Hello all. Well, I didn't get to fit in everything because I have a tendency to add in a lot of detail. This is the longest chapter by far, but I have a feeling that others will get longer. Ye Gods! So, for the things that were supposed to happen in this chapter will be shown in chapter 16. I just felt it would end better at the place it did and not bore anyone at being too long. Reasonable?
I would like to thank those who have reviewed chapter 14...mrskaz453, texasbelle91, NRIASB, Katnthebox, missy7293, thewalkingdestroyer, igottoomanyloves, and anonymous reviewers Guest and Celinanas.
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Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead or the characters. They belong to their respectful owners. I only own my OC(s).
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Chapter 15
Across the way, the small form of Carol stopped in front of Daryl's cell. The silver haired woman crossed her arms and leaned against the metal frame. The tracker sat at his desk, cleaning his Beretta pistol a little roughly. He didn't even seem to notice her, his mind in a whole different world where Carol didn't belong…the past.
"Can I talk to you?" Her small voice asked, breaking the silence.
Daryl froze in his cleaning stride and glanced at the concrete wall across from him irritably. He was in no damned mood to talk to anybody. And even though he liked Carol he wasn't in any mood to deal with her. He wanted to be alone. Why couldn't everyone just leave him alone? He wanted to throw the Beretta pieces against the wall and yell at someone. He wanted to punch something. It wasn't because he was truly pissed at Carol or everyone else.
He was pissed because he missed MaryJane and he was desperately lost without her.
"Wha'?" He grumbled irritably.
Still in her casual position she kept serious and stone faced "MaryJane told me what happened."
Daryl stiffened dramatically in his seat, his long fingers clenching the piece of gun so hard his knuckles started turning ghostly white.
She took his silence as her ability to continue. The silver haired woman made a promise to a friend and she was determined to keep it. She knew in her heart that MaryJane wouldn't have done what she did unless she was really out of it. MaryJane was a very loyal woman and her loyalty was strongest with Daryl. If only he could see and understand that!
"What happened wasn't her fault, Daryl."
He sat up more firmly in his chair and growled warningly. "Don't make fuckin' excuses fer her."
"I'm not." Carol replied calmly, keeping her head unlike Daryl who was losing his patience quickly.
"It ain't no o' ya damned business." He snarled, shooting her a deadly glare from beneath the curtain of bangs.
Carol straightened her position, keeping her arms crossed and took a few steps into the room.
"You're right, but she's my friend and she loves you. This separation is killing her. She needs you Daryl."
Daryl just grimaced at her words and made a nasty face at her. "She sure needed the Germ."
Coming into this, Carol knew it wouldn't go down easily, but she'd always found herself internally irritated at Daryl for his thicker headed stubbornness. If she wanted Daryl to rethink this whole thing and start to see the truth then she would have to remain calm and take whatever yell or curse he threw at her. She was used to that kind of abuse, especially from him since he spat nasty things at her in the past when she lost Sophia. The funny thing is, in that time Carol was extremely patient with him, taking his anger and words, but now, when it came to his future and his happiness her own patience was wearing thin. Poor MaryJane looked so heart broken and torn by his cold words. If anything, it was up to her to fix this.
"Daryl, please, you have to think of things through her eyes. She was depressed and prone to mental breakdowns out there without you. She didn't know what she was doing and from what she remembered it was Jeremy who kissed her." Carol tried to plead, but Daryl just sneered.
"Fuckin' excuses,"
"She thought it was you!" Carol exclaimed, her voice hinting at desperate.
The tracker only grimaced and glared at her, his eyes hard and emotionless like stone. His taut body was still as tense as ice, his body radiating off something dangerous, but Carol was going to fight the storm for her friend.
"You and I both know that MaryJane is emotionally fragile and when she thought she would never find you she fell into that dark abyss and her mind began to play tricks on her and when Jeremy came to her aide she thought it was you. God knows she wanted it to be you! She'd never have kissed him if she'd been in the right mind! You and I both know that." Carol added, hoping to appeal to the logic side of him, however limited it may be.
She was struck down by his careless scoff and he returned to cleaning the gun. Her brows furrowed and blue eyes narrowed in disbelief. Was he serious?
"For a man who is so attached to a woman you sure know how to act like you don't care." She said with stern astonishment. "I know you care. I know what I'm saying is getting to you."
Carol jumped a little when Daryl slammed the gun on the table and stood, kicking the seat back. Her heart stuttered in her chest and she was reminded of Ed for a split second. He stalked towards her until he was a foot away and on his face he wore a fed up expression full of red anger.
"It ain't none o' ya fuckin' business! Why can't ya fuckin' stay outta other people's business?!"
Carol straightened her back and looked up into his eyes, matching the coldness. She was a strong woman and she was tired of men talking down to her. If Daryl wanted a fight about this then she was willing to bring it and end it all.
"When it involves someone I care about I make it my business." She replied lowly, calmly and stubbornly.
"Wha' tha hell do ya want?" He snarled, his hands curled into tight fists at his side.
Only her voice softened, her face keeping that blank expression. "I want you to realize that you're only hurting each other by doing this."
"She better get used ta it." Daryl hissed without empathy and those careless words struck a deadly chord in Carol.
He couldn't mean that. How could he act so careless of MaryJane when they both know he'd rather die than lose her again?!
"You love her! I know you do so stop putting this hard ass, emotionless face forward!" She seethed hard at him, wanting so much to knock the side of his head to see if his sense would return.
Pissed, Daryl turned away, not wanting Carol to see the pure, raw betrayal and sadness that replaced the anger on his face.
"She lied ta me." He growled in his gravelly voice.
Because of his lowered voice Carol lowered hers. It was obvious that yelling got nowhere with the youngest Dixon.
"So? When haven't we all lied to each other about big and little things?" She asked and even from gazing at his back she saw that he was stumped.
His back slouched in the slightest, his shoulders, defeated and Carol took a step closer, her face curling with compassion.
"I can see the hurt in your eyes. It hurts to be away from her. Trust me, she's hurting too and if this is your way of punishing her for what she did I think she's been punished enough."
Wrong thing to say. His body stiffened as straight as a pole, the weak expression was gone and he turned on her to snarl down at her with warning. The Daryl that could've been reasoned with was gone with just a blink of an eye.
"Stay out o' it." It wasn't a warning, but an order.
Carol was done taking orders.
She shook her head and crossed her arms, giving him her strongest face he'd ever seen.
"No, not this time."
Daryl made a contorted face of confusion at her. What the hell was her problem? Why was she raving on it like a mad woman? Why the fuck was it any of her business?
"Why ya so fuckin concerned 'bout me and MaryJane?" He growled.
That was it. He didn't get and she was tired of trying to be gentle. If Merle could get things through his thick skull by yelling then she was all for trying it. She practically exploded on him, startling Daryl for a moment like she did when she repeatedly put an axe into her husband's brain.
"Because you love each other! Because if she were to walk right out that gate you wouldn't hesitate to drag her back! I'm so concerned because I know that if someone tried to hurt her you'd make them pay the price!"
Daryl bristled at her tone and he met her yell. "Fuck that! Leave me alone, Carol."
Leaving the gun pieces, Daryl threw on his jacket and grabbed his vest. Frustrated, tears began to prick at her eyes. Inside her body was feeling pity and disbelief. If Daryl truly loved her then he was showing a good amount of real animosity towards her. Was he really going to torture the both of them like this forever? Carol didn't want to see either of them taking extra care to avoid each other in the prison. She wanted to see them both happy. He was only going to slowly kill them both for this.
"You can't do this, Daryl." She said tearful, the rising lump threatening to weaken her voice.
He threw his vest onto the desk, momentarily seeing the tears in her eyes, but they didn't stop him from exploding on her. Be damned it she cried!
"Wha' tha hell do ya want from me, Carol?! Why can't ya leave it alone?!" He asked through clenched teeth.
She swore she heard some kind of weakness in his voice, like maybe something in him was considering what she was saying. She willed herself to be strong because it was all going to be worth it in the end.
"Because I'm not about to sit here and let you throw away the best thing that's ever happened to you!" She exclaimed back, her tears clouding her vision.
Carol saw the split of emotions in his eyes and swore from the glint of the candle that his own eyes were filling with water. His face curled into that face like he was trying to hold back his cries. She'd seen his face before after Rick first met Daryl and told him he led him handcuffed to a roof in Atlanta. Daryl hastily turned away and began to put the gun hastily back together with shaking hands.
"Wha' tha hell do ya want from me?" He asked weakly, but holding some of his strength as he slammed pieces together.
"I want the truth." Carol beseeched, letting her arms fall to her sides as a tear threatened to fall.
He glanced at her and then threw the partially made gun onto the table haphazardly.
"Well tha fuckin' truth is I ain't done nothin' she ain't done!" He snarled, running a hand through his hair.
"That may be so, but she feels terrible! She regrets everything that's happened. She wants you back. She needs you back! I know you want her back too." Carol tried to appeal to his emotional side, the one he tried to keep locked away all the time.
She jumped again when his strong fists came down on the table in shaking frustration.
"Ya don't know shit 'bout my feelins'!"
He was fighting, but Carol saw he was only fighting like a scared animal that was stuck in a corner without any means of escape. She had him then. Keep applying the pressure and he would surely break.
Deciding to apply another tactic, she knew it would probably only anger him, but it was the truth. "You can't pretend with me, Daryl. If you keep doing this then she'll force herself to walk away and to someone else who'll want her. That's Jeremy. Do you realize that you're only pushing her towards him?! If you keep giving her the cold shoulder she won't want you back when you finally realize that you need her!"
Daryl blinked the years back from his eyes, not wanting Carol to see him cry. Deep inside he was trying to deny what she said, but the lump that was the source of blood flow in his body clenched painfully with the truth of her words. He didn't want to believe that it could happen. He wanted to think that no matter what MaryJane would still be there for him like she always was, never straying from him even if he pushed her away. Maybe that had been his hope all along, that she would come back for him even though he said those things to her, but she hadn't and that knowledge made only what Carol said truly terrify him. He didn't have anything to say back. He didn't know what to say back. His inner emotions made it hard for him to even think straight. That side of him that locked away all emotions was cracked and he felt the overwhelming wave of feelings take over his shaking body.
"Do you want to lose her for good? Because that's what's coming if you brush her off! We may find more survivors and then she might find someone who'll want her and not judge her for her past mistakes. Eventually, someone will come around and realize that she's beautiful and that they could make her happy."
It may've been harsh to continue on like that, but she had his full attention with lack of snarling remarks. Carol planned on keeping that attention. Even if it called MaryJane's loyalty to him in question. Daryl was thrown back into the past, the image of her MaryJane holding hands with one of the football players at their school. She had been smiling at something he said and she stopped at her locker to get a book where the asshole leaned against the lockers beside her and made her laugh. Daryl had been standing with two of his friends a good thirty yards away, something he know knew as jealously burning in his veins. He returned to the present and felt that familiar burn in his veins.
Carol softened her voice, swallowing the lump in her throat. "She told me about the Cherokee Rose story. Said she told it to you in high school." She smiled. "She said that it made you feel better when you began missing your mom and her parents lost her baby brother. Now when I've gotten to know her I can see from your past actions how you reacted. I know you thought of MaryJane when she were angry and she helped calm you."
It finally occurred to her that the reaction Daryl was having now was similar to the ones when he thought he'd lost someone he cared about. Especially when he thought he lost Merle to Atlanta.
"...I know that it must've destroyed you when Glenn, Rick, and T-Dog told you about Merle. You'd lost MaryJane, then Merle...I could only imagine the pain you felt that day..."
Another realization came over her, reminding her of her thoughts from earlier with MaryJane.
"You went after Sophia, partly for me, but because MaryJane would want you to, because you imagined it was her out there and that you'd never be fulfilled until you found her. You imagined it was the child you had with her or you imagined her herself out there, lost. You searched for Sophia like you tried to search for MaryJane." A lone tear slid from her eyes as she spoke, the emotions of Daryl's thoughts dropping on her like a safe. "I reminded you of MaryJane too, didn't I? Something about me just made you think of her...anyways...I don't say this to patronize you or something, I'm doing this to make you realize your mistake before it's too late. I don't want you to lose the best thing that's ever happened to you, Daryl."
Daryl averted his dark eyes from her, sniffing and wiping the end of his nose. Without knowing, a tear had slipped from his unwillingly wet eyes and he hastily wiped it away, realizing that Carol had hit it dead on the nail. Haven his own thoughts voiced aloud made the aching feeling in his gut more powerful. The emptiness in his chest yearned for the one who held his heart. His bed had been extremely cold since it all happened a short while ago and he missed the warmth and security MaryJane's body provided.
He blinked feverishly to get the tears to go away and sniffed again, his chest contracting with white pain.
"I miss her." Daryl whispered pitifully.
Carol came closer, wanting to comfort him. She'd finally gotten through to him and the joy she felt was enough to equal that of ten people's joy.
"I know you do. Just go back to talk to her." She suggested wisely.
Daryl closed his eyes tightly and shook his head as he slid into his seat. "She won't take me back." He breathed with surety.
Like a mother going to console her troubled child, Carol kneeled beside him and turned his pitiful face towards his with one of her own. The other rested on his knee comfortingly.
"She will." She said with strength and assurance, her words and tone giving him strength. "And if she tries not to then you fight, Daryl. You fight for her because you love her. Never give up on her because I know she loves you too, more than anything else in this world. Fight, Daryl, fight for her like you always have."
Daryl gazed down at Carol with so much emotion that it startled her. She saw his inner feelings, feelings he rarely showed. Her own heart clenched as she saw the pain, betrayal, anger, and sadness mix together in his dark blue eyes to create that one emotion of desperation and loss. He looked so weak, used, broken, and unsure. The way he looked now was very un-Dixon-like, but it showed the man Carol knew him to be underneath. A good one. Slowly, his eyes grew hard, a mix between determination and uncertainty. She knew she had him and that her talk worked. He might not run to MaryJane tonight or the next day, but she knew he would be thinking very hard about what she said. The older woman was confident that Daryl and MaryJane would be holding hands by the end of the week. MaryJane would forgive him easily and take him back because she always had before and Carol knew that wasn't about to change. She loved Daryl and would forgive him for anything. It's what a soul mate did for the other. Moved on and forgot.
Carol dropped her bony hand and squeezed his knee, offering him a smile of encouragement. Daryl watched as she stood and made for the door. Her small hand grabbed the frame and stopped in the middle of the door then turned to look back at him with a sure and gentle expression.
"Don't worry about her hating you. She could never hate you and even if you think she won't...she'll take you back...she always will."
Daryl's expression was blank, but Carol knew he understood and walked out the door. Dark blue eyes stared at the place the silver haired woman was at seconds ago. She always managed to surprise him with her strength. She had real balls to come into his cell and talk to him like that. He admired and despised her at the same time. She was a real woman who grew since her liberation from her sorry ass husband a year or so ago. Tonight he saw just how powerful she'd grown and a part of him was proud of her. But that didn't excuse her just waltzing in there and speaking to him like he was an idiot.
Maybe he was an idiot though. She made some very good points and brought forth happy memories from the past that only caused him more agony in the present. He wasn't stupid, she wanted to cause him pain by threatening his reason to live would leave him for another man. She wanted to scare him and she did a damn fine job of it too.
He lowered his eyes to the table where the pieces of the Beretta lay, strewn apart like a hot mess. Indeed, he'd been a hot mess with his jumbled thoughts and snarky, smart ass attitude. Without breaking his eyes from the pistol he slipped his jacket off and threw it on the bunk. He plopped down in his chair, gazing at the disassembled weapon with mixed curiosity. It was funny how he felt the same way the gun looked, scattered, unhinged, dirty, in pieces. Every piece he gazed at reminded him of his treatment of MaryJane and how wrong and stupid he was. He closed his eyes and remembered everything about that day. He remembered the blind rage he felt, the betrayal and the sadness that had enveloped him, causing red to haze his vision.
It wasn't any secret that when Daryl got really angry he lost control and didn't think ahead. Everyone knew that if you pissed him off enough he would go blind with rage and in the end he'd feel shitty as hell. It was worse in the beginning when the world first went to shit and he was real hot shit and knew everything. Of course, he'd been tamed years before, before she vanished. When she was gone the smart ass, hot shit returned, leaving the good man he was behind.
Daryl remembered how he just wanted to punch or kill someone, but he recalled the memory of his inability to hit women, especially her. He'd never lay a hand on her in violence. That's why he had paced, to let a little steam out. However, if there was one thing he remembered most, it was her face, the pure fear that she stared at him with on her beautiful face. No matter how hard he tried to lock it away, her face always came back, taunting him. It killed him internally every time he went to sleep because he saw her face and watched those tears fall from her eyes. He detested tears and for her to cry like that was an indicator of how sorry and desperate she really was. He should've seen that the moment it happened, but when someone was in a red haze of anger that rang in the ears...it's hard to take notice of anything else. Now, he let her face haunt him, memorizing every detail of her hurt, tear stained face.
She had begged and pleaded with him to listen to her, to let her explain, but he had shut her down. He hadn't wanted to hear her talk. He was hurting so bad that just looking at her made him want to crumble. She betrayed him after promising him forever. Daryl was long tired of promises being broken and hers was one he clung to, but to have it broken destroyed him. Though, in recent events Daryl was starting to question if it was really broken at all.
"You and I both know that MaryJane is emotionally fragile and when she thought she would never find you she fell into that dark abyss and her mind began to play tricks on her and when Jeremy came to her aide she thought it was you. God knows she wanted it to be you! She'd never have kissed him if she'd been in the right mind! You and I both know that."
Daryl knew that. She'd never kiss anyone. Ever. She wasn't a girl who was easily swayed by romantic gestures of other men and she always ignored them unless they were from him, but he didn't know a thing about romance then and still didn't. Somehow, she still bound herself to him and while they were really together she didn't break it. Neither did he. He never thought he'd practice abstinence, but when MaryJane came into his life and made him want a serious relationship he found the strength to do it. It was easier than he thought. When she said that she didn't go out with any other guys in college he trusted her since it was hard for her to lie. Carol had made the point that lying was something they all had to do in today's world so what did one little lie mean? To him...everything.
The tracker blinked at that sudden thought. MaryJane couldn't lie. It wasn't in her blood to lie unless it was a little white one to spare someone else's feelings. So, what happened to make her kiss the Germ? She wasn't in the right mind but what mind set was she in to make her fall into "that dark abyss" Carol had called it. Was it depression? The bottle? No, she didn't like to drink. Was it drugs? No again. Con and Katie would throw a bitch fit at that. Daryl leaned his elbows on the desk, staring hard at the wall as he thought. Was it truly depression? Even when he was depressed he didn't think another girl was MaryJane and try to get her pants off.
He was a silent brooder, one who kept his feelings to himself and tried to keep his head on straight when time called for it. He wouldn't deny that his dreams had been plagued by her, making his loss much harder to bear and with the pain brought on his desire to cover it up with toughness. He blamed his attitude with the group in Atlanta on his need to hide his pain and what better way than to act like an asshole? It kept people off your case instead of questioning you.
"MaryJane is emotionally fragile..."
He nodded his head. That much was true. He noticed a change in her when she arrived back into his life. She was still the same, but he noticed she was weaker in some ways and he knew it was from stress of running all the time. Stress only made Daryl pissed. Sure, it worried him, but she was still strong and could survive forever. Yet, he wondered if she was as broken from their separation as he was. Could it be that when she was lost and alone for that week before Con found her that she had some extreme meltdown and something in her cracked? Most likely, the world now would make anybody crack.
In the past, Daryl did things to help make her stronger physically and mentally, knowing that a day would come when she would use all of it. Maybe it wasn't enough. After Con found her she must've been in a depressed state of shock and the kid warmed up to her enough to trick her. His blue eyes darkened, his hands curling into fists. He could definitely see the Germ doing that. He was malicious enough. He used MaryJane and tricked her into thinking it was Daryl and it back fired on him. She didn't want it to be the kid.
Daryl could see that happening. MaryJane was smart, but when she was in a state like that he knew anything could happen. Could it be that Carol and Merle were right? Apparently, she both talked to them so, what if she wasn't lying to him? She couldn't lie to him which meant...
He'd been a total, immature, thick-headed asshole to her.
At the odd realization he shut his eyes tightly, her sad, agonized face playing behind his eyelids like a skipping record. Fuck him up the asshole and call him Daisy. It was like he fog had lifted from his rage fueled mind and the sun was bright, showing him the error of his ways. It all made sense. MaryJane didn't keep the kiss from him to lie to him...she was doing it to protect him from his own emotions. There was even the possibility that she was going to tell him when she was ready. She wouldn't hide a secret like that for long since she had a guilty conscience. Merle was right about that. She didn't feel anything for the kid, nothing but friendship and he just threw himself on her like a desperate dog in heat!
Fuck me! Fuck me to hell!
He slammed a fist on the table, guilt washing over him like a tsunami, making him remember every tiny detail of the pain he caused her that day. He'd been successful in forgetting about and ignoring it, but the guilt broke the defenses away, showering him with something he would never forget. He was a dick, a sum bitch, a worthless piece of shit, a stubborn loser and most of all, he was a stupid, thick-headed idiot. How terrible he was to her. He just left her in the rain, standing there, ready to collapse and tell himself that he didn't care. At the moment he didn't care. Now, he was asking himself what happened to her after he left? Did she collapse? Did she stand out in the rain all night long and catch cold? Did she make it inside and cry herself to sleep?
He didn't know if she was even okay since he did everything in his power to avoid her. Why didn't he stop to think about her and her wellbeing? Because he was pissed as hell...but that was no excuse. Carol and Merle were right. For a man who claimed to love her he didn't give two shits for her physical state. It made him no better than Ed. His eyes narrowed at that thought. It was true and he hated it. He was no better than that lazy ass, wife beating bastard who called himself a real man.
Fuck me.
Carol had been right when she said that he really did care...but what did that matter anymore? He already made a dick out of himself. How did he know for sure that she would really take him back?
"Don't worry about her hating you. She could never hate you and even if you think she won't...she'll take you back...she always will."
Daryl prayed to God that Carol was right. If she wasn't then he may as well shoot himself with his own crossbow.
Sleep was scarce that night for MaryJane, Daryl, Merle and Beth, but for the odd couple the lack of sleep was worth it. MaryJane and Daryl couldn't sleep due to anxiety and worry. So, they both did what they always did to ease their troubled minds. Thinking about happier times.
Daryl lay in his bunk after an hour of long thought and he wanted to forget the guilt and self-hatred and trade it in for a few hour's rest. The only way he knew to relax himself was to remember the past. Earlier in the night Carol made mention of MaryJane saying that she told him the story about the Cherokee rose. She hadn't lied. She really was the one who told him about it. It was about six months into the school year and her mom had been three months pregnant. It was a miracle to the Jenkins since they were an older couple with an eighteen year old daughter. It had been a boy they were having and MaryJane was ecstatic to have a younger sibling and she rattled on endlessly to Daryl about it. He always listened with patience, eager to see the excited sparkle in her whiskey colored eyes. Though, the excitement didn't last long for something happened and MaryJane's mom, Hope, lost the baby. Daryl remembered well the day it happened he drove her to the hospital to be with her parents and the days following that fateful night.
Eighteen year old Daryl leaned back against the apple tree in on top of the hill in the Jenkins' backyard, his Math book forgotten beside him. He waited patiently for his friend to return to him, his blue gaze scanning the valley that the lawyer's house sat in. He could barely make out movement in the kitchen windows as MaryJane went to grab some snacks and drinks. He'd wanted to help, but the newly turned eighteen year old ordered him to finish his math problems while she was gone. Scowling, he finished what he could, a few of the problems confusing him.
It had been five days since Hope lost their baby boy and the funeral was only the other day. They laid the infant to rest by his deceased grandparents where the family hoped they would find him in the spiritual world. Daryl wanted to scoff at that, but held his tongue. He didn't believe God cared for man, not anymore and despite loving all the little children, Daryl couldn't help but feel hated by Him. So, in turn he hated Him back. He let MaryJane and her family have their hopes and a part of him wanted to believe that the baby would be okay...where ever he was now. Yeah, he'd gone to the funeral, feeling an obligated desire to be there for MaryJane. He was surprised that she held his hand throughout the ceremony. It wasn't the first time she held his hand, but every time her fingers curled around his he felt his heart jump.
In the present day, MaryJane came to school and, like a mature woman, she told him that he could come over for a math lesson at her house that afternoon. He figured she would've wanted an afternoon to herself, but she insisted that her helping him was more important...and it helped take her mind off...what happened. So, there he was, leaning against the apple tree, waiting for her to return with the snack. Daryl wasn't blind nor stupid. He saw that she was still off kilter and her emotions were running wild. At times she stopped in mid-explanation of a math problem and he'd have to snap her out of it before she started blubbering everywhere. He doubted she would get over it soon, but he missed her cheery smile and snappy retorts that made him like her even more.
He was pulled from his thoughts when he heard the back, sliding door close. MaryJane approached with a large plate with sandwiches, chips and sodas. Daryl couldn't help but watch her and feel something in him just collapse at her beauty. She was dazzling in a crimson red dress with light brown sandals, a matching belt around her waist, a blue jean, mid torso jacket and a fake flower in her hair. His eyes fell to her collarbone which was exposed by the round dip of the dress, exposing a hint of the mounds of her breasts. He felt his stomach clench and looked away. He couldn't like her any more than he already did and he already liked her...a lot.
MaryJane fell into her knees beside him and set the plate between them. Daryl snatched up a ham sandwich and wasted no time in chowing down. He felt her eyes watch him and for a fleeting moment he felt self-conscious. He heard the pop of her diet soda can and watched her from the corner of his eye. She didn't even pick up anything to eat and he frowned slightly. When she was upset she barely ate and it was a bad habit, but Daryl didn't have much room to talk. He was the same way to a certain degree.
"Ya a'ight?" He asked after taking a sip of his soda.
She nodded, but it was an obvious lie. "Yeah,"
Daryl turned his head to stare at her and she dropped her eyes. She fiddled with the tab on the coke can, her emotions playing on her face little a book's words. She was in pain and Daryl had no idea what to do. He wanted to help, but he didn't know how. He set his partially eaten sandwich on the plate and the coke can at his side. Awkward silence rang between them and Daryl was actually missing the pointless chit chat she forced him to endure in the months passed. He wanted to hear her talk so…despite himself he asked her what was wrong even though he usally didn't give two shits about anyone else's feelings. MaryJane was different though. He knew she was different the moment she first spoke to him.
"Ya know...I lost my mom when I was a kid..." He stared at the back of the house, but felt her eyes turn towards him. Good. "...she died in a house fire. Apparently she fell asleep smokin' a cigarette and tha ashes started tha fire. I had friends in tha neighborhood that I played with. I could do that when Merle wasn't 'round. He was servin' 'nother round in juvie. While I was out playin' a fire truck and ambulance came rushin' by with cops in tow. I looked up and saw smoke risin'. My friends jumped on their bikes and took off. I had ta follow on foot 'cause I didn' have one. I couldn't keep up with 'em, but when I finally did I stopped to find all my friends starin' at me. That's when I looked up and saw it was my house on fire."
Daryl grabbed a blade of grass and began pulling it to pieces, feeling MaryJane's eyes burn into the side of his face.
"I'm sorry," She whispered quietly.
He shrugged, shaking his head. "It was a long time ago."
"Do you miss her?" MaryJane inquired curiously.
Daryl didn't have an answer. He was torn at that. Sometimes he missed her and other times he didn't. So, the question went unanswered. Another round of silence sat between them, only the wind and birds making sound.
"Why'd you tell me that? About your mom?"
Daryl glanced over at her. He was wondering that himself and even though he didn't have a real answer he wanted to give her some form of an explanation. Quickly he looked away, shredding another blade of grass.
"I guess I jus' wanted ya ta know that ya ain't tha only one who's lost someone...and knows wha' tha pain o' loss feels like."
He turned his eyes to her again to see a look of gratefulness. She looked somewhat comforted and her body relaxed a little. Daryl watched her as she grabbed the other sandwich with a ghost of a smile on her lips. With a masked hint of delight, Daryl's lips twitched upon seeing her actually eat however little it was.
MaryJane gazed at him thoughtfully as she ate and Daryl resumed eating as well. They each averted their eyes in different directions nervously and ate in silence. Daryl kept glancing at her from the corner of his eyes and was satisfied when she finished the sandwich. Several minutes later they finished everything and MaryJane took the plate back to the house before returning shortly. Daryl had to remind himself not to watch how she walked away from him. He'd caught himself staring at the way her hips swayed and reprimanded himself. She was off limits to him, Merle, and his friends. She was a girl who deserved a man like her father. However few of those that lived in their town.
When she finally returned up the hill she stopped beside him and he tilted his head back to look up at her.
"Wha'?"
She bit her bottom lip nervously before settling down on her knees beside him and his straightened legs.
"I want to show you something."
Daryl's eyes flickered to the small hand she held out to him. Oh, he'd been wanting to hold her hand again ever since the last few times she had. Without hesitation he took in and they stood together. She smiled brightly at him and began leading him down the hill, back towards her mother's flower garden. With well masked curiosity Daryl followed, unsure of where they were headed. He wasn't particularly fond of flowers, but obviously she had something to show him that would interest him. On the bright side, he was holding her hand, her fingers laced around his like they were meant to be there. He quickly shook the thought away when they stopped before a bare section in the flower garden that had a few weeds sprouting up. He furrowed his brows, but when his eyes landed on a lone, white flower he shot MJ a look.
"Mom wanted to plant petunias here, but when she came out here the other day and found this she didn't have the heart to touch it." MaryJane explained.
"But wha' is it?" He asked, noticing how she didn't release his hand.
"It's called a Cherokee rose. In the latter half of 1838, Cherokee People who hadn't voluntarily left their settled homes to move west were forced from their homes in the East. Obviously the trail was long, hard and many children were dying right and left. The mothers of lost children cried and cried, their tears mixing with the dust. The Elders called upon Heaven Dweller to help give the mothers' strength." Daryl watched her curiously as she stared at the flower, her voice getting deep with a lump that began to form in her throat. "The next morning the Elders told the women to look back down the trail where their tears fell and a plant had begun growing fast and covered the trail where they had walked. As the women watched, blossoms formed and slowly opened. They forgot their sadness and continued to press on."
Daryl found it hard not to concentrate on her as she concluded the story, her face showing much more emotion than before.
"Where'd ya learn that story?" He asked as he looked at the flower.
MaryJane sniffed and wiped the end of her nose. "My grandmother actually. Apparently she was the only child to survive out of nine babies born by her mom. You see, my great-grandmother was part Cherokee and that story was passed down from family to family and my grandmother's father told her the story then she told me when I was a child. I never thought I'd have someone to tell it to and I never thought I'd have a reason to."
Her fingers twitched gently around his and it finally struck him.
"Your mom tried ta work on this an' ya think the rose's here now 'cause yer mom cried 'ere?" Daryl asked with a natural, tiny hint of condescendence.
The pretty young girl beside him nodded. "A day before the funeral, mom wanted to get her mind off of it and despite doctors' orders she came out here and began pulling up weeds to calm herself because she had worked herself up, blaming herself for the baby's death and literally started beating the ground as she cried for him. Dad finally got her calm and took her into the house. At the time I didn't think anything of the story, but now that I see the flower here, I can't help but believe the legend is true."
Daryl frowned slightly at MaryJane, feeling guilt momentarily and turned his gaze back to the pretty white flower that stood tall and alone. He himself had a hard time not believing it himself.
"Apparently, my great grandmother had a whole backyard of roses because of how many children she lost and cried for. Grandma remembers her mom sitting out in the middle of them for hours, as if looking for strength...I believe those flowers grew for her babies and I believe that the same happened here for my mom. If the legend isn't true then..."
She trailed off as her jaw tightened with anger. Instinctively, Daryl squeezed her hand, making her sigh to calm herself. They stood in quiet for a while, just staring at the flower like it was the most beautiful thing on the planet. After a few minutes Daryl thought of a question that had no answer and despite his desire to not seem that interested in her business, it was something he itched to know.
"Wha' was his name? Yer brother?"
A light smile touched MaryJane's lips. "His name was Michael Hawk Jenkins."
For some reason, Daryl grinned at the name. They would have her father's name in there somewhere. Who the hell names their kid 'Hawk'?
MaryJane giggled. "Dad had to have in there somewhere because Hawk's a name that every male Jenkins has had for the past few generations. Michael was lucky to have it as a middle name instead of a first like dad."
Daryl grunted in agreement. "Though Hawk sounds pretty badass."
MaryJane let out a musical laugh and squeezed his hand, leaning her head against his shoulder affectionately and the gesture shocked Daryl, but he didn't stiffen, in fact, he relaxed in the slightest. The young tracker just glanced down at her head, having the urge to kiss it, but he held back, shifting his eyes back to the flower.
Daryl wouldn't forget that story, but he had no idea he'd use it in the future, when MaryJane was gone and the dead rose to take another child.
Daryl pulled from the memory, the grey feeling of melancholy festering in the air, ready for a match to be struck and blow the place up. He buried his face his in hands, thinking about when Sophia went missing and Daryl gave Carol the same flower he found just outside the abandoned house. It had been an eerie moment because when his eyes saw that flower and registered what it was he felt as if someone had punched him in the gut and all he could think of was her and that she too was lost. He gave it to Carol and recited the story, hoping it have Carol strength like it gave MaryJane, her mom and great-grandmother. He couldn't really tell if it helped, but he hoped it did.
A few hours or so ago, Carol had been truly right about how Daryl felt the day he came back from his hunt and found the deer devoured by a walker. It was the day he met Rick and they didn't hit it off on the right foot either. The tracker had been disgusted by his show of emotion towards the group upon hearing of their abandonment of Merle on the rooftop in Atlanta.
Daryl walked towards the camper, calling for his ugly ass brother to come strutting like a peacock from the place he called his so selfishly. He stopped when Shane spoke up behind him.
"Daryl, just slow up a bit. I need ta talk ta you."
Daryl glanced at the camper before turning around and looking at Shane who rubbed his nose.
"'Bout wha'?" The hunter asked uncertainly.
Shane strode past him. "'Bout Merle."
Something inside Daryl grew cold. What the fuck was he talking about?
"There was a— uh…there was a problem in Atlanta." The police officer said seriously and gently as he stopped a good ten feet in front of the camper and turned back to glance at Daryl, assessing his reaction.
Daryl's stomach dropped, his heart stuttering. The familiar pain of loss he learned to live with washed over him. The blood in his veins grew solid with ice. A problem in Atlanta? The only thing Daryl could think was: Not again.
Not fuckin' again. Please, not again.
He glanced around at the others that began to form a circle. After doing a quick assessment, especially of the stranger in the white shirt, he took a few steps around Shane, masking the panic the pain he felt inside.
"He dead?" The tracker inquired darkly as he cast his dark blue eyes to the ground.
As much as he fought the emotions they wouldn't be ignored. The lump began rising in his throat as dreaded tears itched at the back of his eyes. Waiting for an answer, he glanced up at Shane, making sure he looked calm, but the hurt and rage he felt next to the others peeked through his eyes, the way he set his jaw and his tense stance.
No, no, please no. He practically chanted in his head and a part of him hoped the answer wasn't what he knew it could be. He couldn't lost another person he cared about. Not after her.
"We're not sure." Shane replied gently, keeping his eyes on the pacing, hostile man before him.
Daryl, feeling the protective animal rear up in him, snapped back at Shane. "He either is or he ain't!"
He circled around Shane until his back was to the camper entrance where most of the women stood watching, silently nervous of how the youngest Dixon would react. Daryl stared at Shane, waiting for more, but the man in the white shirt stepped towards him. Daryl turned his hard gaze to the man and the defensive sensation in his muscles made him tense.
"Theres no easy way to say this, so I'll just say it."
"Who're you?" Daryl asked, grimacing at the man who so confidently strode up to him.
He was a cop, Daryl could tell and despite his respect for the men in blue, he hated them.
"Rick Grimes," He answered.
"Rick Grimes," He practically spat the name in his hazy mixture of hurt and anger. "You got somethin' ya wanna tell me?"
Daryl stared the man down, his face stone cold, his body moving constantly to show his agitation like he was a caged animal ready to strike when threatened or provoked.
"Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal…he's still there." Rick Grimes explained short and sweet.
Daryl's tough bravado cracked and the lump choked him. The tears from the back of his eyes threatened to flow over, his heart feeling like someone took a sledge hammer to it and made it crack. Not fuckin' again! No! NO!
"Hold on." He said, his voice cracking slightly from the lump in his esophagus.
He wiped the water from his eyes, sniffing as the hammering grief surfaced violently, threatening to bring him to his knees. He dropped his hand, viciously shoving back the sorrow and letting the anger take over him. His mind began to spin as he tried to line everything together in a neat little row. She'd been good at getting him to do it, kept him focused on school work.
"Let me process this." He said weakly, moving his finger in a circular motion around his ear and slowly turned back towards Rick who looked calm and collected.
The complete opposite of Daryl.
"Yer sayin' ya handcuffed my brother ta a roof…" He lunged slightly towards Rick in intimidating emphasis. "…and you LEFT HIM THERE?!" He shouted viciously.
Rick was silent for a few seconds, staring at Daryl who glared back. "Yeah,"
Daryl's face curled with fury, his already broken heart seeming to fall to pieces once again. Everything around him turned red, the Dixon blood boiling in his veins. This guy practically killed his brother!
Not. Again.
He snapped, grunting as he threw the rope of squirrels at Rick and lunged from him. He grunted again when Shane tackled him.
"Hey!"
Daryl rolled onto his back, the red clouding his vision, the only thing on his mind was to kill. He was going to kill the man who took his brother from him. He couldn't avenge her, but he could avenge his brother. He grabbed the knife at his belt and stood up.
"Watch the knife!" Shane warned, crouched down, ready to lunge again.
Rick stood a short distance away, Daryl's deadly blue eyes trained on his target with revenge written them. The tracker lunged for Rick, swinging his arm with the knife, shouting as he did so.
"Violence never solves anything, Daryl, you have to be calm or something really bad could happen to you or to someone you care about."
Her voice flowed through his head and because of his natural reaction to find her it weakened his attack. Rick smacked his face during his distracted thoughts and grabbed the arm that he held the knife with and held on. Daryl grunted as Shane jumped in, grabbing his other arm and wrapping one of his around the hunter's neck. With expert skills, Rick knocked the knife from Daryl's grip while Shane kept a tight hold on him.
"You'd best let me go!" Daryl grunted against Shane's powerful hold.
He wanted to kill.
"Nah, I think it's better if I don't." Shane replied smartly.
His breath was getting cut off as Shane tightened his hold, his knees weakening from the loss of mobility and Shane's purposeful attempt to bring him down. Daryl's able arm grabbed at one of Shane's trying to pry the muscled arms from his throat. He grunted as he felt his lower body touch the ground.
"Choke hold's illegal!" He choked, feeling his face turn hot as the blood rushed to his face.
"You can file a complaint." Shane retorted, grunting as he held the strong hunter in the hold.
His oxygen left him and Daryl began to gasp for air, his face curling in the pain in his lungs. He fought still, thinking of how weak he looked, how weak he really was. How weak he was in protecting her. Daryl stared at the ground, clawing at Shane's back, but it didn't faze the cop. Rick kneeled down before the grounded Dixon, his voice calm.
"I'd like ta have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we could manage that?" He asked, in full cop mode.
Daryl only gasped, stubborn, thinking he could hold out to get the cop off him.
"Do you think we can manage that?" Rick repeated, staring at the redneck.
"Hmm?" Shane added, his muscles straining against the power of Daryl's struggle.
Daryl lifted his eyes towards Rick, feeling his muscles weaken, the pain in his chest unhelpful to his cause. She would've told him to give up and calm down. She would've been able to do it, make him stop. If she were there maybe he'd be more willing to have a calm discussion. Even though a Dixon wouldn't accept to defeat, Daryl knew when he was had. Besides, if not for the whisperings of a dead woman in his head he gave up partially because she wouldn't wanted him to. She didn't like the idea of him getting hurt and he knew it. Despite his confidence that he could've knocked Shane off, he just knew that she would be disappointed in him.
The tracker gritted his teeth as he began to pant for breath making Rick and Shane glance at each other. Roughly, Shane threw the redneck away from him. Daryl rolled onto his back and began to crawl back on his elbows, gasping in relief as the air came running down his throat, seeming to go right through the lump that had formed there. Rick kneeled next to him, still calm which baffled Daryl. He rolled onto his side, bracing his hands against the ground, his body turned towards Rick's as he listened, and the red haze faded as her haunting voice soothed him.
"It's okay, shh, calm down, it's okay now."
No. Go away. Stop. He seethed, feeling the pitting hole in his chest where the unfeeling, shattered lump of muscle sat. He felt the same tears well up in his blue eyes, his face turning downward as the throbbing turned into stings inside. She was killing him slowly. Every time he heard her voice he felt a part of him die. Soon enough he'd be no better than the walkers. If Merle was dead then nothing else mattered.
"What it did was not on a whim." Rick explained, hoping to talk some sense into the hostile man. "Your brother does not work and play well with others."
Daryl's breathing began to slow as the air quickly caught up in his lungs. He knew the stranger was right, but it was his brother for Christ's sake! That was his nature! Suddenly, a familiar voice broke from in front of them and both men glanced over. T-Dog stood there nervously and his dark eyes full of remorse.
"It's not Rick's fault. I had the key…I dropped it."
"You couldn't pick it up?!" Daryl breathed like the African American was stupid.
"Well, I dropped it in a drain." T-Dog added, seeing the disturbing crack of sadness in Daryl's eyes.
Never would T-Dog see such a phenomenon pass over the youngest Dixon again. Daryl scoffed and dropped his head. He'd lost his brother. He was gone just like she was. What else did he have to live for? Everything he loved was gone now. His point in existing was destroyed. It felt as if his world was ash, the grey flecks little, precious moments of the past and of the life he wanted to have with Merle and, most importantly, with her.
Unfeeling of something wet dripping down his face, he weakly crawled to his feet, the weight of his loss making his limbs shake with the torment that ripped through every nerve he possessed. He grabbed a small rock and threw it away in frustration as he glared weakly at T-Dog.
"It it's supposed ta make me feel better, it don't." He spat feebly, stalking past him, ignoring the wet trail down his face.
"Well, maybe this will." T-Dog murmured.
Daryl's heart leapt with hope. He stopped a few feet from the African American who stood close to Shane. Maybe he was too soon to give up on hope.
"Look, I chained the door to the roof so the geeks couldn't get at him…with a padlock. It's gotta count for something." He explained with masked hopefulness in his dark eyes.
Daryl stared at him, surprising T-Dog, Rick and Shane, his eyes softened, his features not as dark as they were before. Despite the partially good news, his heart only fell again. The odds weren't good, but there was that chance. The tracker grimaced the pain back, swallowing the lump that refused to leave. If they left him since yesterday he might've already died from heat exhaustion or dehydration. Even the geeks could've slipped through. Those thoughts broke Daryl down even further. Her voice didn't return and the hurt only intensified the stabs in his gut. Another stray water drop spilled from his eye and he scrubbed it away with the back of his hand, blinking back the rest of the water that wanted to escape.
"Hell wit' all ya'll!" He yelled painfully, stepping away. "Jus' tell me where he is so's I can go get 'im."
He needed to know. He needed to know one way or the other if he was dead or undead. He couldn't leave him either way.
You left her. What difference would it make if you left Merle? A voice taunted.
Shut the fuck up! Daryl yelled internally and it silenced the other voice.
"He'll show you. Isn't that right?" Lori said from the camper entrance.
Daryl shot his cold eyes to her. Why the fuck would she do that? Did she take pity on Daryl? Did she feel bad for him? Rick stared at the dark haired woman for a few long moments then nodded as he inhaled deeply from the heat.
"I'm goin' back." He said, placing his hands on his hips.
Daryl stared at Rick for a few seconds before stalking off and away from the group. He broke into a jog as he headed into the forest, the one place he could find solitude. He didn't go far and stopped before a large oak tree, bracing his hands against the rough bark. He closed his eyes and willed himself to calm down, to forget the emotions that violently erupted in him back there. He considered himself justifiable in his actions, but his feeling that way didn't help him calm down. His thoughts turned to Merle who was no doubt either suffering or already a walker. Either way he was gone from him like she was the day he left her to die alone. What hope did Daryl have?
"There's always hope, Daryl. Even if you don't think there is…hope never dies." Her voice whispered.
A sob broke from his chest, his face scrunched up as a tear fell from his eyes. He opened his eyes and laid a punch against the tree. Ignoring the sting of pain, he began to beat at the foliage, her face popping into his head. How he missed her! His entire body ached with the loss.
"Fuck it!" He yelled at the tree. "Jus' fuck it all!"
Exhaustion from his powerful emotions made him throw his back against the bark. His knees buckled, causing him to slide down the length of the tree until his bottom touched the ground. He buried his face in his dirty hands, letting the water works have their fun and stain his face. He couldn't hold them back anyways. Daryl had no strength left.
"It's okay to cry, Daryl. It's better for you if you do because if you hold it all in for too long you'll end up exploding. I know what that feels like and it's a terrible feeling. So, if you need to cry then don't worry about being weak because tears aren't a sign of weakness, they're a sign that you've been strong for far too long."
So Daryl did just that. He cried, ugly sobs wracking from his chest and in between his lips. The agonizing torture of hot pain in his chest was something he never wanted to feel again, but he knew he would. If the suffering wouldn't go away then he'd have to make room for it or make it go away. How he planned on doing that, he didn't know. He bowed his head, curling his knees against his chest into a near fetal position, riding out the misery like he always did. Riding it out was the only way he knew he could survive because there wasn't much room to make way for more pain. He wouldn't allow it.
It occurred to him too that she might be there, a walker slinking around the streets, parts of her eaten off, her body dead, eyes discolored from death. If he saw her then he'd break completely. A part of him would die if he found Merle as a walker, but if he found her as a walker then he would put a bullet in his own head. He didn't want to believe she was one of them, but if it turned out to be so then he wouldn't want to continue on. Though, until he had solid proof she no longer existed on the earth then he'd keep hope that she had survived.
Hope…that was all he could do.
Another sob cut through him, the tears that fell seeming to cool the burning in his heart. He learned early on that her advice about crying had been right. He wouldn't admit it aloud to her, but it seemed to wash him clean, make the pain more bearable. He rarely cried though, unless the memories and haunting of her voice became too much to handle. Daryl wouldn't all-out sob like he was at the moment, but unwanted tears would be shed and then he could move on. The main reason he broke down was because of the possibility of losing his brother too. It was one thing having to leave her behind, it was another thing to lose Merle because of the elder's sheer stupidity and need to control.
Losing one nearly brought him to his knees, losing both would destroy him. They were all he had left and now only one was there. His purpose for life was vanishing like time did for Daryl and the only woman he wanted mind, body and soul.
God, he missed her!
Daryl smacked his knees in frustration. He couldn't have her. She was gone, she his Northern star was far, far away from him.
"Even if we're separated I'll always be there."
Unconsciously, he reached into his right pocket, his fingers wrapping around the thin material and gently pulled it out. With a shaky hand he lifted the small item towards his face. There she was, staring back at him with a smile that stopped his heart. His thumb traced over her face affectionately and absentmindedly.
"Promise me you'll look after yourself."
Daryl stared at the picture, tears staining his dirty face. He wiped his mouth, sniffing heavily. He gazed into her dark eyes, the pain suddenly gone from him. The tracker felt completely numb, like a flick had been switched. He brought the picture to his lips and kissed her face before cupping it lovingly in his rough, calloused hands.
"I promise, MaryJane."
Jerking from the memory, Daryl sniffed and wiped his wet eyes, unaware a tear had escaped his eyes. The agonizing turmoil he felt that day was unbearable and to think about it only made it raw. His chest felt torn and his stomach stabbed. Those were terrible feelings that just made someone want to lash out violently or curl into a ball and cry. For Daryl it had been a mix of both, but the Dixon side of him lashed out, his instincts reacting in the only way he knew. Now, everything he wanted to be true was so. Merle was alive and MaryJane was alive. He scoffed at the irony. He begged to have her back and when he did it was so viciously torn from him.
But he could get it back. It wasn't too late. Not yet.
Not too bad, eh? Now that, that is settled hopefully Daryl will jump to it right? I particularly loved this chapter and I loved writing it. I hoped I kept Daryl in character, but making it reasonable for him to act the way he does. The man's been through a long emotional roller coaster! More to come soon and I get more time to write it since I updated early. By the way, whoever is my 100th review will become very high in my book and brownie points will be earned. I may even do something special for you if time and my life and other fanfictions allow.
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