Disclaimer: The main character's aren't mine, I'm just taking them out to play with for a while; I promise to treat them better than the writers of the show…well….for the most part… : P
Notes: This chapter cover's the fight from 12 from Daryl's POV, and stays with him after Fin takes a dunk in the drink since she's hardly in a position to tell us what's going on. This and the previous chapter are some of my few attempts at 'fight or action' scenes so I hope I made them believable and most importantly—I hope they made sense! ; )
Oh, someone asked how tall Fin is supposed to be since I mentioned in the story she's shorter then Carl and had to lean forward to look over the dash while driving.
Carl's actor is 5'4" in real life, Seraphim is supposed to be around 5' 1". So that height makes her the smallest in the group.
(Reedus is actually 5'10" Which surprised me; he seems so much larger on screen I thought he was at least 6'!)
Thanks to all the reviews, keep um coming, please and thank you!
updated 4/4
Chapter Thirteen
(Daryl's POV)
He knew there was a problem the moment the blood drained from her cheeks.
Something is very, very wrong.
For a girl who spent her time alone in the woods surrounded by Walker's to freak out…
This is going to be 'Woodbury Bad' all over again, he can feel it.
"Well, well Fin. As I live and breathe!"
He jerks his bow up to the guy standing only twenty feet away, she does the same; actually takes a step back instinctively, utters a soft curse.
He doesn't look like a huge threat; they never do. He's dressed in hunting camouflage gear and has a hunting rifle pointed at her head. He hasn't even acknowledged Daryl's existence.
Daryl can almost feel the tense waves rolling off her; she looks ready to bolt into the woods at any second.
She stands firm though; tension on her bow, arrow aimed at the new guy's face. She pulls it back further as he steps closer.
"Whoa, whoa! Caleb calm down, this is Daryl. He was part of my previous group."
Caleb doesn't even acknowledge Gary. He's just staring down Fin like he wants to eat her alive.
"Think you can take me out before I put a bullet in that pretty little skull, Dollface?"
"Put it down asshole." He steps forward, trying to move to Fin's side. Needs to get between them, if he fires he'll blow her head off at this distance. He needs to defuse this situation if he can; get her the Hell away from this guy that's making her shake like a leaf.
Caleb grins at Fin ignoring him completely. Daryl notices her hands have just barely start to shake. She takes another telling step backwards trying to keep distance between them.
This monster isn't touching her. Just the thought makes him see red. Is this the Asshole she has nightmares about? He's going to find out, and if it is he vows to kill him.
Very slowly…
"I've got no problem with you. Why don't you shoot this abomination for me and come back with Gary and me? You're more than welcome; She isn't." He's still watching her, licks his fucking lips.
Forget the bow. He's going to gut him, rip his insides out with his bare hands.
"Hey Caleb, let's be reasonable, She's just some girl!" Gary is totally clueless, if it wasn't for the time he'd spent protected in Woodbury he'd have been dead a long time ago.
Reasonable doesn't look like something this guy Caleb does.
Fin talked about monsters.
She's right. When you meet them: you just Know.
"She's evil Daryl. She lives with Walkers, that's sick." Caleb is obviously trying to appeal to him, not going to work.
"Yeah, well at least I don't Eat People." She snaps.
Course not, Hell kind of comment is that?
Daryl pauses, gaze moving from her rigid back to take in Caleb's expression, watches the other man's expression darken while his grin widens.
She's not suggesting…Fucking Hell. He's going to be sick. How many of their people were injured, easy pickings? Glenn was still sick when they were attacked…the small kids…
"What the Hell is going on here?" Gary the idiot, still talking. He's always been about as useful as tits on a bull.
"Shoot her Gary and we can go home heroes." Caleb doesn't take his eyes off her.
He barely registers Gary's response.
He's too busy fighting the intense hate that's making his fingers twitch towards the trigger, makes him want to bash his crossbow into Caleb's fucking face for looking at her like that. Smash his skull for even thinking about threatening her-let alone doing it right here in front of him.
He's never itched to beat a man's within an inch of his life so badly.
"What's going on is your boy needs to get that gun off my girl before I give him some extra holes!"
Caleb finally looks at him, when he does Daryl swears Fin starts to breathe again for the first time since he appeared.
"You have no idea what you're talking about. She's obviously been feeding you lies. Why don't we take a walk back to my families place. We can work this out. Bring the girl, I promise no one will hurt you." He smiles, smooth talker.
Something about him makes Daryl's skin crawl. He's about to tell him to Go to Hell when she speaks up.
"Let me guess, You can all discuss it over a big ole BBQ?" Fin's tone is sarcastic, but her voice is shaking.
Daryl moves closer to her, sees her tense; she can't possibly think he'd take up this asshole on his deal, how can she think that?
The thought prickles and twists his insides.
"Stop Moving Daryl or I'll shoot." He stops feels a snarl building.
The Fuck is she doing?
"Damnit girl."
Trying to take on the whole world...
His hands itch to grab her, shove her behind him; shake her and tell her she's never walking through the woods ever again. Not if this is going to happen….he can't do this…not again.
First Sophia, then Merle and Carol…he's done with losing everyone he's ever given a shit about.
She ignores him. "Give it up Caleb, we can both walk away from this. You know you don't want to be late for dinner."
His answering smile could fuel Daryl's nightmares for years.
"Yeah, let's do that. Let's all just back away!" Gary's voice is high. He's not watching Caleb's face.
Taking in the way he's watching Fin like he just found a shiny new toy he can't wait to take home and break open.
"It doesn't have to be like this…"
He has no idea.
Caleb shoulders tense bracing for the recoil before he squeezes the trigger. Daryl leaps forward kicks out at Fin, sends her sprawling farther into the side step she was already half through having noticed it was time as well.
Their standoff is over; now they just have to survive the fight.
Two on one shouldn't be too bad…until he sees Gary out of the corner of his eye raise his gun, but not at Caleb. Gary's pointing the barrel at Fin's back as she squares off with Caleb who isn't shooting for some reason. Maybe he only had the one bullet; maybe they can both survive this if he can stop Gary from shooting her in the back like a chicken shit coward.
He notes Caleb is charging at Fin as he's turning, moving to deal with Gary instead.
A disturbing thought slides through him, maybe Caleb has bullets, and just wants to crush her in his bare hands... He's almost three times her size…
He needs to stop Gary so he can help her. Daryl spins, moves to block him, he doesn't want to kill him—it's not his fault he's an idiot.
When he moves to fire Daryl has no choice, He nearly drops the rifle when the arrow embeds itself in his upper arm. "Drop it!" He doesn't instead charging blindly at him screaming like a madman.
Gary swipes at him, it's a clumsy stumble that he avoids. He spins to track his opponent, sees Fin on the ground, she stumbles…gets up; slipping, bright red blood on her shirt, it's running in a steady trickle from her hairline, down to her neck.
She's wincing…
Gary whips the rifle butt at him like a damn club, he jerks back but not fast enough: feels the crack, the world tilts, forest spins around him in lazy circles.
God damn. It's been a while since someone cleaned his clock.
Watching the damn girl is going to get him killed.
He shakes his head, trying to clear his vision when Fin screams. He can't breathe, a gunshot cracks like thunder Daryl's ear's ring it was so close.
Bastard had bullets after all.
He no longer registers the ringing in his ears, or the pounding in his chest; Fin's not screaming anymore.
He sees nothing, lashes out blindly with his fist, vision still off kilter, he watches Gary fall back, lie still, blood spilling out of the pit in his stomach…The fuck?
It's a gut shot at close range.
Caleb must have been aiming for him and missed, but then why did Fin scream?
He spins, neither of them are there.
He turns around, looks for Fin, heart pounding harder when he doesn't see her.
He heard her only moments before; he couldn't have dragged her off that fast. He stumbles forward to where they were last, eyes to the ground, reading the scuffle in the wet earth.
He bends, snatches his crossbow off the ground, where is she?
Where the fuck is Caleb? His brain tortures him with a progressively sickening rolodex of imageries, if he's touched her…
Fin lets out a scream that ends abruptly, he doesn't think just bolts towards the river.
Sees the deep gouges in the dirt, the sliding, trampled earth and mud tracks where they tumbled end over end trying to stop before dumping into the water.
He's running downhill before he's aware he told his feet to move, sliding, leaping, managing to snag a thick tree trunk just before he plummets into the water himself….he searches the surface frantically.
Moves to follow the current searching, searching…for movement; the color of her hair; anything to tell him where she is…
There! She pops up between two white swirling peaks of water gasping for air. The water is a freezing churning mud colored mass with a current strong enough to snap bones on any of the downed limbs and half covered rocks.
Caleb is next to her, grabs the back of her head, forces her down as the current sweeps them further downstream.
He's running, thankfully faster than the water, by the time he reaches them Caleb's feet seem to have found some solid ground. He's standing, water pushing at his waist. He's struggling to fighting the current's sharp pull taking little steps as it shoves against him; but he's still holding her under.
The water around her swirls, splashes and bubbles as she fights against his hold.
Bastard piece of shit is not going to drown her.
Daryl's leaping, jumping in, lands not five feet from the motherfucker, fires without thinking, aiming in a blind rage. Caleb reels as the arrow embeds itself between his shoulder blades, he spins to face Daryl, lets Fin go.
Daryl doesn't wait for her to get up, already rushing forward bow raised to smash its end two handed into Caleb's startled face. The bone crushing impact sends him lurching back. Caleb twists trying to get away even as Daryl smashes the bow into the side of his head, blood spills down into Caleb's eyes blinding him. Daryl is smashing him again as he falls face first into the river, he brings it down once more as Caleb bobs under the water with the blow, rising back up lifeless as he's floating away.
He's been yelling, has no idea what…the urge to keep smashing until Caleb is nothing but a pulverized lump of meat still roars through him.
The sight of Fin, still face down in the river being carried off by the current stops him.
He curses lifts his legs to run with the water letting it carry him towards her limp form.
He manages to get his hands on her before they're back in deep water. He hauls her up from the current by her arms, jerking her back against his chest. Next he's locking an arm around her waist so he can take them back to shore…she's not moving, he tries slapping her cheek and gets nothing...
She can't die like this.
Three years alone, and the first time she trusts someone else to keep her safe he gets her fucking killed by her worst nightmare.
He was supposed to watch her back—and he delivered her to the devil instead.
Caleb's body is floating away bright red swirls curl away from his body lost in the swirling water, his body spins lazily on the current the arrow sticking out of his back as he slides away.
If she's dead, he's going to hunt the fucker down so that when he turns he can kill him again. Hack him into smaller and smaller pieces, slowly…
And it won't be enough…
He's moving his feet against the current, calling her name…total nonsense spilling out of his god damn mouth as he's hauling her toward the bank. He has to grab at limbs and branches with his free hand to help him move against the water's insistent pull, hindered by her limp weight, and cold limbs.
She still hasn't moved when he reaches the bank, lurches out, nearly falling trying to fight a frustrating combination of gravity, a slick muddy bank and heavy wet clothes.
He drops her to the ground in a fumble of cold uncoordinated muscles and blind panic.
He's calling to her again, praying for a response. He shakes her limp form; her eyes are glassy and unmoving, skin pale and ice cold against the dark mud on the bank. He feels for a pulse, finds one; it's weak. She's not breathing.
She probably drank half the river…
He tries pressing air into her lungs, her lips are ice cold under his, nothing like he imagined.
He tries again, he's never done this shit, but it doesn't seem to be working.
He turns her to her side pounds her back for lack of any other ideas.
By the fifth or sixth smack she jerks; retches and gags, water gurgles from her mouth, out her nose even. She's choking and coughing, whole body shaking with the violence of expelled water….but she's alive…she's breathing. Retching up muddy water between gasps of air.
He keeps his hands on her back, needing to touch her, even while she rolls almost face down in the mud gasping in air with ragged breaths, her fingers flexing into fistfuls of soft wet dirt.
She stays like that on her side trying to catch her breath for several minutes. He hates to ask her to move so soon after nearly drowning; but her whole body is now afflicted with tremors from the cold. Her lips look pale and her skin a little blue when she rolls back to stare blankly up at the sky again. He can hear her teeth chattering with each raspy breath.
They're both soaked, and the air can't be more than 40 degrees. Even though the sun hasn't made an appearance all day it has darkened more in the last hour telling him that sunset is not far off. The temperature will likely plummet further by nightfall.
If they don't find shelter and get warm he may still lose her to hypothermia.
He hauls her up, wrapping an arm around her back, pulls her to his chest. She's still coughing occasionally, but at least she's stopped throwing up. She tries to say something, but her voice is an indistinguishable rasp.
"Don't. We have to move, get the bags, find shelter." She nods into his chest; the movement is more a shuddering jerk of her chin against his chest than an agreement.
He stands, drags her up, and finds he's completely supporting her weight with his arm as she leans against him, knees nearly buckling with the next shiver.
Not good. She's completely defenseless. He quickly scans the river bank checking for Walkers, sees none thankfully. Considers leaving her for just a few minutes so he can grab their bags; but he can't bring himself to do it.
"Come On," His arm tightens around her.
He walks and she stumbles nearly pulling him down to his knees. Her head shaking a negative.
"Up the bank girl, go." He can't leave her here. He's also sure he can't climb the steep incline of the bank with wet ground and carry her. The whole thing reminds him of another steep bank in the middle of Summer; at least he didn't get shot with an arrow during the fight earlier...
He wraps both arms around her, pulls her up straight again, has to lean his head down to her ear.
"Stay with me Fin, You can do this." She finally nods though it ends in a full body shudder that rattles her teeth.
He holds under her arm with one hand, grabs a tree limb, climbs, and pulls. She stumbles, but stays upright grabbing limbs, and branches as they climb up the gulley to level ground Daryl half dragging her the last bit once his feet are on solid ground.
His arms are around her once more to steady her as she gasps for air after the effort. "You drop your bow in the river?"
She blinks up at him, eyes large a strange swirl of green and grey, with little flecks of blue around her iris just barely visible standing this close to her. Blood is still trickling down one side of her face; though it's slowed...maybe she has a concussion? She hasn't answered him yet, still staring up at his face like she doesn't know him.
He raises one hand, feels along her hairline; locates the split in her skin, the source of the blood. It's not terrible, stitches would probably be useful if they were possible, they'll have to make due. He'll have to improvise.
He grabs the hem of her long sleeve shirt, starts to lift it over her head, her eyes go wide.
"No…"
"It's wet, it's not doing you a damn bit of good."
She shakes her head fiercely but he pulls it up and off her anyway, her protests feeble in her current state. He's yanking the wet material off her arms while she jerks back nearly falling on her ass. He grabs her arms again.
"Hold still Damnit."
She stands there in a pink tank top and forearm guards for her bow, if she wasn't shaking like a leaf he'd call the look she's giving him a death glare.
She looks like a tiny angry wet kitten.
His mouth twitches up as he presses the wet cloth to her forehead. A shiver rips down his own spine, he notices his hands are shaking as he dabs the cloth over the blood.
They need to move.
He repeats his question. "You're bow, is it in the river?"
"N…no…I..thinnk…I droppped iittt." Her teeth chatter so hard around the words he can barely understand her. But at least she's responding.
He takes her hand raises it to press over the cloth on her forehead, notices the skin over her shoulder and upper arm slightly pucker with scars, barely visible on her ghostly pale skin. That explains the long sleeves…looks like something tore into her.
He slides his bow over his shoulder and scoops her up with one hand behind her knees. She doesn't protest, which surprises him.
He's lucky the current hasn't carried them too far, he makes it back before Gary has turned. He wraps his arm tighter around her back, sets her feet down, leans her against a tree while he quickly locates her bow and a few dropped arrows that spilled from her quiver during the scuffle.
They're incredibly lucky she dropped her quiver when she dropped her pack in the initial fight, they'll still have arrows to defend themselves with; assuming they live through the night.
He puts her pack on, a little surprised at it's weight. Slides both bows over his own shoulder, moves to stand over Gary's dead body reaching for his knife.
"Le….leave him." She's shaking so hard he can see it from here.
He returns to her side, feels her slide her arm around his shoulder when he stoops to pick her up again.
He tries not to think about how hard it is to carry her. It shouldn't be…she's so tiny, but he's breathing a bit too harsh; chest tight.
It feels like a thousand needles are piercing his skin. His clothes stick to him, ice cold pulling all the heat from his body.
They both need to get dry and warm, now. It's quickly becoming a matter of life and death.
He's been walking for what feels like hours in agony but in reality is probably minutes when she stops shaking, goes limp in his arms.
He calls her name, shakes her, but she doesn't respond.
Not good, he can still see her shallow breathing; hear the air that wheezes out of her abused lungs.
How far have they traveled? How close are they to that farm?
She never even mentioned the possibility that they might run into someone like that. If he understood what she was telling him that Caleb guy, and his family are God Damn Cannibals.
When she wakes up he's going to tear her a new ass.
Damn girl had better wake up.
He has to tell her he's completely on board with annihilating her monsters.
He shudders so hard he nearly drops her, his muscles threatening to lock up in useless spasms. He stops for a moment trying to collect himself. His finger's ache from holding her so tight; afraid he's going to drop her, not be able to pick her back up. His heart is pounding, every inch of his body is on fire. Part of his brain tells him to just stop, set her down, warm himself up, but he's afraid they're not safe…an outline in the trees catches his eye.
He moves closer hoping his find it's in good enough shape structurally not to collapse on their heads. It looks like an old tobacco or smoke shed.
It's small, less than 12 feet wide, the boards are ancient worn and grey weathered wood. Some of the slats are missing; but the majority of boards are intact enough that he might be able to keep a fire without anyone being able to see it for miles in the dark. It might offer at least some protection from Walkers, especially since there is no way she can set up that tent in her current state; and he sure as Hell can't do it.
He circles it, tripping over his own feet with the effort to keep moving, finds a door in the far side. He sets her down as carefully as he can; which means he still drops her the last two feet.
He tries not to think about the fact that she doesn't complain about that; doesn't move at all…he pulls his crossbow forward and pushes the door open.
There are enough holes in the metal roof to see the deserted dirt floor inside is empty of bodies or people.
He steps inside, double checks then drops the bows and bag, leaving the door open behind him so he can keep one eye on her he opens her bag as quickly as his shaking hands will let him; grabs the sleeping bag and shakes it out onto the dry ground. Then he steps back outside. Lifts Fin's limp body up by her armpits, has to bend down to lift her over his shoulder unable to get her up into his arms without losing his balance.
Warning bells are clanging in his head, telling him how much danger they're both in… but all he can think about is her not answering him when he steps inside lets her slide down in front of him, drops her back to sit on the dirt floor, lays her back to lie down; completely limp.
"Fin. Fin, Seraphim!" He shakes her, Nothing.
He's torn between starting a fire and stripping off wet clothes. His brain a fumbled mess of raw nerve endings screaming at him in pain while he tries to remember what's more important right now...
Screw it.
He grabs her tank top pulls it over her head, then grabs the buckles at her waist unclipping them as fast as he can with uncooperative fingers. Yanks the ties on her boots, and pulls them off, peels off the wet socks next. Then her pants trying not to look. They stick to her hips, and legs, her skin is ice cold, clammy under his hands as he tugs them off nearly falling on his ass.
He doesn't intend for her undergarments to come off with the pants; but he has such a hard time pulling her wet pants down her legs he doesn't want to waste time trying to put wet clothes back on her, modesty be damned right now.
If she lasts the night she can try to kill him in the morning.
He half drags, half lifts her onto the open sleeping bag, folds the top portion over her limp form, hoping to hold in any body heat she might have retained, and begins stripping his own clothing.
He's so cold he forgets for a second to untie his own boots, trying to toe them off his feet and nearly falling down he's shaking so hard. He's finally striped down to nothing, he debates starting a fire, but doesn't think he can in his current state, he can't even feel his fingers anymore. He lays there clothes flat quickly; hoping they'll start to dry. Considers trying to make a fire once more until the next round of full body shivers rattle his teeth and almost knock him on his ass.
Then settles for climbing into the sleeping bag with her instead, fingers fumbling at the zipper to close in as much heat as possible, though he leaves it open enough that he could hopefully react and grab his bow incase anything tried to break in.
She hasn't moved in a while. Her skin is ice cold against his, colder in fact.
She's half his size and was in the water twice as long. He checks the pulse at her neck with clumsy fingers, tries to wrack his blank brain for what to do next. Finally sets to work rubbing his hands over her arms, pulls her hands to his mouth breathing on them.
Working them between his own cold fingers, before massaging up her arms again to her shoulders.
He pauses. He can't bring himself to touch her chest, can't reach her legs. He rolls her clumsily onto her side so he can lay behind her like they have the last few nights. He jumps back at first when his chest comes into contact with her frozen skin.
Does his best to wrap his arms around her, rubbing his hands over the parts of her he's okay with touching. Finds himself with his nose buried in her hair, somehow despite being dumped in a river and rolling around in the mud she still smells faintly of cinnamon and vanilla.
He's going to have to take another look at those damn bottles when they get home.
Home
He starts, surprised by the thought. The prison was home for a time, the farm…the house of his childhood never felt like one…he didn't really know what a home felt like- even as an adult. It was just a place to sleep; eat a meal.
Now his home was with his family, Rick and Carl, Maggie and Glenn, Beth, and the others…Now home was supposed to be the warehouse.
Fin's home; his home-their home.
He realizes over the past few days he's started hoping she won't run away like he expected in the beginning, there's room in their group for her, he hopes she knows that.
She stirs against him, he stills.
"Fin?" Still nothing.
The ceiling holes and missing boards let in just enough light that he can see her face.
The bleeding stopped finally at least. Dried blood is smeared down her cheek, has run in her ear.
She moans in her sleep, shivers. He wraps his arms back around her in reflex pulling her tight to his chest.
No big deal, just like every other night, just trying to keep warm. He's just going to ignore the fact that she's naked, he's trying to keep her alive damnit.
His eyes feel heavy, like his limbs...There's not much else he can do at this point, he's exhausted, and bitter cold…unsure if it's safe to sleep…not sure he can stop himself from blacking out anyway now that he's no longer moving.
He lets his eyes slip shut, feels her hands wrap around his arm, holding him as he passes out.
to be continued...
Notes: So I'm torn here, this could go two ways; I could keep everything between them dreams...which preserves Daryl's Character 'virgin' status as set in the show...or Not. xD
Suggestions?
I could write this either way! : )
Big thank you to everyone still with us!