It was hell, she decided when they finally stopped for the night in the middle of nowhere. The walking had not been an issue as she was used to covering longer distances, but the assholes who called themselves the marauders had made it infernal.
They were like children, sick perverted children who saw her as a shiny new toy. They had spent a couple of hours trying to touch her ass when they were all walking, and she had found herself walking closer and closer to Daryl to try to make them stop. She had gotten so close she had bumped into his back and he had turned around, surprised. At the exact same time, one of the jerks had put his hand forward to grab her ass, and Daryl had moved her out of the way so that he could throw a punch in the asshole's face. Joe had been forced to intervene and remind his perverted flock that claimed property didn't get their ass grabbed.
If that had been the only issue, though… The catcalls and lewd comments had been a running commentary throughout the day, and she had felt actually relieved to have three minutes of silence when they thought walkers were near and they finally shut their mouths as they got ready to fight. Daryl had once again tried to protect her by putting her behind him but it had only showed them both how ineffective this would be and how much danger they would be in if there were indeed walkers around. It had turned out that it was a walker, but a loner and he had been disposed of very quickly before they started walking again.
She had been an effective survivor for so long, dealing with walkers on her own, staying away from herds yet killing with the loners she encountered, she had almost stopped fearing them. However, finding herself behind Daryl with her hands tied while there could be walkers around was a brutal reminder of the real danger they represented. For a second, she wondered if her baby had felt the way she had, so useless and afraid, needing someone to take care of her. Kids like Carl had grown up into the Apocalypse but her daughter never had the opportunity. She had pushed those thoughts as far away as possible from her mind. She couldn't allow herself to get emotional, but Daryl seemed to have noticed, if she had read the look he had given her right. Weirdly, she was okay with him knowing she was not made of steel.
This claimed thing was the gift that kept on giving, in the worst possible way. Daryl was being a dick to her, treating her like his property. He had slapped her ass more times than she could count, often watching a marauder in the eye, as if to remind the loser that she was his and only his. She was smart, she knew why he was doing this. When they had decided to play this charade, they hadn't planned how far it would need to go. A couple of hours into it, Joe had been looking at them funny, even though she had been on her best behavior, and it had appeared to the both of them that a rough kiss and a hurt figure were not enough. Daryl had to treat her like she was not a she, but an it, something for him to use and abuse. He called her "woman", and when the others asked him for her name, he had said he didn't know it. He had made a joke about calling her a dirty slut when heh had had his way with her, and she wished she had been shocked, but things were unreal no matter which way you chose to look at them. Daryl had been prompted by a marauder who kept on taunting him about how their fucking had gone if she had kept so silent, and that had been when Daryl had called her a slut.
It had made her feel empty, not because she believed a word he had said, she had been there and had known what they had done and hadn't done, but for some reason the realization hadn't doomed on them yet that their relationship would be the only thing people would be interested in, in the most perverted ways. Len had asked if Daryl had enjoyed fucking her ass, the younger one had asked about fisting and blowjobs. There had been some questions that were bordering on bestiality even though they were about two humans. It was just… sex all the time. If the Marauders couldn't fuck her, they wanted to know all the details.
Daryl wasn't keen on telling, and he kept mum as much as he could but in turn he had to be rough with her, and he often pulled on the rope holding her so roughly she would almost fall. He patted her ass, her breasts, and her face. When Matthew had talked about blowjobs, Daryl had made a show of playing with her mouth, forcing a finger in for her to suck on and she had tried to stop him, refusing to comply which had made the assholes say things about his needing to tame her once and for all.
It felt dirty, for the both of them. When the others weren't looking like when they were sharing fantasies about what they would have done to her, there had been some looks Daryl had thrown her, and she had read how much he despised the part he was playing. She saw how much he hated himself for it, and she had found herself trying to convey that though it was not okay, she got it. She had a feeling he had read that right, but he had seemed to have a hard time coming to terms with her acceptance.
It was not acceptance, in no way, but they were selling the Marauders' fantasy, and there were things they had to do or to suffer through that made them both want to hurl. They couldn't speak, had no privacy. It was tough. She could tell that Daryl hated everything he did, but he was a good actor and if she hadn't known better, hadn't read it in his eyes, she would have believed he was as perverted as the group they were hanging around with. There was no respite, but Carol longed for a minute or two, maybe just a bunch of couple of seconds even.
She wanted to ask Daryl if they had a place they were going, or if they were just randomly roaming the infected country. She wondered many things, like did they know that if one of them died, he would come back? Without the trip to the CDC, they hadn't had a clue. However, when it came to the marauders and the way they behaved, being nothing else than a herd themselves in so many ways, she suspected they must have seen people coming back to life after a clean killing.
She thought with nostalgia about her old family but forced herself to shut down those feelings. She was used to thinking about Sophia, Lilah and the group every day, but around those people, she didn't want to think about them. It made her too vulnerable. She was fighting every display Daryl put on, though he always seemed to quite often get the upper hand, and she needed to focus on it. Sophia had no place in what was happening. Her poor little lamb, slaughtered as she had been.
She stopped that line of thinking right away, and once again, she realized that Daryl had been watching her. He seemed to wonder, to want to ask something but they just couldn't talk, didn't have that luxury. She pushed Sophia as far away as possible from her mind. This was too rough. She was barely done dealing with the groping that had taken place in the first place to appease Joe. It had brought back so many memories of a life lived and lost, for good but also for worse. Around those pigs, those assholes, she needed to keep her head on, and focus on dealing with the curveballs Daryl had to keep throwing at her to make it look like he was the boss of her. Like he owned her, she thought with a bad taste in her mouth. She had vowed never to let anyone claim ownership over her, and now she had to go along with that…. The few happy memories she had of time spent with Sophia, Carl, Judith and even the grown-ups just had to be kept down. She couldn't let herself look like she found comfort in anything. She had to make them believe she was a victim, again.
Her wrists were hurting but she didn't suffer from chaffing, Daryl having made sure to tie the rope over some clothes. He didn't have to, she thought, but he had taken into consideration her wellbeing. It seemed almost incongruous in the world they were in but it did take her memory back to the quarry and how he hunted to feed them all—another unnecessary act that indicated the kind of person he truly was at his heart.
Night started to fall and Joe had called for a halt. The Marauders had gone into automatic mode, setting wires with empty cans all around the space they had decided would be theirs for the night. They may have been assholes but they were organized ones, which surprised her but also rocked her with relief.
Having set a mat on the ground, Daryl dropped their belongings beside it. He helped her remove the bag she was carrying, and fished a can for dinner out of it. There would be no fire Joe had decided so Daryl had picked a can of food which could be eaten straight out of the tin.
They sat down, and he gave her a spoon, as they both dug in. This of course prompted comments, and Dan asked Daryl why he trusted her with a spoon.
"Mind you own business," was all the hunter said.
She supposed a spoon could be used as a weapon, if the shows she had seen about prison were any indication, but she didn't see the point of killing Daryl and leaving herself at the mercy of those pigs.
When they were done, the spoons being washed with water summarily, Daryl grabbed his crossbow and said:
"Don't fucking touch my gear. I'll kill you if anything is missing. I'll know."
"Oh, the lovebirds are leaving us to enjoy a romp in the sack," Matthew said.
Daryl didn't answer, and grabbed Carol, forcing her to come with him.
They didn't go far but her mind was spinning. The precautions he had taken that morning, the marks he had left, hell, even the conquering kiss from before, she had really thought she was safe with him.
She felt hurt by what he seemed about to do, and she didn't understand why. She blamed it on her gut being wrong about him.
They walked for just a minute or two, and she used every second of it to prepare herself to fight him with everything she had. She couldn't let herself submit to this degradation, to this violence, not again. She'd worked herself up, memories of Ed's filthy hands on her and the acts she was forced to submit to, when Daryl finally turned, his mouth open as if ready to speak now they'd passed hearing range.
He saw the look in her eyes and visibly shrunk away from her. "Fuck no!" he spat out. "Bathroom break."
Those four words filled with her with joy and shattered the fear that had been building. Daryl loosened the knot around her wrist, and gave her more rope so that she could hide behind a bush yet still be his prisoner.
"Get down to business," he told her, his voice rough and impatient. "I've needed to take a piss since midday."
And so, with a rope pulled taut between them, they managed to respect each other's privacy as the got down to business. The sounds of their reality could be heard but she just felt relieved she didn't have to crouch and squat in front of him.
When they were done and she returned to his side, he shortened the rope and retied the knot. She wanted to thank him but the words wouldn't come out.
He got a bottle of water out of nowhere, and made a show of putting it above her hands, ready to pour some. She nodded and he tipped some over her hands, watching as she washed up.
"Figured you'd want that", he said before repeating the process for himself. He surprised her again, that he'd give two shits about hygiene with the men he travelled with.
They were dirty and looked their worst but he had been right. While she had given up most of the comforts they used to have, hygiene was still high on her list of things.
He started to lead her back to the campsite and she hesitated, worry pricking at her skin: "No marking like this morning?"
"We weren't gone long enough for them to believe we did anything. Maybe they could but I'm not that guy." The disgust in his voice shocked her and Carol filed it away in the file of the many things Daryl Dixon did that unsettled her original impression of him.
He looked around, and found some herbs. He came up to her, and showed her some leaves.
"Rub them on your face, on your lips. It'll hurt, but it'll make it look like… Like this morning happened again,' he uttered reluctantly.
She just kept on being surprised. Of course he knew things about nature, being a hunter. She was struck by how much she didn't know him, yet how much she found herself trusting him. She took the leaves, and rubbed the leaf with the poisonous side on her face as he told her. She rubbed some down on her chest, where it could be seen, no matter how uncomfortable it was.
He had not raped her, and he never would, but they still had to make it look like they had. She allowed herself ten seconds of wondering about what her life had become. She crouched and got some dead leaves and small branches. She tried to put some in her hair, with some success, but catching her drift, Daryl came to the rescue and helped her get her looking like she had planned.
"I don't want to scratch you," she found herself saying, surprised yet certain.
She would need to hurt him to make it look like she had fought back. He looked at her, as if he was weighing everything she was implying and trying to come with a solution. He got closer, and untied her hands just quickly enough for him to put them behind her back and remake the knot. He pulled on her shirt, to make it messy, and she fell to the ground, on her back, thrashing around to get dirt on her back. Daryl worked with his clothing to make it unkempt.
As they worked together to create another moment in this charade, they shared a look and though it was dark, she would have sworn she could read the sorrow in his eyes.
"We're in this shit together," she told him.
He didn't say anything, not that she expected him to but there was a slight nod. He tugged on her shirt to show a bit more cleavage and she would have sworn he was blushing. He helped rub some more of that hers he had found on the skin that was no showing, and though she had no mirror, she instinctively knew how she must have looked: used and abused.
Just as they were about to be within earshot of the marauders, he stopped, his expression twisted up as he appealed for her to understand his actions.
"This morning… Had no choice."
She nodded. It was not an apology but the sentiment counted, enough for her to feel a nervous yet gentle smile flutter at her lips.
"I'll keep touching you. I'll try to take you by surprise every time but I ain't that much an asshole. Every night, we can talk like this. If something goes too far, you can bring it up and I'll try something different."
She could only nod. It was more than she could hope. Oh, he hated what he was doing to her, no doubt, but she also knew he didn't know her well enough period. He was being considerate but practical. He was keeping her safe, no matter what it meant, and in doing so he was also keeping himself safe.
"You're mine," he said. "We never had a woman before. They want you just because you're a chick. I'm tryin' but…"
"I won't let you down."
She didn't need to details the way she could help, as he seemed to have noticed, and she hoped he would found more herbs the next day to keep the charade up. They would have to discuss it when doing their business, but no matter how much she hated it, she would be his thing. She would fight and not let him get away with everything, or anything, but she would let him win. She would whimper, cry, and beg. She would, for herself but also for him.
When they made their way through the walls of strings, the marauders started howling with laughter, asking Daryl if he had given it to her good and other lewd comments. He took his time to stop and watch her, as if realizing for the first time her hands were in her back, then made a show out of untying her just to tie her hands back in front of her. They were painting such a picture, even their daft companions couldn't miss it. There were comments about taking advantage of the next time her hands were tied in her back to explore "her other assets" one of the marauders said thinking he was smooth.
The expressions on their faces, their expectation of a captured woman being shown no mercy turned her stomach and while she felt strength believing she was safe with Daryl, she knew that safety was precarious and dependent on Joe's upholding of his claim. If that were all to go to hell, then probably so would she.
"Enough," Joe said in a low voice.
"Got some, bitch are made for one thing, right?" Daryl concluded.
The others howled with laughter and were already trying to imagine what they had done. Joe nodded and went back to what he was doing. So far so good, Carol thought, but she wondered how long Daryl could keep the wolves off their back.
The other marauders either hadn't heard Daryl's comment or decided to ignore it as they started grilling him with many questions, the less lewd being about the carpet matching the drapes. Years with Ed and his asshole friends usually made her immune to those comments but it had been going on all fucking day long and she was ready to snap. Daryl seemed to understand it and made the make their way to their mat immediately.
They sat there just a few feet away from the others but the distance was soothing. She wondered what was next. He gestured for her to lie down, and she did so, turning her back to the marauders. Daryl laid down in front of her which surprised her until he looked over her shoulder to their companions and it all made sense.
"Can you turn?"
She did, facing the others though it was against her instinct. On the other hand, sleeping face to face with Daryl would be far too intimate. He was pressed against her back and his arms were around her as she held her hands in front of her. She was suddenly extremely aware of the darkness settling in, and his smell filled her nose. It had been so long since she had slept in the arms of a man, and though this was not a romantic setting, for the first time in years, she felt good, maybe safe even.
It only lasted for a second of course, as Joe started a walk around and pointedly looked at them. She tapped into her past, as hard as it was, and she forced herself to lo appear to be slightly shaking and looking for an exit. Daryl was only surprised for a second and pretended to be caressing her ass as he looked over to Joe.
The leader seemed happy with what he had seen, but then Carol wondered how much of what he showed was true. Joe went to his own mat away, and Matthew took the first watch, away from them. They waited some time, then relaxed, though Daryl's hands stayed on her bottom.
She knew from the game they were playing that this was meant to be possessive, as people would see her back first and his hands on his "property" first. However, they did relax, for a second.
This was a feeling she had almost forgotten all about, but there it was. She found herself praying silently for her instinct to be right and not be simply letting the feel of a man fool her, even if so far he had been gentle even when he had to be rough with her as well as respectful when the days were ending. They were surrounded by dangerous men, and she was in no position to defend herself, she was afraid as fuck but she also knew that his man would always be there for her.
It had been a day, but with every decision he had made, those that are been rough on hers and those she had played along with, it had all been about saving her. Without him, she had no doubt she would have been raped every way possible then killed. Those assholes probably wouldn't have had the decency to kill her properly, they would have let her turn and have a good laugh at her. Daryl was risking everything, for someone he didn't know. She was trusting someone she barely knew with her life, and had no second thoughts about it. It was not a chance he had taken on her when he had claimed her, he had turned his life upside down with one word and had done everything and more to keep her alive. A fucking decent man he was for sure, but it was even beyond decency. He left her speechless. He would do everything for them to make it out alive, she knew it, and she hoped she'd be able to help him do so.
She had always relied on her instincts since being rid of Ed, and she hoped that she was right to do so again, as she closed her eyes, surrounded by Daryl, in such a hostile environment. It seemed crazy for him to make her feel safe, but the feeling was there. This was a leap of faith, and while she was not ready to jump, the urge to trust him was appealing.
Len moved his mat somewhere near theirs, and she hated knowing he was somewhere she couldn't see. However, she saw the look in Daryl's eyes when he saw their new neighbor, and she had a feeling he would be sleeping with one eye open, at all time, to protect them both. The others were already sleeping so an ambush seemed unlikely but the others were a pack. For now, they thought Daryl had a perfect hold on her. It would be a day to day struggle.
She fell asleep in the blink of an eye, exhausted.