WARNING: This chapter contains rape and abuse.
Beth screamed, the blade that was once held to her throat, clattered to the ground. Bowman landed with a dull thud. Daryl slid to the ground, blinking. His shoulder throbbed, the pain exploding through him not that the immediate danger was gone. His fingers gripped the fabric of his pant leg and pulled then close. He slipped them on, slowly but determined. He wasn't going into the cell with only his underwear on. He pulled his boots on, leaving the laces undone. He forced himself to rise but wobbled on his feet. Beth hurried over and gripped his arm, steadying him. He nodded his thanks before staggering over to Bowman's corpse.
Bowman hadn't died immediately, he was gasping like a fish, Daryl's knife sticking from his forehead. Daryl put his foot on the handle of the blade and pressed down, shoving the blade deeper into Bowman's skull. Bowman gurgled something and his eyes met Daryl's before all the life left him. Daryl understood the message and it confused him.
Thank You
Daryl stooped, groaning in pain, his fingers wrapping around the hilt of his knife. He wrenched in free and tucked it in his belt. He groaned again before standing up.
Dexter stirred, groaning slightly. Daryl stumbled over and was about to finish him off when a voice squeaked, "We need to get you back to my Daddy,"
"I'll be fine for a minute," Daryl grunted. He pulled the belt from Bowman's corpse then he pulled the belt from his pants. He straddled Dexter and trussed his hands and feet before rolling him on his front. Daryl winced as he accidently jerked his shoulder. He grabbed the belt tying Dexter's feet together and dragged him into the courtyard, Beth following anxiously. Carl was in the courtyard, sharpening his knife. Daryl whistled to him, catching his attention.
Carl saw the arrow in Daryl's shoulder and strode over quickly. As he got closer he saw the thin, bloodied line across Beth's throat. Anger rose in him, someone had hurt Beth.
"What happened?" Carl seethed, "Who hurt you Beth? I'll kill him!" He examined Beth's neck before giving her a hug. Then he turned to Daryl, "I'll watch this fuckface, you get that seen to."
"Carl, get someone to check the fences, and...get...burn the body in the shower block. Keep this fucker alive, I'll deal with him later. " Daryl instructed before staggering forward into the cellblock. The pain was overwhelming him. He blocked out the voices around him, the mindless chatter giving him a headache. He rested his forehead on the tabletop.
"Aw baby brother got a booboo? That ain't jackshit!" Merle's voice echoed around his head. A gentle had rested on his shoulder and Daryl jolted upright. It was Herschel.
"You know, Daryl, if you want to talk to me, you don't have to keep gettin' hurt." Herschel drawled, a smile on his features. Daryl gave a pained smile.
"Let's get you into a cell, it'll be easier to sort there and you'll have some privacy." Herschel smiled before hobbling towards the stairs. He tucked his crutches under one arm and held the railing with the other. He hopped up the stairs with ease before disappearing into Daryl's cell. Daryl trailed after him, staggering numbly. Beth had gone to get Maggie under Herschel's instructions.
Daryl sat on his bed, blinking listlessly. Herschel propped his crutches against the bed and sat down on a stool, opposite Daryl. Maggie arrived a few moments later, carrying Herschel's medical bag. Herschel began to poke and prod at Daryl's shoulder, examining it intently. He sometimes murmured things to Maggie. Finally he finished his assessment and spoke.
"It appears that the tip has become wedged in your shoulder joint. We can't just pull the arrow out as it would cause nerve damage, and rip the tissue and muscles. The easiest way to get the arrow out, is to dislocate your shoulder, pull it out and relocate your shoulder. It will hurt." Herschel stated, his face contorted with concentration. Daryl nodded sullenly. Herschel straightened Daryl's arm and Maggie slid behind him on the bed. She smashed the base of her palm at Daryl's shoulder joint from such an angle, the bone popped right out.
Daryl roared in pain, black spots dancing across his vision. He gasped then there was a tugging and the arrow was ripped from his shoulder, causing him to scream in even more pain. Herschel straightened his arm and thrust, popping the joint back into it's socket. Daryl roared in agony, slumping sideways into his pillow. Pressure was applied to the wound. Daryl sat up gasping from the pain. Herschel set about cleaning and stitching the wound before binding a long bandage around the wound. He made a sling out of a linen and fixed it around Daryl.
"All better." Herschel smiled once Daryl was suitably bandaged and the sling was in place. Daryl slumped back on his bed and groaned, "Fuck you." Herschel chuckled lightly before getting to his feet and hobbling from the room.
"Get some sleep." Maggie smiled, patting him on the leg before gathering up the medical stuff and following her Dad. Daryl lay in his bed, chuckling and groaning in pain.
Carol found Tyreese in his cell, talking to Sasha. She smiled at the siblings. Sasha stood up, "I'll give you guys some privacy." She smiled and left. Carol smiled after her and sat on the bed next to Tyreese.
"Hey." She smiled, "We...um...we need to talk."
"About what?" Tyreese smiled, "We could talk later and do some stuff now."
"Look Tyreese, I'm gonna be blunt with you because I respect you. I...I...I don't want a relationship with you. And I know I may have led you on and that's not fair on you." Carol stated. Tyreese bit his lip.
"It's because of him, isn't it?" Tyreese mumbled, "I know you like him, and I think we should give it a try, because I know I'm the only one that stands to get hurt, and I'm okay with that." Tyreese looked so sad. Carol took his hands.
"You may be okay with that but I'm not okay with being the one hurting you. You deserve so much better than what I can give you. I'm truly sorry if I led you on, if I made you think that we had something going on but we don't. I love you...just not that way." Carol smiled sadly. Tyreese nodded in understanding.
"But I want you. I don't care if you think I deserve better." Tyreese pleaded. Carol shook her head, "We should just remain friends."
"Can I at least get a kiss where you respond?" Tyreese asked hopefully. Carol nodded, figuring she owed him that much. She leant up and pressed her lips to his. Tyreese responded enthusiastically, his mouth opening. Carol pulled away after a moment.
Just then a roar of pain ripped through the cellblock. Others followed. Carol tensed up, her eyes darting to the doorway, because she knew who the screams belonged to. He sounded like he was in so much pain. Carol wanted to run to him but she didn't. She turned to Tyreese who was watching her, "Friends?"
"Friends." Tyreese nodded. Carol stood up and left the cell. More screams echoed, coming from the cell at the end. Carol sighed and darted into her own cell to check on Judith. The baby was still sleeping soundly. The screams stopped and a few moments later, Herschel and Maggie walked past her cell.
Carol sighed and slumped back on her beds, tired and confused about her feelings. It took all her will power not to go to him.
Daryl's eyes fluttered and he awoke with a gasp. He sat up, ignoring the ache in his shoulder, breathing heavily. He looked around, sure someone was watching him. He found no one. He wiped sweat off his brow and shuffled off the bed. He grabbed his crossbow and slung it over his back. His arm hurt but he shoved the pain down with a grimace and staggered down the walkway. He glanced involuntarily into Carol's cell. She was sleeping, hugging her pillow.
Daryl smirked before stumbling down to the common area. He was going hunting, he needed to do something. He hated being injured, all the waiting around and resting. A growl came from one of the lower cells, stopping Daryl in his tracks. He pulled his crossbow from his back and loaded it awkwardly. He held it one hand before going to check the cells.
Another growl sounded and Daryl pinpointed where it came from. He crept along the cell row, stopping outside the cell the sounds had come from. He peeked into the cell. Herschel was fast asleep but the old Woodbury resident he shared a cell with, had risen to his feet, snarling. His night gown hung open and he shuffled across the small space, growls off hunger leaving his lips.
He had become a walker. He must have died in his sleep and become a walker. Daryl sighed and lined up his sights. He aimed and fired easily, the arrow sailing through the air and connecting with the walker's head, piercing the skull and lodging itself deep in the walker's brain. The walker fell to the ground with a thud. Herschel snorted in his sleep and jolted upright. He looked around, bleary eyed.
His eyes widened when he saw the dead walker. He saw the arrow and glanced at the doorway. He saw Daryl and sighed in relief. Daryl nodded at him before trailing back to the common area, holding his shoulder. He sat down at a table and grimaced in pain. Loading and firing the crossbow had been a bad idea, he must have jerked his arm and now his shoulder hurt like hell.
Someone sat down next to him causing him to look up. It was Rick. His face was screwed up with concern.
"How's the arm?" He asked, running his eyes over the sling.
"Been better." Daryl grunted and rolled his shoulder in the sling. It caused pain but it was bearable. He was satisfied that he could still use his arm and looked at Rick.
"What happened in the shower block?" Rick crossed his arms and frowned, still not totally sure what had happened in the shower. He'd spoken to Beth but she had been crying and gasping. He hadn't got much from her other than two guys had grabbed her and gone into the shower block. Daryl just happened to be there and shit hit the fan.
"I was...I was washin' and these guys, one was called Bowman, the Governor's second lapdog. He had Beth by her throat and then the small scrawny fucker came in, attacked me. I knocked him out then got shot by the lapdog. Threw my knife at him and killed him though. He ain't comin' back I can assure you." Daryl smirked, "Where is the scrawny bastard? I might pay him a visit later."
"Michonne's keepin' an eye on him. He's in the guard tower." Rick allowed himself a small smile before becoming serious again, "I don't want this to turn into another Randall situation again, y'know? That wouldn't be good."
"I'm sure he's one of the Governor's men. I'll find out when we get reaquainted." Daryl sighed before standing up, "Some of the oldies are dyin' in their sleep. One almost got Herschel, might wanna clear the corpse out the cell." Daryl yawned and wobbled slightly on his feet.
Rick gripped his arm, "I'll sort it out. You go get some rest." Daryl nodded and stumbled back to his cell. He collapsed on his bed, realising how exhausted he was. Getting shot by an arrow was tiring stuff.
His eyelids drooped and seconds later he was out like a light.
Warm lips brushed against his ear. A hand pressed against the small of his back, pushing him into the wall and holding him there. Another hand crept around to his front and began to fiddle with the buckle of his belt. Daryl tried to wriggle free but was pushed back in place. The man behind his growled throatily.
"We've got a live one." He roared to his cronies in the other room. His Dad was having a poker game with his friends. All of them sleazy, middle-aged men who got off by abusing kids, physically and sexually. More often or not, one of Cooper's 'friends' would ask for Daryl and then take him into the other room. He wasn't proud of what they did to his son but he'd be a hypocrite if he objected.
Or that's what he told himself to appease his conscience.
Daryl struggled against the man, trying to get out. He knew what was coming. The man, a particularly sleazy man named Larry, wore a leopard print shirt, the top few buttons undone so his chest hair curled out. His face was red and he had a large squashy nose. A few hairs had been combed over on his head and he reeked of garlic and vomit.
He pushed Daryl down again before unbuckling his own belt and dropping his pants around his ankles. He ripped Daryl's belt away and pulled his pants and underwear down, revealing the young boy's buttocks. Larry gave a wheezy laugh before rubbing his hands up Daryl's bare thighs and bum.
Daryl whined pitifully, "Don't do this. Please, stop. Leave me alone." He begged. Larry gripped his hair and pulled his head back before whispering in his ear, "Kiddo I can't stop. See if I did, what would I get? Nothin'! So shut yer trap." He slammed Daryl's head against the wall, leaving him dazed. He bent the dazed boy over and thrusted hard.
Daryl screamed out as he was penetrated. Larry pulled back before thrusting into him again. The same pattern happened for a 10 minutes before Larry finally got bored. He pulled out of Daryl completely and orgasmed violently over Daryl's butt cheeks. Larry chuckled darkly to himself, pulling his pants up. He grabbed Daryl by his hair and dragged him into the middle of the room. He kicked him in the stomach before stamping on his hand.
Daryl screamed in pain as Larry beat him up, using his feet and fists. Larry's boot smashed into the side of his head and his fist connected with Daryl's nose. His nose exploded with blood as the bone cracked. Larry pressed his boot to Daryl's throat and applied pressure. He finally let up and sneered at the feeble sight.
Daryl was lying in a pool of blood and semen, bleeding from his nose and a cut to his head. Larry examined his knuckles before stamping on the boy's face one last time. He then left to join the poker game, laughing.
Daryl could hear the others laughing as Larry told them his story. Laughing at him. His vision was blurred and he couldn't move his right hand but Daryl was determined to cover up before someone came to find. He gripped his underwear and pants with his left hand and slowly eased them up his bruised legs, groaning and moaning in pain. He lay were he was after that, unable to move, crying. Everytime he tried to move, his body never responded.
A shadow loomed over him and Daryl could make out the figure of his Dad. Cooper sneered at him before grabbing the back of his shirt and dragging him into the cellar. He dumped the boy in the refrigerator and slammed the lid shut, leaving Daryl in pure darkness.
Daryl bolted upright, gasping for air. He looked around the cell, panting heavily. He was covered in a cold sweat. There was a stickiness to his face. He dragged his wrist over his eyes and knew he'd been sleep crying. He wiped his face with his hand and it came away red. Blood was splattered over his pillow and sheet. He inhaled deeply which was harder than usual. Then it clicked.
He'd had a nose bleed.
He sighed in relief and scrambled out his bed. He pulled his boots on with his good arm and paused when he spotted clothes that didn't belong to him on the stool in the corner of his room. He wiped his bloodied hand on his shirt before picking them up. It was a white shirt and a faded pair of grey jeans. Daryl shrugged and dropped them back on the stool. There would be a reason they were in his room.
Daryl found his red cloth and used it to wipe the blood from his face. He tucked it in his back pocket and left the cell. He found the orginal prison group along with Tyreese, Sasha and Karen sitting around a couple of tables that had been shoved together. Daryl tutted and pulled the sling off his arm. He shoved it in his back pocket and rolled his shoulder, working the stiffness from his joint. He grunted when he was satisfied that his arm was going to be okay and joined the others.
He sat in the free seat next to Rick and Herschel, keeping as much distance from Tyreese and Carol as he could. Herschel tutted in disapproval when he saw Daryl had removed the sling.
"You're impossible." He moaned lightly, slapping Daryl lightly on the back. Daryl raised an eyebrow at him but made no comment. His eyes met Carol and he glimpsed the small smile she shot him. Daryl just looked away from her, turning his attention to Rick.
"We need to find out where the Governor is." Rick stated, "Dexter seems to belong to another group of the Governors. So we should find some answers there."
"What do we do with him after? I don't want this becomin' another Randall situation." Maggie asked, frowning.
"We kill him."
A/N: And that's another little insight into Daryl's past.
P.S. I'm not a doctor, I've never been shot by an arrow or dislocated my shoulder so if I've done anything wrong, my bad. I just thought that would be interesting.
Thank you so so so much for the reviews. I know a lot of people say this but, the more reviews I get the quicker I'll write. Reading your reviews really motivates me into writing more.
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