Chapter Eighteen

He has to run. Run faster, run harder, because he is gaining on him. And when he catches him—fuck, no—but his legs are moving in slow motion like they are dragging through quicksand and he can hear the echoes of that hateful voice closing in on him and God, he'd thought he could make it back home. He really had. But now he is standing right in front of him, like a vengeful spirit, and looking at the blood dripping down toned arms and angular collars and laughing even harder. It's only then that Daryl sees the blood too. Recognizes that it's still warm. Not his.

Fingers scratching, tears streaming, gotta get it off, gotta get it off, I've got to, I've got to—

"Shh," came a low rumble from behind Daryl's cradled head, and his whole body jerked as he came plummeting down from his nightmare back into reality. What Daryl belatedly recognized as arms tightened around his body, but still, it took him a few moments to remember where he was.

"Shane?" Daryl rasped, voice still cracking from sleep and fear.

"Mmm," Shane murmured, unwilling to collect himself just yet to face the day. "S'alright, Daryl. Go back to sleep."

Relief hit the younger boy so hard in the chest that it left him reeling. He spun in Shane's arms and propped himself on an elbow, needing to see for himself, needing to be sure.

The sudden shift jostled Shane into full consciousness, and he blinked up at Daryl's earnest face blearily.

"What's wrong?" he said lowly, "Y'okay?"

"Yeah," Daryl breathed, raking his eyes lazily over Shane's form in the morning light, and feeling unreasonably elated to be able to do so. "Yeah. I just…"

Despite the pause, Shane caught on, as he always did. "You thought I'd be gone."

Daryl bit his lip. "I…I'd deserve it, if you were."

Fingers traced their way up to the back of Daryl's neck, rubbed soothingly. "No, Daryl. You wouldn't. Ain't nothin' you can do that'd make me wanna leave, alright? And I ain't mad about what happened. Fuck, I'm just happy you're back, man. I'll get ya believin' that eventually."

Daryl nodded slowly and settled back down into the bed, pressed much more firmly into Shane's side than he would have been in weeks before. But he couldn't stand to lose contact, even for a second. It felt as if the briefest loss of Shane's touch might force the older boy to disappear entirely, dissipating the mirage.

It surprised Daryl much more than it should have when Shane closed the distance between them and pressed their lips together in a chaste kiss. But the surprise didn't stop him from melting into it, pulling Shane closer and sighing against his mouth like this was exactly what he'd wanted, he just hadn't known how to ask.

"Was it about your Dad, or…" Shane trailed off.

"Both," Daryl mumbled.

Shane carded his fingers through Daryl's hair. "Don't gotta worry 'bout neither of them, though. Not anymore. M'gonna take care of it."

The younger boy grimaced, "Yeah, guess we oughta—"

"Nah. You should go back to sleep. Like I said—I'll take care of it," Shane interrupted him, prompting Daryl to frown even deeper.

"I can help," Daryl argued, already sitting up in bed, but Shane pressed a hand gently to his shoulder to stop him.

"I know you can," Shane reasoned, "But I don't want you to. You saw enough of it last night. Just…lemme do this for you. I want to. Go back to sleep a while."

Daryl sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "Ain't gonna be able to sleep with you gone."

Shane cracked a smile at that, "Well then, I ain't askin' ya to. All I'm askin' is you stay here. And try not to get too wrapped up in your head while I'm gone."

The corner of Daryl's mouth twitched. "Ain't makin' any promises."

Shane grinned and kissed him again, before throwing on a shirt and shoes and heading out the door.

TWDTWDTWDTWD

When they piled into Daryl's truck later that morning, it still smelled vaguely of bleach. But the stench was far from overpowering, and even though Daryl tried not to look around too hard, even his vigilant eyes couldn't spot the smallest drop of blood from the night before.

They pulled in to the Grimes' driveway, and sat together staring at the front door. Shane didn't have to look at Daryl to see that he was nervous, and unwilling to make any move towards going inside.

"Dar—"

"What if they say no?" Daryl blurted out, looking to Shane with those same wide eyes as the night before.

"They won't."

"They might. I took off. They're supposed to be my guardians now, and I left without saying anything. It took fucking my life up to finally come back—"

"Doesn't matter how you got back. Or why. You're here, man. And they've been sayin' every day since you left that you'd be back soon. Every damn day. They're gonna be happy, Daryl. Like I was."

Daryl was silent for a beat. "But—"

"And if I'm wrong, if the Grimes suddenly became totally different people in the last couple weeks, well, then you'll just come stay with me. Easy," Shane said with finality. And Daryl couldn't really argue with that, so the pair slid slowly out of the truck and walked up to the front door.

Shane knocked once, then turned the knob that was always unlocked—largely for his own benefit.

"Hey guys!" he called into the kitchen, where he could hear the rest of the family clambering around as they put together a late breakfast. Daryl trailed behind him like a scolded puppy, hiding in Shane's shadow. "So…uh…I got a surprise, I guess…"

He stepped to the side, and three sets of eyes looked up to greet him just as Daryl was revealed.

"Been here since yesterday afternoon," Shane explained, "But me and him had some stuff to figure out, so…"

Shane could see how tense Daryl was holding himself, as if he expected to be screamed at or hit, or worse. And the first response to his sudden arrival was a scream, but hardly one of anger.

Mrs. Grimes shrieked and dropped the bowl she was cleaning right into the sink. The force of her colliding with Daryl's still-unsure form was nearly enough to knock him down. But the arms he'd once classified as dainty locked around his body like a vice, refusing to let go, or even grant him enough room to breathe or speak.

When she finally released him, and it was a long wait, Daryl was accosted next by Sheriff Grimes, grasping him by the shoulders before thinking twice about it, and leaning in to hug him firmly instead. Rick couldn't wait his turn. His arms swung in and took hold around both his father's and Daryl's bodies, hugging them tight.

Finally left to his own devices, Daryl stumbled back a step at the abrupt freedom. He looked between the three smiling faces in front of him, voice stuck in the back of his throat.

"I—" he tried to get out, "M'sorry I left."

The words left him in a rush, and the room was silent apart from his labored breathing. There was nothing Daryl Dixon hated more than being the center of attention. But it was clear enough that they were waiting for him to continue, and if he was going to plead his case, beg for forgiveness, then he best start off strong.

"Merle…" he began, then cut himself short. Merle ain't your keeper. You did this. "It was my fault. Shouldn't have left, I just—just thought—guess I thought I had to choose. And Merle's my family, ya know? For a long time he was all I had. When I was little, he used to protect me from my dad. Provoke him so that he'd get tired out beatin' him, and leave me be. But Merle ain't protected me in a while…and it ain't his fault. He got left alone with my dad longer, pretty much his whole life. But I thought I owed him that, I guess. To choose him. Go with him 'cuz he wanted me to." Daryl found it in him to look up. "I was wrong though. Y'all have been better to me than Merle has in years and I…m'sorry."

Daryl shifted his weight back and forth, crossed his arms protectively over his chest.

"We never would have made you choose, Daryl," Sheriff Grimes said slowly, "We wanted to help your brother, maybe get him back to the person he was when you were younger. But we never would have tried to keep him out of your life."

"Yeah, I know that. I mean, I know that now. Listened to the voicemails…" Daryl said quietly, "But if ya let me come back, it ain't gonna be a problem anymore, I swear. Merle's gone anyways…"

"Daryl…" Mrs. Grimes began, but the younger boy grew panicked, sensing rejection.

"I won't take off again," he promised, "You let me come back, and I won't go nowhere but school and home. Can help out around the house more. I—"

"Daryl," Mrs. Grimes finally interrupted him, "Sweetheart, why do you keep saying 'let'? You're family, honey. I thought that when we invited you to stay here, we made that clear. Leaving for a couple weeks doesn't change that."

Daryl looked from her to the rest of the family, seeming somewhat hopeful. "So, so I can—?"

"Daryl, of course!" Mrs. Grimes interrupted him again, and pulled him in for another perfectly stifling hug.

TWDTWDTWDTWD

After that, it was easy.

Too easy, by Daryl's standards. And the prospect of anything coming easy to a Dixon made Daryl's stomach churn unpleasantly. But there it was. The Grimes welcomed him back with open arms, never interrogating him about where'd he'd been or what he'd been doing there, but still checking painstakingly that he was unhurt.

His room was exactly the way he'd left it, aside from the fact that Mrs. Grimes had obviously been through several times to clean. The five of them spent an entire weekend crammed into the house together, sharing stories and laughing but mostly just enjoying the rightness of having everyone back where they belonged.

And maybe Daryl still walked on eggshells around them to some degree, apologized too often for things that were insignificant or simply not his fault, but the Grimes never lost their patience. The only instance of any lingering resentment from his absence happened that first night, when Rick pulled him aside while his parents occupied Shane's attention.

"Hey. I'm really glad you're back, man," Rick said quickly, "But look—I gotta say this—if you ever pull that shit on Shane again, I don't know what I'm gonna do. You can't, alright? You've got no idea what it did to him. I've never seen him like that. I don't care if y'all break up, or whatever. Ain't gonna take sides. If you didn't wanna be with him, that's fine. But you can't just leave, okay? Promise me that."

"I won't," Daryl whispered, "I…I get it now."

Rick nodded, "Good. 'Cuz Shane, he cares about you, ya know? I don't think you get how much…"

"I do," Daryl said softly, "He told me. And I…we're on the same page, me and him. So I ain't goin' anywhere. Not 'til he asks me to."

Rick's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but then he broke into a smile. "Finally said it out loud, huh?"

Daryl blushed noticeably, and grunted the affirmative.

But Rick just wrapped an arm around his shoulder and led him back towards the others, "Well it's about damn time."

TWDTWDTWDTWD

Shane and Daryl were both surprised by how often the Grimes left them to themselves over those first few days. They didn't comment on those extended periods when the pair would disappear to Daryl's room, and never judged the fact that neither could stand to be away from the other for more than a few minutes. Their family figured, so it seemed, that they were two hormonal teenage boys who had some catching up to do.

What they didn't know was that Daryl and Shane were hardly seeking out closed doors to sneak in a quickie. After their first night together, the prospect of sex hadn't come up once for the rest of the weekend. They instead spent their time alone pressed into each other's sides, letting their nerves be soothed by the other's presence.

And then it was Sunday night. And everyone was lounging in the living room, finally able to relax after so many days of uncertainty and worry. And no one was saying a word or giving any side-eye to the couple plastered to each other's sides in the corner. And Mr. and Mrs. Grimes were chatting away about taking their boys on a family vacation when school let out.

And then the doorbell rang.

It rang once, and then again, and then three times after. And there wasn't a person in the household who didn't know exactly who was standing on the other side of that door. Daryl blanched, and looked to Shane for guidance.

With his jaw set, and a nod of approval from the Sheriff, Shane had slipped out the front door and shut it behind him as quickly as he'd opened it.

Merle craned his neck as the door closed, trying to catch a glimpse. And in that time Shane observed that the man wasn't looking his best. There were deep, dark bags under his eyes, and his wrists were choppy and red as if he'd been scratching them compulsively. A Dixon family trait, so it seemed.

"He in there?" Merle asked him, without an ounce of the bite to his words that Shane expected.

"Yeah. He is."

"I need to talk to him."

Shane sighed. "He doesn't want to talk to you, Merle."

"Well then he can tell me that himself!" Merle snarled, growing more agitated by the second. He moved quickly, trying to bypass Shane and get to the door, but the jock held his ground.

"Man, what are you doing?" Shane hissed. "You had to know you wouldn't be welcome here."

"He's my brother," Merle insisted, chest puffed out.

"Merle..."

"No! I ain't gonna sit back and watch you fuck with him. Turn him into somethin' he ain't. You need to stay the hell away from him."

"You need to stay away from him," Shane countered, "You really think he's better off with you? After what happened?"

"Better with me than turnin' into some kinda law-lovin' faggot!" Merle spat. "I ain't leavin' unless you're leavin' too."

"That's not gonna happen, man. I wouldn't do that to him."

Merle's voice dropped lower. "I'll tell him, ya know. Tell him all about you getting our dad arrested. How's he gonna feel 'bout you then?"

Shane scrubbed a hand over his face. "Honestly? I'm pretty damn sure that if you told him, he'd still stay with me. 'Cuz you see, he knows what you are, now, Merle. He's seen it. But I also know that you are not gonna tell him 'bout that. 'Cuz if you do, you're gonna find yourself in jail as an accessory to murder. And none of us want that now, do we?"

Merle growled under his breath and stalked in place. "No. No, no, fuck all that. He's my brother! I ain't gonna let you hurt him!"

Shane stopped and stared at him. "You seriously think I could do any more damage than your dad's already done?"

Merle glared at him hard, a beat too long. And slowly, Shane finally put two and two together. Merle didn't know. He hadn't a fuckin' clue of what their father had been doing to Daryl since the day Merle first took off.

And oh, Shane wanted to tell him. He wanted to throw it in that asshole's face, shove it down his throat 'til the guilt choked him dead.

Instead, Shane paced back and forth across the yard while Merle started to ramble on about how Shane didn't know them and didn't know where they came from. When he stopped, Merle did too.

And Shane said to him, "Look man, I don't like you. But if you think that you can stick around town and be reliable for once, not get mixed up in the wrong shit, and be there for your brother, then by all means: prove me wrong. But if you're even the least bit doubtful about that, you've got to leave. Leave, and don't fuckin' come back this time. It's enough. You get me? It's enough."

Merle watched him for a moment, and Shane could see the cogs turning in his mind. His eye twitched, and Shane knew he was walking the thin line between reluctant acceptance and outright denial. And Shane found himself rooting for Merle Dixon, for the first time in his life.

You know I'm right. Just do the right thing for once.

There was an ominous, echoing thud from outside, as Merle threw Shane's body into the side of the house.

Daryl was on his feet in a heartbeat, and burst through the door to find Merle pinning Shane to the white paneling of the house. He was holding the younger boy in place by his throat, while he delivered blow after blow to his stomach. And Shane wasn't moving, but it wasn't because he was hurt. No, it was clear as soon as Daryl spotted them that Shane was downright refusing to fight back.

He would have stopped to kiss Shane for it, if the situation weren't so dire.

Daryl shoved himself in between the brawling pair, and managed to knock Merle back by jabbing him in the ribs with his elbow.

"What the fuck are you doin'?" Daryl yelled in his brother's face, probably only the second time in his life he'd screamed at Merle. But god did this situation merit it.

Merle stood and panted, eyes on Shane instead of Daryl.

Daryl shoved him again, two-handed and hard. "You're gonna hurt one of the only people whose ever given two shits about me? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

His brother didn't answer, just stared ahead, looking angry and frustrated but mostly lost.

"You gotta leave, Merle," Daryl finally rasped, tucking his hands into his armpits. "Get outta town. Hell, get outta Georgia. But you gotta leave. 'Cuz I can't..." he sighed, "I can't fuck this up."

Daryl looked to Shane and gave him a nearly imperceptible nod before slowly walking back inside.

Shane righted his shirt and held Merle's eye. "You could fix things with him, if you wanted to."

Merle spat at the ground. "You just heard him," he scoffed.

"Yeah, I heard him," Shane said. "He's pissed, yeah. But mostly he's scared, 'cuz he doesn't know what to expect from you. But you could change that. Accepting that the Grimes are his family now too would be a start. Stayin' out of trouble and keeping clean would be even better."

Merle kicked at the dirt and shoved his hands in his pockets, but remained silent.

So Shane continued, "But I'll tell you right now, man—if you don't think you can do it, if you aren't ready...then just leave. Don't make him think things could be alright then take it away. If you can't be there for him...then don't be. Go. And I'll take it from here. 'Cuz man, you call him your brother, but you sure as hell don't act like it."

Merle gnawed at the inside of his cheek, then caught Shane's gaze in the most sober expression the younger had seen on him to date.

"I love my brother," Merle said, and Shane knew he meant it. He turned to go back inside.

"Then prove it," he called behind him, before shutting the door.

TWDTWDTWDTWD

Daryl was waiting for Shane in his room.

"He gone?" were the first words out of his mouth.

"For tonight," Shane replied.

Then quite suddenly, Shane was pinned to the wall by the second Dixon this evening. But this time, he was far from complacent. Shane fisted his hands in the back of Daryl's shirt and thrust his tongue into the other boy's mouth. With a buck of his hips, he was walking them both backwards, throwing Daryl onto the bed then tugging off his jeans while Daryl ripped away his shirt.

With Daryl bare and waiting, Shane took a moment to drink him in, grinning when the archer flushed at the attention. He skimmed out of his own clothes hastily, then leaned down and sucked one of Daryl's nipples into his mouth, rolling it carefully between his teeth.

Daryl arched up off the bed with a surprised-sounding moan, and Shane had to release him to swallow a laugh.

"Still so sensitive," Shane whispered, grinning. "Fuck, that never gets old."

Cheeks reddening, Daryl turned his face to the side to avoid Shane's gaze.

"Stop it," he muttered under his breath, but Shane's smile only grew wider.

"Never," he said with a laugh, before stretching his lips wide and swallowing Daryl down to the hilt.

"Fuck," Daryl whimpered, and one hand flew to tangle in Shane's dark hair. "Fuck, fuck Shane..."

Shane's mouth was warm and wet, travelling up and down Daryl's cock so slowly that the latter thought he might die. He was about to beg, the words just on the tip of his tongue, when Shane released him and murmured, "Flip over for me."

Shakily, Daryl complied. He turned onto his hands and knees and looked back at Shane over his shoulder without any hesitance, but eyes filled with a keen, lustful anticipation.

Shane traced the rim and watched Daryl shiver.

"You hurting at all?" Shane asked him, playful, but also needing that negative response.

"No," Daryl whispered, and Shane pressed a little harder.

"You sure?" Shane asked him, "Not sore?"

"Nuh-uh," Daryl grunted, pressing back. Shane slicked up a finger and pressed inside. He grazed over Daryl's prostate with the lightest of pressure, watching the shudder ripple down the younger boy's back.

"Just because we did it once, don't mean I'm expecting it now," Shane felt the urge to say, "Don't ever have to do it again, if you don't wanna."

Shane rubbed gentle circles across that bundle of nerves, and Daryl moaned into the sheets. When he looked back at Shane, his eyes were glazed over, and a deep, dark blue.

"Want it, Shane," Daryl said lowly, "Want you."

That earned Daryl a particularly hard thrust, and he knew he was leaking against the bedspread.

"You want me, huh? Show me. Show me how you want me," Shane asked breathlessly, two fingers hooked inside Daryl and scissoring slowly.

"Shane, Shane," Daryl whimpered, writhing in place. "Want you, w-want—c'mon."

"Show me how you want it," Shane demanded again. "Put me where you want me, Daryl. You know I want it too."

With a groan, Daryl pulled away from him and rolled onto his back. He looked up at Shane expectantly, and the older boy licked his lips.

"Like this, huh? That's how you want me to fuck you?"

Shane fell onto his knees between Daryl's legs and stroked leisurely over his length. It was no small thing for Daryl to hand him control like this, and Shane didn't want to rush.

Daryl was not at all on the same page. He wrapped his legs around Shane's hips and forced the older boy closer, grabbed Shane by his neck and smacked their lips together in a sloppy kiss.

"C'mon," Daryl gasped when they broke apart, "C'mon, Shane. Said I want it."

"Look at you getting all greedy," Shane teased, lifting Daryl's hips so they were aligned, and the boy was only half touching the bed. He slid inside slow as molasses, and Daryl threw his head back in a moan.

"Fuck. Yes."

Shane bottomed out and took hold of Daryl's shoulder, chest constricting when he realized he had control of Daryl's entire body. He pulled back until just the tip remained in Daryl's tight body, then thrust roughly back inside.

"Shane!" Daryl cried, and his cock twitched and leaked against his navel. One hand shot out to grip Shane by his thigh, while the other twisted into the sheets in a desperate attempt to hold onto his sanity.

But Shane was teasing him. He refused to build a pace, taking his damn time rocking in and out and watching Daryl squirm. He moaned and tried to buck against Shane, but the jock held him steady.

"Shane, Shane, c'mon. Please," Daryl begged. Shane kissed him hard.

"Tell me what you want," Shane demanded breathlessly. "Fuck, Daryl. You feel so good. Fuckin' love you. God, Daryl."

Big blue eyes looked up at him. "Want...want you to fuck me hard, Shane. Show me...fuck, show me you want me too."

Shane delivered. He fucked into Daryl at a pace that started off slow and toe-curling, but quickly became brutal, echoing slaps of skin barely overshadowed by Daryl's incessant moaning.

Daryl wanted to hold out longer. But every time Shane surged against him, he managed to hit his prostate just right. And Shane was panting as he looked down at him, pupils blown wide like this was the hottest thing he'd ever seen.

Before Daryl knew what was happening, and before Shane had gotten the chance to wrap his fist around Daryl's throbbing length, the younger boy was convulsing in orgasm. His body shook as his cock erupted untouched, come streaking across his chest while Shane watched and moaned.

Two more thrusts and Shane was right behind him. He plowed in deep, and Daryl could feel his cock pulse as he came. They collapsed into a sticky heap, trembling with the aftershocks.

"That was..." Daryl eventually rasped.

"Fucking amazing," Shane finished for him, chuckling under his breath. "Jesus. Gonna make you come like that all the time."

Daryl blushed hotly, then recovered. "Promise?" he asked with a twitch of his lip.

Shane smiled. "Hell yeah." He pulled Daryl closer and grazed his fingers up and down the younger boy's back. "M'ask you somethin'. Merle—he don't know about these, does he?"

Daryl let out a long, slow breath. "No."

Shane nodded. "Didn't say anything. Wanted to, but I didn't."

Daryl answered with his eyes closed. "Can't tell him."

"Why?"

"'Cuz...'cuz I think he thinks he protected me. Saved me from our dad. Tellin' him that asshole was on me as soon as he left...I can't do that to him. S'better like this. With him thinkin' he did somethin' right, for a change."

"Mmm," Shane hummed noncommittally, pressing his face into Daryl's hair.

"He was a good brother, when he was around," Daryl continued quietly, "Kept me fed. Made sure I had what I needed for school. Even stole books from the library for me, when I was real little. Don't think I ever had any good memories that didn't have Merle in him...well, before you I guess." Daryl added that last part in a whisper, hiding his face in Shane's chest.

"He loves you," Shane murmured, "We'll figure it out. We always do."

Daryl gnawed at his lip, then muttered, "Merle was the only person who ever said that to me, before you."

Shane pressed a lingering kiss to Daryl's temple. "Then at least me and him got something in common. 'Cuz you're pretty damn easy to love."

Daryl snorted and burrowed further under the blankets, murmuring his affectionate reply into Shane's side.