't it? It's something we've been asking ourselves as well. Our man on the inside said that old Merle has been giving him the cold shoulder- not a peep. And that's not a really good way to stay healthy in jail."

"Well then, it appears that we have a mutually beneficial situation here. Everybody knows Merle has a soft spot for woman, so Daryl and I'll speak to Merle for you and get the information you require. You, in turn, are gracious enough not to inflict anymore physical harm on myself or my companion."

He put a finger under her chin. "You are very well spoken- not the kind of whore that the Dixon's normally fuck." She kept her composure. "I might have to take you for myself."

"I really doubt you would want that."

He felt her breast. "And why do you say that. You seem pretty smart, and that's not a very smart thing to say."

She let a level of coldness settle over her features. "Because I'm a biter. And it won't happen the first time you take me. Or the 20th. But I will bite."

"Oooo. She's gunna Lorana Bobbitt me boys!" The men all gave out a little chuckle.

She dropped her voice lower, her eyes dead on him. "Not your cock. I'll wait till you're asleep. I'll even make you think I've begun to enjoy it. Then I'll rip out your carotid artery with my teeth. It's not that hard, if you know where to bite."

He laughed, hauntingly at her. "I know it well. But what if I just break out all your pretty teeth? All the better to suck my dick."

"That's the problem though, isn't it? With women like me. Just too smart to handle. It will always be something. You would always have to keep an eye out for every opportunity I would have to hurt you. Because I would only need one chance."

"You have a point their baby. You're trouble all over, aren't cha?" He turned back to Daryl, still fighting against the two men holding him. "She's a handful. I actually feel a little sorry for you brother. Let em' both go." He turned back to May one last time. "Don't forget me honey. Because if you don't get my stuff, I'll be back- a Savage Son never forgets. And I would love to find a way to break you. And I would break you." He slapped her hard and she felt the inside of cheek rip on her own teeth. They kept a gun on Daryl until they mounted their bikes and rode off, leaving dust and horror in their wake.

She stood for a moment and let her eyes close, breathing deep. She could hear Daryl vaguely in the background cursing and kicking something. Then he turned his rage on her, his face now inches from hers. "...and what the fuck was that all about huh? Goddamn stupid cunt. That dude Bleeker, he wouldn't have just raped you ya know. He would have spent hours with you- days even. Here I thought you were a hell of a lot smarter than that. You should have just let me handle it. Now you're on their radar, now they expect you. What the fuck is wrong with you..."

Her voice was quiet and steady. "I made us valuable to them."

"What did you say? Are you trying to justify..."?

"I SAVED OUR LIVES DARYL!" She screamed with such force that he took several steps back, the shock evident on his face. "DAMN IT!" She ran her hands through her hair, her heart still beating so fast she could barely hear anything else. "Fuck this" she whispered, and stormed off into the woods.

He didn't know what had just happened inside her head, but he could recognize the signs of someone snapping. He paused for only a moment, deciding that whatever she was going to do to cope, it couldn't be very good. She didn't get far. He found her down the path, beating her fist against a tree. He threw himself at her, holding her arms from behind. "Damn it woman, what's wrong with you! Calm down, calm the fuck down!" He had to wrestle her, and she fought him hard. Finally, he got her turned around facing him; her eyes feral and deadly.

"What the fuck do you care you son of a bitch? I took care of it. It's what I do. You think you're the only one with a criminal past? The only one who did things they aren't proud of just to stay alive? Men like that are wild fucking animals who follow whoever's in charge. So I took charge. Which seems to have fucking offended you. So what the fuck do you care if I'm out here blowing off some steam? I'm just a stupid fucking cunt right?"

He wouldn't look at her, just growled and rubbed his hands over his face. She turned around and hit the tree again, the skin on her middle knuckle finally splitting open, bloodying up her hand. She felt his fingers lightly brush her arm. She turned back around to see his eyes pleading with her. She leaned against the tree and slid down, her ass hitting the cold forest floor. He sat in front of her, his arms draped on his knees, staring at her bloody hand. Suddenly she let go inside, her oldest and best defense mechanism kicking in to protect her, as it had so many times before. Her gaze went long and her mind went quiet, like a factory full of machines shutting down. No thought, no focus. He looked at her face and recognized her look, the place where your mind goes when it can't cope. He reached out with a tentative hand and wiped at the blood on her lip with his thumb. The slight contact brought her back a little and she looked into his eyes. He let his hand fall to her broken one, and touched it gently, asking; "Why?"

She laughed, a hollow empty thing that made his heart hurt. "I'll take physical pain over what's in my head any day." She rolled up her sleeve a little and showed him a white scar on her forearm. "I gave myself this when my father blew his brains out." She pulled up her pants leg and showed him her shin, with another long thin line. "This one I don't even really remember how I got. I remember something about my mother being drunk and throwing shit at me. The rest is just a fog in my head." She rubbed her hand over her eyes, the adrenaline slowly running out of her body. "I never tried to kill myself. For me it's always been the opposite. The pain keeps me focused- keeps me alive. I know it doesn't make any sense. And I know you're probably thinking I'm creepy and gross..." He let go of her hand and pulled his shirt over his head, letting her see him. He kept his eyes lowered and didn't say a word, but she understood- what it took to show someone else the scars. Someone who really knew what they meant. She stood up, running her hands over him. The little divots from cigarettes, the thick welts from a belt.

She leaned on her knees in front of him, pulling his shirt back down, her voice low. "So I see I'm not the only one with battle wounds. Aren't we a pair?" She ran her fingers through his hair, his face still lowered. She leaned over, wrapping her arms around his neck, and buried her face in his hair. "We are gunna' figure this thing out, you and I. Don't you worry. I've gotten out of worse than this. We both have."

He looked up at her, that beautiful face that he had come to trust. "I'm sorry I called you all them names. I didn't mean it."

She brushed his hair back and smiled weakly. "I know sweetheart. But I appreciate you saying it." She thought he was going to kiss her, but instead he let his forehead softly connect with hers.

They stayed that way for a moment, until she pulled away, kissing him on the forehead before letting him go. "Come on, let's go get your clothes." He gave her shaky nod and followed her lead when she grabbed his hand and led him back to the trailer.