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"I'm going huntin' tomorrah but won't be back til the next afternoon'." Daryl told Jameson over dinner. Jameson chewed her pasta, slurping up a noodle causing Daryl to grin.
" 'fraid my manners are rubbin' off on ya darlin'" he drawled while dropping a fork full of spaghetti in his mouth, his cheek bulging from the heaping. Jameson chuckled and wiped her mouth with a napkin.
"Shuddup. I'm a lady, I hold my pinkie up and everything." She bragged as she leaned back. "So what're you huntin for?"
"Wanna get a buck. Jim's gonna pay me for half." He replied leaning back in his chair, his hands rubbing his belly, "Goddamn I ate too much."
Jameson laughed again and cleared the table. Daryl joined her at the sink and dried the dishes she washed. It was so domestic that it made Jameson smirk. She finally turned the faucet off and leaned her hip against the counter as he dried the last dish. Daryl was pretending like she wasn't staring at him but couldn't stop the twitch of his lips.
"What woman?" He growled with amused eyes. Jameson shrugged a shoulder and said, "You doin' dishes with me is adorable."
Daryl narrowed his eyes and playfully sneered, "Adorable?"
She nodded and stood on her toes, looping her arms around his neck. Daryl pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her lower back and kissed her. She felt his soft lips sucking and teasing hers. Daryl's tongue stroked hers while he growled.
"Darlin' it's gonna be hard leavin' ya." He rasped his scruffy jaw tickling her neck as he tucked his face against the curve of her shoulder. Jameson hummed and slid her hands underneath the front of his black thermal and wife beater feeling his warm skin. "Gonna be hard to watch you go."
"Mhm." Daryl grunted while sliding his hands into her back pockets, pulling her closer and kneading her ass. "Reckon might be the fastest hunt I done."
After laughing Jameson bit her bottom lip feeling blown away at having someone who would actually miss her. Daryl was tracing her face with his deep blue eyes, a softness glazing over.
"Is it bad that I'm kinda glad that Merle got arrested?" She asked with a furrowed brow. Daryl laughed gruffly and asked, "Why's that?"
"Because it made ya stick 'round." She replied while biting the corner of her lip. Daryl grunted and cut his eyes away. Jameson watched him think something through, the gears visibly turning. She looked down feeling as if she shouldn't have said it. His rough palm came up to cup her jaw, his thumb tilting her face up.
"Ain't stickin' 'round for Merle." He drawled his voice soft and rough, like worn leather. Jameson's breath hitched, a lump formed in her throat. Licking her lip nervously she breathed, "Daryl."
Raising an eyebrow as if questioning her statement. "Just you're amazing and you don't even know it."
He scoffed with a look of disbelief. "Y'crazy." Shaking her head Jameson stood on her toes, kissing him gently. "You're crazy for not knowin' it."
Daryl made an unconvinced grunt and started walking her backwards to the bedroom. She giggled while tripping over her feet and stumbled into the doorframe, Daryl's hand protectively cupped the back of Jameson's head. "Careful darlin', he rasped his eyes soft and amused. Rolling her eyes she turned around and tugged him into the bedroom, "Come on Dare, give me a proper goodbye."
Jameson woke at sun up as Daryl stumbled around the darkened bedroom. "Turn a light on 'fore ya kill yourself." Jameson spoke her voice thick with sleep. The light flicked on making her duck her head under the covers. She heard Daryl chuckling at her but the light turned off quickly.
"Bye darlin'. Be safe and make sure Red's followin' ya. Imma tell I'll be gone til tomorrow." Daryl drawled quietly crouched next to the bed. Jameson poked her head out and kissed him softly, "I will. You be safe too. If you get any bars send me a text when ya got time."
Daryl smiled and bobbed his head, "A'right. Love ya James."
"Love you Dare." She said sleepily smiling as he kissed her temple. Jameson watched him leave the bedroom and listened to the front door open, close and lock.
Jameson was sweeping up broken glass from under the pool table. The jukebox playing Motorhead's Fast and Loose, the fast guitar blaring through the bar's static filled speakers. The night had been long and the crowd difficult. It started with a group of college kids fighting over the pool tables and the night ended with two girls pulling each others hair out over some guy. Glasses were thrown and chairs toppled over. Jameson swept the last of the clear shards into the dustpan and then dumped it into the trashcan. Shoving the cleaning tools away Jameson went behind the bar and started doing the inventory Dale requested. She felt bad for Abe sitting outside in his truck and had offered him a seat inside but he declined. He felt it was better to keep watch outside rather than be surprised when they left. Jameson thought they were going a tad overboard but her father was an asshole so she conceded.
Kneeling down she counted bottles of liquor and then moved onto the cases of beer. After tallying everything she went to the back hallway to count the kegs. Jameson pulled the string of the bare bulb lighting the long hallway to the storage closet. Moving through the stacks slowly Jameson finished with a sigh. She added everything together and then checked her tally from the week before. They looked good but Dale would have the final look through. Jameson turned to walk back towards the bar when the bulb burnt out.
"Shit," she groaned fumbling her way to the storage closet, which housed the light bulbs. Once inside she flicked her zippo and shuffled through the shelves finding the regular bulbs. Tucking her clipboard under her arm and holding the lighter she stumbled through the hallway. Knocking her knee hard on a keg Jameson cursed up a storm. She reached the burnt out bulb and set everything down to remove it from the light fixture. A few twists and the new bulb was installed. Jameson pulled the string and jumped backwards as the hallway lit back up.
"Fuck," she shouted backing up from the figure standing with a twisted smirk.
"Hey there princess," Frank drawled his large frame blocking the doorway. Jameson swallowed thickly and took another stumbled step backwards. She watched her father take a step forward.
"Frank stay back ok." Jameson said firmly but a tremor was audible by the end of the sentence. Frank sneered maliciously, "Don' think so lil one. Been waitin' to get ya alone for 'while now. Ain't passin this up."
Jameson cleared her throat nervously and took a few more steps back hoping the storage door would hold long enough for Abraham to get curious about her delayed appearance through the back doors.
"Ain't no one comin' princess. Big Red ain't wakin' up anytime soon with that kinda knot on his head." Frank explained his eyes lively, the sharp green piercing into hers. Jameson ground her teeth and pushed a keg over and ran a few steps into the storage closet. She tried to slam the door shut but Frank's foot pushed into the doorframe preventing her from closing it. Jameson growled as she pushed as hard as she could but Frank had a hundred pounds on her. She could hear him chuckling as he shoved hard on the solid wood door. Jameson fell back into a shelf as the door flung inward. Frank towered over her and smirked, "Well it's jus' like ol' times. hiddin' in a closet like a lil coward."
Jameson's heart was hammering faster than she thought possible. Her chest throbbed as she panted quickly. Shifting her weight she tried to find a weapon on the shelves. Her calf twisted in her boot and she felt her back up knife. Keeping her eyes on Frank she tried to lift her leg to retrieve it but he charged her suddenly. His large hand wrapping around her neck as the other grabbed wrist, pinning it to the wall. Jameson struggled against his grip but his hand tightened on her throat causing her to choke.
"Now, now. I jus' wanna talk t'my lil girl. Ain't nothin' wrong with that." Frank drawled his crushing grasp on her wrist causing her to cringe. Loosening the suffocating grip on her neck Frank said lowly, "Ya got me sent away for a long spell princess. Ya got no idea what it's like 'n there. What kinda shit ya see 'n there, what ya gotta do."
She was gasping in short breaths her eyes watering at the flashbacks and the pain of the present. Jameson felt like that scared kid again, that girl who had no hope of ending the violence. No hope of defending herself. "Please," she gasped, "m'sorry."
Frank sneered and looked down at her shaking form. The glint in his eyes so familiar Jameson shivered violently.
"Don' know how Johnnie can stand t'look atcha." Frank growled in her face, the reek of cheap liquor and English Leather transporting Jameson to her childhood. The memories usually make her cower but at that moment in time they set her chest ablaze. For some reason her spine stiffened and her resolve hardened. The constant violence, the intimidation and verbal abuse. She couldn't take one more minute. Not another second of his vile words and vicious face.
Grinding her teeth, Jameson hissed, "Go fuck ya'self Frank."
Her father's lips curled into a sneer and his hand flexed around her neck. "Well, well, well. Guess ya think ya'll grown up huh?"
Jameson struggled against him causing his hand to release her wrist and join the other on her neck. The large rough fingers dug into her sensitive skin cutting off her air. Frank growled, "Thinkin I should jus' snap this lil neck like I shoulda done long ago. Hell shouda put ya in a sack in the river tha day ya mama brought ya home."
Jameson clawed at his hands but couldn't get a break. Lifting her leg she struggled to reach her blade but her vision went spotty. Her mouth opened and closed trying to get some kind of relief, some type of oxygen but she came up empty. Jameson stomped on his feet and tried to knee him in the balls.
Frank pulled her away from the wall and slammed her back against it, her head bouncing mercilessly. "Fuckin lil bitch." His lips twisted "Ain't getting' away princess." Without much time left before she lost consciousness Jameson raised her leg and scrambled for her blade. Her fingers tugging at the rounded switchblade handle. Finally the hidden weapon was in her hand but Frank noticed and slammed her against the wall again while crushing her throat harder. Jameson eyes blurred but she pushed the release and shoved it upwards into Frank's stomach. Blood poured over her hand and Frank sucked in a ragged breath.
"Fuckin' cunt," he shouted his hands tightening as he flung her into the metal shelves. She fell to the floor greedily sucking in air, her hands shakily touching her bruised neck. Frank stumbled backwards the front of his shirt and jeans slowly soaking up the blood pouring out of his stab wound. Jameson put a hand up as Frank kicked at her, his voice thundering out slurs and insults. Her arms took the brunt of his punishing hits but the force of them shoved her own arm into her face painfully.
Suddenly the kicks stopped and Frank was in the hallway. Jameson heard a struggle and shouting. Blinking rapidly Jameson tried to see what was happening but everything was blurry. Gasping for air still Jameson realized her throat wasn't working right, the wheezing rattle coming from her mouth was disconcerting. She heard someone calling her name but her head felt fuzzy and heavy. Soon the floor was rushing towards her and everything went black.
Daryl was hiking back into town at dawn. He carried the buck he took down the night before over his shoulders. As he reached the outer limits of town his phone beeped signaling his cell coverage returning. Daryl felt terrible not being able to contact Jameson the night before. He had said he'd do it if there was coverage and knew Jameson wouldn't be angry but he still felt bad. There was a sick feeling in his gut that he figured was guilt. Pausing a moment Daryl set the buck down and pulled his phone out.
You have 10 new voicemails
You have 18 new text messages
Daryl's' eyes bugged out of his head and he put the phone up to his ear listening to the first of his voicemails. He knees almost buckled as he heard Abraham's worried voice.
"Daryl its Abe. Ya gotta get to the hospital. Fuckin goddamnit. He got by me man. Mother fucker got her man. Shit get here. They got her back there and fuck if I know anything. Get here."
Daryl started running, leaving the buck without a backwards glance. He hit the button and listened to every voicemail as he jogged and stumbled through the woods. There were several more from Abe and others from Grimes and Carol. The text messages were from all three of them and two from Dale. He had no idea how they had his number but the fact that so many were there for her and he wasn't, was crushing him. Soon the edge of the woods appeared and he saw the old pick up. Jumping into the cab he peeled out onto the packed dirt road. He flew through the Georgia hills, the truck leaving a giant dust cloud behind.
His chest was heaving and his hands twisting the steering wheel as the fear peaked inside him. Everything they left on his voicemail was running through his head. Jameson was hurt, Frank hurt her. She was in surgery and they didn't know anything. It had been six hours since her attack. Frank was dead, stabbed by Jameson. Daryl took a turn going 60 and found the long straight shot to the hospital. He floored it and eventually squealed his tires as he shot into the parking lot. After jamming on his brakes as soon as his truck was between two lanes, Daryl jumped out. He raced into the hospital looking around wild eyed. He didn't see anyone he recognized and stomped over to the registration desk.
"I need to find a patient. Jameson O'Connell." He said hurriedly his hand braced on the counter as his finger drummed anxiously.
"Are you family?" the older lady asked her eyes sliding over his filthy clothing. He had dirt smudged on his cheek and scratches on his arms from the brush. Daryl watched her wrinkle her nose in disgust.
"Yeah. Where is she?" he demanded feeling completely over dealing with some glorified door greeter.
"How are you related?" she asked haughtily.
"Lis'en 'ere, tell me where my goddam wife is now or Imma come over this counter!" he shouted slamming his fist onto the counter. Daryl found it odd how easily it was for him to call her his wife but pushed that away for the moment. The older woman looked surprised and scared but typed her name into the computer.
"She's on the fourth floor, room 425."
Daryl turned and ran to the elevators pushing the button frantically. "Come on fucker," he growled under his breath, huffing out a breath as the doors slid open. He pushed the close door button and the fourth floor. Pacing like a wild animal in the tiny elevator while raking his hand through his hair, Daryl pushed his way through the doors as soon as they began opening. The long hallway was lined with chairs for family and medical carts filled with equipment. At the end of the hallway Daryl saw Abe and Dale. They were sitting in chairs outside a open door. Abe's head was bowed, his thick arms resting on his knees. Dale's legs were outstretched, crossed at the ankles. He looked as if he was sleeping. Daryl ran toward them, their heads both turning in his direction at the pounding of his boots. He heard a few nurses shushing him and another telling him he wasn't supposed to be visiting yet. Daryl didn't listen to any of them, only ran toward the woman he loved.
"She ok?" Daryl asked hurriedly, grabbing the doorframe and peering in. His chest constricted at the sight of Jameson hooked up to all kinds of machines, lights blinking and the whoosh of a ventilator.
"Oh god," he gasped stumbling into the room. His head was pounding and his lungs burning. Everything around him faded away as he took in the frightening sight of Jameson in a hospital bed looking so frail. Realizing he wasn't breathing Daryl sharply inhaled and looked back at Abe with blurry eyes. "Is she dyin'?"
Abraham shook his head and explained gruffly, "Nah Frank… he crushed her trachea some, they had to go in and fix some shit. She's gotta be on the vent for a couple days to rest it and let the swellin' down. They got her in a medical coma."
Daryl shook his head trying to stop the crushing pain that was inundating his body. Angrily scrubbing his fingers into his eyes Daryl paced a couple times, his hands tightening into white knuckled fists. His usual coping mechanism was to fight or punch something but he was trying to be a better man. He wasn't Merle or his dad. Jameson told Daryl he was a good man and he would do his best to live up to it. Abraham was watching him warily as Dale approached him slowly, "Daryl. She's going to be ok. She's a strong girl and the doctors are really optimistic."
"Optimistic!" Daryl hissed before snapping his mouth shut feeling guilty for possible disrupting her sleep. Moving to the side of the bed he gently touched her pale cheek. Lowering his face to hers Daryl placed his forehead against Jameson's, swallowing down a sob. His face fractured and he stood up turning toward the window, crossing his arms. He took some breaths and reeled in his panic before he faced the other men. After a tension filled few minutes Daryl looked back at Abraham who was still standing in the same spot.
"She killed 'im?" he asked gruffly, his voice hoarse and tight.
Abraham nodded and tipped his chin to her, "Strong girl. Fought hard then sliced his gut open. She's got a lump on her head, bruised back and ribs. Nothin' broke though."
Daryl nodded and cleared his throat, "How'd he get to her? Thought ya were with her?" Abraham scrubbed his face angrily, "I don' know how but he snuck up on me. Was sittin' in my truck, window down. Hit me with a brick."
Daryl clenched his teeth angrily, "Fucker. Ya ok?"
"Yeah. Head's made of cement. Never gonna forgive myself. Johnnie's probably gonna kill me so it won't bother me too long." Abraham snorted and leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. Daryl shook his head and drawled, "Coulda happened to anyone." Deep down though Daryl can't help but feel it never would've happened if he was there. He thought about if he hadn't gone hunting he would've been closing with Jameson. They would've been together and if her dad had shown up he would've stomped his fucking teeth in.
"When they wakin' 'er up?" he asked tiredly pulling a chair to the side of her bed. Daryl didn't look up as Abraham told him they would wake her tomorrow evening and see how she did off the machines. If all went well she would be fully aware in two days. Daryl bobbed his head and gently slid her hand into his. He didn't look up as they both told him they were going to get coffee and he didn't respond when they asked if he wanted anything. Daryl sat holding her hand, his forehead and sometimes his lips pressing to the warm skin on the back of her hand. He listened to the pump of the ventilator and the steady beeping of different devices hooked up to her.
"Come back to me darlin'." He whispered quietly his voice cracking.
There was beeping and murmurs surrounding Jameson. Her head felt like it was filled with cement and her throat was stiff. Flickering her eyes open she saw a darkened room filled with blinking lights and monitors. Jameson's eyes slid around the space and she realized it was a hospital room. Looking at the door she could see figures but not who they were. Jameson tried to turn her head but found it to be held in place. Groaning, she reached up towards her face to see what was going on. Her hands pulled at wires causing alarms to start ringing out. The people outside came rushing in at the sounds. Jameson groaned while trying to sit up but hands held her still.
"Stay darlin'" Daryl said causing Jameson to relax instantly. She released a breath and gazed at him, her eyes watering at the relief. " t's a'right Jameson. Gonna be fine. Be still." Jameson tried to nod but couldn't move and looked up at him curiously.
"Gotta keep the neck brace on for awhile darlin'. Ya throats hurt." He explained leaning over her, brushing hair off her forehead. "Gonna be fine though."
"Frank?" She croaked her throat raw and rough.
"No talkin' yet neither James." Daryl rasped his voice cracking before he cleared his throat,"Don't gotta worry 'bout Frank no more."
Raising an eyebrow Jameson silently asked for more information. He answered her roughly, "ya stuck him good. Bled out on the way to the hospital."
Blinking she tried to figure out how she felt about the information. On one hand she no longer would have to look over her shoulder, on the other she had killed her father. It seemed odd to be so relieved at someone's death.
"Ya did good sweetheart, go back to sleep." Daryl said softly, "I'll be 'ere when ya wake up." Jameson's eyes fluttered a few times before sleep flooded her body.
Daryl watched her fall back asleep. Her poor eyes were blood red from be strangled. Those vibrant green irises surrounded by broken blood vessels. The bruises around her throat were barely visible because of the neck brace but the ones that were, were deep purple and black. She had big welt and contusions on her arms from blocking his hits and kicks. Daryl swallowed thickly as the emotion of seeing her so injured began drowning him. He shot to his feet and stepped outside her room before letting out a deep breath. Daryl walked toward the small family waiting room. He had to make a call and didn't want to wake her up.
Johnnie had been informed of what happened to Jameosn and his father by Rick Grimes but he hadn't been updated since she woke. After waiting for ten minutes the crackle on the phone let him know Johnnie was on the line. The operator gave them the time limit start and clicked off the line.
"Daryl?" Johnnie asked hurriedly
"Yeah t's me. She's doin' ok. Woke up for a few minutes just a bit ago." Daryl relayed his voice rough and deep.
Johnnie was quiet a moment but Daryl heard him sniff and then clear his throat before saying hoarsely, "Glad you're there man. She 'member anything?"
"I think so but she can't talk right now. The throat injury's bad. She's breathin' on her own now though 'n the Doc says she's gonna be fine. That the damage ain't permanent."
Her brother let out a big breath and rasped, "That fuckin' asshole. Wish I could gut him."
"You an me both." Daryl exhaled heavily, "She's gonna be ok. Imma take care of 'er."
Johnnie grunted and thanked him, "You're a good man Daryl. Can't thank ya enough for takin' care of my sister. Kills me to be away from her but I'm glad she's out 'n she's got ya."
"Glad I got 'er. I... I love her." Daryl confessed his hand rubbing his neck nervously as his cheeks flush. He had only ever told Jameson the word and now he was confessing to her brother. 'Fuckin' pussy Darylina,' my inner Merle taunted.
Johnnie laughed gruffly, "I know. Could tell when ya visited, got your eyes on her all the time. Ya tell her yet?"
"Yeah." Daryl said quietly, feeling like some nervous teenager. He rolled his lip between his teeth and cut his eyes around the lobby to see if there were witnesses to his vulnerable state.
"Good. She deserves to be happy." Johnnie sighed sounding relieved.
Less than one minute left the operator screeched through the static.
Daryl cleared his throat before saying in a much more confident and assertive tone, "I'll keep ya up to date and when she can talk she'll call ya."
"Thanks man. Feel better knowin' she's got ya."
Daryl blew him off while shrugging, "S'nothin."
Johnnie scoffed, "Nah man. It's everything. She's everything and I trust ya with her."
Daryl shifted uncomfortably, he was so terrible with compliments. Jameson did it all the time and he was still uncomfortable with it. "Thanks Johnnie."
The operator counted down the last ten seconds making Daryl feel like the phone was going to explode in his hand. He now understood when Jameson complained about it.
"Tell her I love her and miss her." Johnnie choked out making Daryl swallowing hard.
"I will." He rasped roughly as the line clicked. Slumping in his chair he scrubbed his face before yawning widely. It had been a long couple days of watching Jameson sleep while drinking fucking horrible coffee. Daryl pushed himself up with a groan and headed back towards Jameson's room. He knew logically he didn't need to stay. Jameson wouldn't know if he went out and got food or slept but he couldn't pull himself away. Nothing could make him leave her side voluntarily.
Sliding into Jameson's dimly lit room he saw her resting peacefully. Daryl sat heavily and picked her tiny hand up his rough thumb smoothing over the light bruising mottled across it. Kissing it gently Daryl lay his temple against her hip, his arms folded beneath his cheek. Soon the exhaustion of the last couple days sucked him under.
Thanks for reading!