Daryl ground his teeth together and skidded to a halt, cutting the engine of the bike. He had come further out that he usually did, hoping to find a goldmine of supplies, like food and maybe some more baby formula. He also wanted to get away from it, to try and clear his thoughts. He needed to get Carol out his mind but she was always there, lingering in his memories and popping into his head randomly.
He realized he had been a dick to Carol, he had been rude to her, he had shunned her. But she had just gave up so easily, usually she fought for his attention, usually she fought for his coversation, she sought him out. She usually always came looking for him, not the other way round. But she had just let it be today, she had accepted his rejection and that made Daryl feel worse. It made him feel like he wasn't important to her, like he didn't matter anymore now that she had Tyreese, and that made him angry. He was being replaced.
Stop being silly, you didn't give her a chance.
Daryl sighed and rolled his bike further into town, using his feet to push him along. It would be easier than having to carry things back to bike and load them in the saddle bags. the town looked like it had been ignored all through the apocalypse. Daryl stopped as he came to a cluster of stores, a pharmacy, a bar, a grocery store and a jewellery store. Daryl climbed off his bike, armed his crossbow and pulled a rucksack out his saddlebags before going into the bar.
A lone walker sat at the bar, groaning but made no attempt to move. Daryl crept up behind it, pulled it off it's stool and stomped down on it's head. He kept stomping until his boot and pant leg was covered in brain matter and black blood. He was venting his anger. He finally stopped and clambered over the bar. He hit the jackpot. He grabbed bottles of scotch, bourbon, a few bottles of wine (for the more refined residents) and a couple of bottles of vodka. He realized people probably wouldn't drink the vodka but it could be used to sterilize wounds or whatever. He loaded the bottles into his rucksack before easily locating the cellar. He could hear the groans and moans of walkers behind the doors.
He opened the doors and immediately recoiled, covering his nose with his wrist. The stench was horrible, like a thousand dead bodies mixed with shit. Daryl groaned but no walkers came forth, no walkers tried to eat him. He reached into his rucksack pocket and pulled out his flashlight. He flicked it on and regretted it instantly.
Roughly 30 walkers had been in the cellar, all crammed together in the small cellar, rotting into each other and fusing together over a vast period of time. In the middle of the cellar was a big mushy pile of walkers, melted together, some dead and some alive, some just complete mush, some half mush. It was like a big sack of organs and brains. Daryl gagged and pulled his red cloth from his back pocket. He tied it over his nose and mouth, blocking out the worst of the smell. The rag didn't smell that good but it was a hundred times better than the cellar.
He edged forward to the first rack of bottles and found seven bottles of champagne. He squeezed them into his rucksack and delved deeper into the cellar, keeping as much distance as possible from the walker mush. He found a pallet of beer and used his knife to cut a couple of trays out of the mass. He hoisted the trays up onto his shoulder and retreated from the cellar, kicking the door shut behind him. He returned to his bike and slid the trays of beer into a saddlebag before heading over to the pharmacy.
The pharmacy was filled with things and Daryl stuffed as much as he could into his rucksack. He grabbed bandages, aspirin, cough medicine, anitbiotics, medical tape, wipes, diapers. He paused when he saw shower gel and shampoo. Should he get some of that, so that the girls could smell good for the wedding? He reluctantly grabbed bottles of shampoo and body wash, barely managing to get them in the rucksack. He found a few bottles of cheap perfume and shoved them in his pockets. He went back to his bike and squeezed his rucksack into the other saddlebag.
He found some baby formula in the grocery store, along with tins of food that he squeezed into the saddlebag with the beer. He was in the jewellery store when he heard the groans. He was studying a leather wrist band. He had already found a silver bracelet dotted with sapphires and had put it his pocket for some reason. He wasn't sure why, he just felt compelled to pick it up and keep it. The groaning got louder and a walker smashed into the back of the store. Another followed. Daryl ran outside to his bike, climbed on and revved the engine as walkers came burst out of a store nearby and filtered towards the smell of fresh meat. Daryl revved the engine again before turning quickly and racing away. The bike was heavier than it had been when he had arrived at the town.
The groans of the walkers died as he got further away from the town.
He arrived back at the prison sometime mid-afternoon. Glenn opened the gate for him and he stopped the bike in the courtyard, next to the cars and bus the Woodbury residents had arrived on. Rick greeted him as he cut the engine off.
"Did you get anything?" He asked. Daryl grunted and jerked his head towards the saddlebags, "Shit load, not just booze but some medical shit too." He climbed off his bike and grabbed the rucksack. He lifted a tray of beer from the other bag before heading towards the cellblock, leaving Rick to get the other tray of beer and the baby formula and food. He transferred the contents of his bag to the kitchen area of the cellblock before going to find Maggie and Beth in the laundry room.
Maggie finished folding the sweater she was holding and looked up, "Daryl, hey."
"Here, I got this for you, figured you could use it for the weddin'." He tossed her the bottles of shower gel, shampoo and perfume.
"You sayin' I smell?" Maggie grinned but Daryl knew she was joking.
"Well nobody smells like flowers these days, all I'm sayin'. Figured you'd want to smell good for the weddin', all you ladies." Daryl nodded before turning and leaving. He went up to his cell, figuring he'd get some sleep before his guard duty at night.
He kicked off his boots and lay on his bunk, his hands behind his head. He stared at the bunk above him, waiting for sleep to take him, willing to be out of the loop for a few hours. Naturally, sleep chose to be annoying and avoid him, making him wait.
Eventually Daryl got bored so he sat up and started to clean his crossbow, using his red rag to wipe away dirt and dust, polishing the crossbow. There was a knock on the wall and Daryl looked up to see Glenn standing there, looking awkward and twisting his hands.
"Uh...Daryl...I just want to say thanks for...savin' my butt basically. Um yeah, you didn't have to, especially after I'd been such a dick about...about Merle and stuff. I'm sorry about that, I shoulda gave him a chance. But um...yeah, thank you for savin' me I guess." Glenn lingered in the doorway, looking really awkward. Daryl side-eyed him.
"Do you want anythin' else?" He asked and Glenn shifted nervously.
"Uh, can I ask you a question?"
"Shoot." Daryl sighed, still side-eying Glenn.
"How...how did Merle...die?" Glenn fidgeted, looking extremely uncomfortable. Daryl tensed up, straightening upright. He had a rough idea of what had happened that day, Michonne had told him that Merle had kidnapped her and started taking her to the silo for a trade with the Governor. They hijacked a car and talked and Merle let her go. Daryl knew that much was certain, he believed Michonne, but then he saw the bodies of the Governor's men and the walkers. He imagined Merle going out in a blaze of glory, shooting up the Governor's men before he was shot by the Governor.
"He was shot. In the chest. Twice. I reckon he took out a bunch of the Governor men, from all the bodies." Daryl stated simply, shrugging and sighing.
"He died giving us some more time? That don't sound like him." Glenn looked dubious, his eyebrow arched.
"Sometimes you gotta do somethin' that ain't the best for you, but the best for someone else." Daryl stood up, his throat thick thinking about his brother. He pushed past Glenn, making it clear that the conversation was over.
He jogged out into the courtyard, into the little fenced area of benches and punched the wall, a cry of anger leaving his lips. He leant his head against the wall, ignoring the ache in his fist, leaving it where it was. He was blinking furiously and wiped his eyes with his wrist before the tears could come. He was furious with himself, for almost crying. He was so weak. He took a deep, calming breath and turned around to leave when a hand whipped into his cheek with a loud crack.
It was Carol. She had slapped him. Daryl turned to her, bristling with rage, rubbing his jaw. He stared down at her, waiting for her to speak.
"What's you're problem? You've ignored me all day, for some reason. All I've done is be kind to you, I've been your friend!" Carol yelled.
"Why don't you go complain to your boyfriend about it?" Daryl sneered and went to leave but Carol shoved him back.
"You listen to me Daryl Dixon. Don't stalk off and ignore me. What the hell are you talkin' bout? My boyfriend? I don't what's wrong with you!" Carol snapped. She looked angry but also kinda scared, like Daryl might hit her.
"Don't lie to me woman. I saw you and Tyreese, flirtin' and kissin' and huggin', being all loved up." Daryl snarled, his jaw locking in place. His blue eyes searched Carol, racing over her body, noting every curve, every freckle. He dared her to lie to him, dared her to tell him that she didn't feel anything for Tyreese. Carol swallowed.
"We're just friends." She lied. Daryl knew she was lying, he knew her tell, he knew the signs. She avoided his eyes and fidgeted. Daryl could see the beads of sweat forming at her hairline.
"Don't lie Carol. I know you feel something for him." He murmured softly before his voice hardened, "It's wrong. It's the end of the fuckin' world and all you care about is love."
"Dammit Daryl! You don't get it! I don't want to feel so damn alone anymore! I want to be loved! I've been alone ever since I married Ed!" Carol's voice broke and tears trickled down her cheeks, "I want to be apprieciated, I want to be loved. I don't want to feel so damn alone!" Carol broke down, sobbing, "Tyreese makes me feel good, he makes me feel like I have a purpose!"
Daryl frowned, taking in her words. He watched her for a moment before looking around. Tyreese was storming towards them, obviously worried about Carol and why she was crying. Daryl gave Carol one last look before squeezing past her and storming towards the guard tower, intent on taking watch early. Tyreese grabbed him by the arm as he passed. Daryl stiffened at the touch.
"Let go if you don't want to become walker chow." Daryl snarled, trying to snatch his arm back. Tyreese tightened his grip but then saw the look Daryl had on his face and dropped his arm.
"What did you say to Carol?" Tyreese questioned. Daryl stared back at him, his eyes steely. He spat at Tyreese's feet before stalking off to the guard tower. He took the stairs two at a time. Karen was on guard, her rifle on her shoulder and looking beyond the fences lazily. Daryl sat in the tower, slumped in a chair and put his feet up.
He reached up to the shelve he'd hidden his cigarettes and matches and pulled them down. He lit up quickly and took a long drag. Karen turned around and noticed him for the first time. She stuck her head in the door, "Is it your turn for watch already?"
"You're gettin' relieved early." Daryl blew smoke out his mouth. Karen nodded and turned to leave before turning back to him, "Do you want some company?"
Daryl arched his eyebrow and shook his head, "Nah." Why would someone want to spend time with him? He made women cry, he was mean. He was a dirty redneck. He was useless trash. He was broken, he was damaged, he was a piece of shit. Karen nodded and left him wallowing. Why didn't he understand when a woman wanted him?
She sighed as she walked down the steps. She saw Tyreese hugging Carol who seemed like she was crying. Karen figured it had something to do with Daryl and why he was in such a stinking mood. She went into the cellblock and struck up a conversation with Beth and Herschel.
Meanwhile in the guard tower, Daryl was onto his second cigarette, he was running his hands through his hair, gripping handfuls of it, his eyes tearing up. He was a bad person. If there was a heaven and a hell, he would definetly be going to the latter. He'd be joining Merle. He blinked tears from his eyes but couldn't stop them from coming. He pinched the bridge of his nose and broke down sobbing, everything hitting him at once. The stress, the hurt, the grief, the tension, the pain all hitting him in a big wave.
Daryl stayed in the guard tower, crying.
A/N: You guys know what to do :)
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