Chapter Twenty-Four
"What?" Rick asked, "What do you mean, someone was in our camp?"
"He means someone came through here in the middle of the night. Traipsed 'round our camp and left his tracks all over the damn place," Merle said grimly.
"You're sure?" Shane questioned, "I mean, there's four of us. That's a lot of prints to keep track of…"
"He was wearing boots with spurs on the back," Daryl said, pointing to the foot of their tent where two deep indentations were situated side by side. "Rained the night before last. Ground was still soft. He sunk right in."
Rick walked up to the set up prints Daryl was pointing towards and knelt down, scrutinizing them closely.
"How come these are so much deeper than the others?" Rick asked, directing his question back towards the Dixon brothers.
They shared a look again, and Shane immediately knew the answer.
"The longer he stood there, the deeper he sunk," Shane said, looking back at Daryl for confirmation. The younger teen nodded.
"Shit," Rick hissed, pacing now. "Shit. Shit. We need to pack up and leave."
"No, we don't-" Merle immediately interrupted.
But Rick cut him off, "No, fuck that! You're telling me some psychopath was standing outside our tent last night for what- thirty minutes, an hour? And you want to stay?"
"It was probably just some drunk asshole who's got a cabin near here stumbling onto our camp. No harm no foul," Merle tried to reason with him.
"Yeah? And how long would he have had to stand out there to make footprints that deep?" Rick countered.
"To be fair, he didn't actually do anything to us," Daryl finally piped up, "Showed up, stood there, then left. But if we go home now, and tell the Sheriff about this...he's gonna have the whole goddamn force out here lookin' for someone who might just be some backwoods shiner minding his own business."
"But what if he's not?" Rick pressed, "What if this guy's dangerous?"
"If he was lookin' to hurt us, last night woulda been a damn good opportunity to do so," Shane pointed out.
"What kind of rational explanation could there be for someone standing outside our tent for that long in the middle of the fucking night out in bumfuck nowhere?!" Rick shouted.
"We ain't saying the guy's normal," Daryl replied calmly, "Seems pretty damn unhinged, from where I'm standing. But we go back now, just 'cuz some footprints spooked us, and your folks are never letting us out on our own again. Not to go camping, not for nothing."
"We're moving on today, anyways," Merle agreed, "Chances this asshole can track worth a damn are pretty low. By sundown tonight, we'll have twenty miles between us."
Rick still look frightened, but he hung his head in resignation.
"Fine," he muttered sullenly, "Let's leave already, then."
TWDTWDTWDTWD
"So what's prison like?" Rick asked all too suddenly, a good four hours into their hike.
Judging by the way Merle's shoulder's went taut as a two by four, Shane figured that was the wrong question to ask, and especially not now.
"The fuck do you think it was like, kid?" Merle growled, not bothering to turn and acknowledge Rick as they continued on.
"I don't know, that's why I asked," Rick replied innocently. But not entirely innocent, as Shane noted. Rick knew good and well that he was pressing Merle's buttons.
They continued on in tense silence for about ninety seconds before Rick decided to open his mouth again.
"Were you in a gang? I heard you need to be in a gang, to survive in prison."
"Heard right."
"So who'd you line up with?"
"Take a look at my skin, boy. Who do you think?" Merle spat.
"White power, then?" Rick followed up, unperturbed by Merle's sour attitude.
"Jesus H. Christ," Merle grumbled, just as Daryl muttered, "For fuck's sake," at his adoptive brother's antics. The younger Dixon opted to hang back a few yards, walking with Shane instead and ignoring their continuing argument.
Shane brushed his hand across the small of Daryl's back, waited for the boy to meet his eyes.
"You worried?" Shane asked, pointedly, because he trusted the other boy's judgment on this.
Daryl considered lying, briefly. Putting Shane's mind at ease. But he equally understood that there was no chance the older boy wouldn't see right through his charade.
"Heard somethin' last night," Daryl murmured instead, "Can't be sure… but before we fell asleep, thought I heard someone screaming."
Shane's eyes flicked to his, big and brown and worried. "Someone, not something? Sometimes the animals out here sound like people, and at night-"
"Someone," Daryl confirmed.
Shane appraised him. "How can you be sure?"
"'Cuz...fuck, I'm pretty sure they were screaming a word. Ain't no animal that can do that."
Shane rubbed his hand over the back of his head. "What word?"
"Help," Daryl whispered, afraid to turn his head towards Shane for a reaction.
"Jesus, Daryl. Why the hell didn't you say anything?"
"Too much open space out here," Daryl sighed, "Big ass cliffs everywhere. Trees. Even if I was sure, fuckin' positive that what I heard was someone screaming for help, there wasn't a chance we'd have been able to find them. Woulda run off into those woods trippin' over own feet, lost sight of each other. Whole thing woulda put us way further up shit creek than waiting 'til morning and keeping our heads."
"So you think, what, that there's a guy out here? And he's got a hostage?"
"Pretty much. Voice sounded kinda high. M'guessin' it's a girl."
Shane let out an angry breath of air through his nose. "Why the fuck would someone bring a girl all the way out here?"
Daryl cocked an eyebrow at him pointedly. "Why do you think?"
"Fuck," Shane whispered, "Fuck! Why the hell didn't we turn back this morning? We need to get the fucking cops down here."
"Couldn't head back towards the cars with this fucker on our trail. Ground's still soft enough that any moron with eyes could follow well enough. We'd be leading him back to our only means of transport. What would happen if he beat us there? Circled in front of us and realized those trucks were our only chance of getting out of this place?"
"Christ," Shane let out under his breath. "Fuck. Ok. So we couldn't go back to the cars. Ain't got any service, so we can't call for help. But if the ground's soft enough that he coulda followed us to the trucks, then don't that mean he could be following us now?"
"He isn't," Daryl said, shrugging a shoulder.
"How do you know?" Shane immediately questioned.
Daryl caught his gaze, and lowered his voice to the barest whisper. "Because we're following him."
Shane gaped at him. "We're…" He floundered for words.
"C'mon, man. You really think me and Merle would let that go? Some asshole comin' into our camp, bringing some poor girl out here to do god knows what to her? Fuck that. One look and we both knew we were gonna follow this motherfucker."
"What do we do when we find him?" Shane asked.
"I figure Merle's bound to wanna beat him to death," Daryl sighed, "Never did take to well to men hurting women. Not after...after our mom. But I think between the two of us, we'll be able to talk him down. Beat the guy unconscious instead, haul him back to Sheriff Grimes and get that girl home."
"If you don't mind me saying, this is a shit awful plan," Shane said, bumping his shoulder into Daryl's.
"Yup," Daryl agreed, "But it's the only one we got."
TWDTWDTWDTWD
They made camp on a ridge, protected on one side by a steep incline.
The sun had just dipped down below the trees when the shrieking began again. It echoed out from between the trees, bouncing from surface to surface until the origin was lost into the brush.
Merle was immediately on his feet, screaming right on back, "You get out here, motherfucker! I'll fuckin' kill you!"
Daryl rounded on him, shoving the elder Dixon back with two hands and silencing him, if only briefly.
"First rule of tracking is to keep fucking quiet," Daryl seethed, reminding Merle of the rule he'd taught him, years before.
Merle spat at the ground and stomped his way into the tent. Daryl considered it a win.
"Should go get some wood, before it's really dark out," Daryl said.
Rick nodded. "Don't go alone." He was speaking to Daryl, but looking at Shane. The jock jerked his head in assent and followed Daryl out towards the treeline.
"We should stay close," Shane said quietly, while he followed Daryl deeper into the woods.
"We will," Daryl promised, "Just don't wanna get overheard."
Shane smirked at him. "Ya got somethin' planned, sweetheart?"
Daryl blushed, and stopped short, apparently content with their distance from camp.
"Just…" he started, before melting into Shane's chest face first, wrapping his arms around the older boy and walking him back into the closest tree.
"Hey," Shane murmured, running his hands up Daryl's back in slow circles, "It's alright. We're fine."
Daryl buried his face in Shane's neck. "Don't like this. Gotta do it, but I don't like it."
Shane pressed his lips to Daryl's temple. "But we've gotta do it," he echoed, and Daryl nodded.
The younger boy looked up at him through shaggy bangs. "Kiss me," he asked. Asked, but did not demand. He knew that he could demand it, that Shane would give him just about anything. But right now he needed to be reassured, and there was nothing more reassuring than Shane permitting him to have everything he needed, okaying every step of the way.
So Shane kissed him. He pulled Daryl's lips between his, kissed him slowly and reversed their positions, so Daryl was pressed against the rough bark of the tree. He took Daryl by the wrists and moved his hands to his neck, melded their bodies impossibly closer.
"When we get home, we're spending an entire day in bed," Shane whispered with his forehead pressed to Daryl's, "Hell. Two days. Gonna taste every inch of you. Make you lose it so many times you ain't gonna be able to stand without my help."
"Shane," Daryl whimpered, "Fuck…"
"I love you," Shane murmured as he nibbled his way down Daryl's neck. The younger boy shuddered uncontrollably against him, cock straining against the confines of his jeans. "Gonna show you how much. Wanna make you feel, ya know? Wanna make you feel everything. For me."
"Could get behind that," Daryl rasped, clinging to Shane's biceps.
"Behind, huh?" Shane teased, "You got some preferences y'ain't told me about?"
"Shuddup," Daryl muttered, claiming Shane's lips again, "Just 'cuz I love ya don't mean I gotta take your shit."
"You gonna kick me to the curb?" Shane asked, coming to his knees in front of Daryl.
The younger boy's breathing stuttered to a stop as Shane deftly unbuckled his belt and pulled down his fly.
"Not just yet," Daryl replied brokenly, grunting softly when Shane took him into his mouth. To Shane, this moment brought back memories of attending church as a child. Purity that shone straight through him in its truth. Bringing Daryl pleasure, like taking communion.
There was nothing like it. Nothing that could come close to that moment of euphoria when Daryl would look down at him, pupils blown wide with arousal, and Shane would know without a shadow of a doubt that Daryl knew. Knew that he cared. Knew that Shane loved him with everything he had. Knew that Shane would die for him, breathe for him, lay down in traffic for him. Anything, to see the younger boy's features soften, if only briefly, with the knowledge that he was loved.
Shane looked up at him, and those big, brown eyes exploded across the realm of Daryl's vision. They were all he could see.
"Shane," Daryl whispered, twining his fingers into the older boy's hair.
Torturous tongue descended further south, lapping at the sensitive orbs that twitched upwards with every swipe against his sensitive flesh.
"Don't gotta hold back," Shane murmured, "This is what I want, tonight. Wanna be on my knees for you. Wanna swallow you."
And even after all this time, Daryl still had to ask. "Why?"
"'Cuz I'm yours just as much as you're mine," Shane didn't hesitate to say, "And this is how I prove it."
"Don't need you to prove it," Daryl whispered, holding Shane's gaze. "Not anymore. Think...think I can finally hear it without wonderin' why you'd bother."
Shane smiled as well as he could around a mouthful of cock, and for that, he redoubled his efforts, moving his tongue over Daryl fast and hard until the younger boy was spilling down his throat with a loud groan.
"Fuck, Shane," Daryl moaned, even as the older boy kissed his way back up his body, tucking him carefully back into his jeans. "Fuck. Shane." He pulled the brown-haired boy flush against him, more than ready to reciprocate.
Daryl's mouth was on Shane's when the first branch snapped. It was hard to see through the thick darkness around them, but the sound couldn't have been more than a few yards off. Another branch snapped. And then another, closer this time. Deliberate. Or haphazard, the motions of man who didn't give a single fuck if he made noise as he approached them.
"Well, now. That was a hell of a show."
A man in dark jeans worn through at the knees and a black button down shirt stepped out in front of them, smiling too fucking wide. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared, eyes glittering as he took them in.
"Who the fuck are you?" Daryl growled.
The man took a step forward, opening his arms as if in invitation. "Me? Why I'm your biggest fan!"
"The fuck do you want?!" Daryl shouted at him, but mostly to mask the sound of Shane's whispered, "You go east, I go west. We meet back at camp. On my mark."
He spit it out in a rush, right into Daryl's ear, and the archer nodded his understanding. It wasn't much of a plan, but it was all they had.
"Ya know, that's a hell of question," the man drawled, "Been askin' myself that quite a bit, these days. But right now? Right now I'm thinkin' I'd like me a couple new toys to play with. The ones I've got now have gone and crapped out on me. Lost their sparkle, ya know what I mean?"
"Go!" Shane shouted abruptly.
With a sharp nudge to Daryl's side, Shane and the younger Dixon took off simultaneously, sprinting in opposite directions and never once checking over their shoulders.
And Daryl ran his heart out. Bolting away from a madman wasn't exactly new territory for him, and the faster he went the safer his family would be. He didn't permit himself to look back.
Shane, though, Shane shot forward ten yards, pivoted on his heel, then thundered back towards where he came at full speed. There wasn't a chance in hell he was running from this fucker. Not with Daryl in the line of fire, and his best friend off waiting by the sidelines. No, with Daryl out of immediate danger, Shane did the only think he could do. The only thing his instincts allowed. He attacked.
And the man looked surprised, fleetingly. Maybe even impressed. Shane tackled him head-on, and smiled as he did it. He had this motherfucker. It was done.
Done, if not for the taser the man had cleverly slipped into his back pocket.
Shane never saw it coming. And by the time he recognized the danger he was in, the jock was already laying on the forest floor, twitching helplessly in pain.
TWDTWDTWDTWD
Daryl crashed back into camp with none of the grace that he was known for. Merle and Rick both stood up from their respective spots by the campfire.
But before they could question him, Daryl asked, "Where's Shane?"
His eyes darted between the two of them, already knowing the answer.
"He's not with you?" Rick replied in a small voice, and Daryl felt his chest cave.
"No. No!" Daryl shouted, frantic. He ran to his crossbow and threw it recklessly over his shoulder. "We got ambushed. Split up. I gotta go back for him. I gotta-"
Merle hooked him by the arm, and drew him back, trying his best to keep his baby brother still.
"Hey, just take a breath. We're gonna find him. We are. I just need ya to tell me what's what before we go running head-first into a shit storm," Merle said.
"He took Shane, Merle!" Daryl screamed.
"Did you see him get taken?" Merle growled back.
That gave Daryl pause. "No," he said after a beat, "No, but that fucker was watching us. If he didn't go after me, it woulda been him. He said he wanted new toys. Fuck, c'mon, we have to-"
"Just 'cuz he ain't here don't mean that asshole nabbed him," Merle tried to explain, "Kid ain't no kind of tracker. Ya had him running off into the woods by himself. Could just be lost. Now what we need to do is-"
Merle cut himself off, probably for the first time Daryl couldn't remember.
No one stopped to appreciate it. Not when there was another scream echoing out through the forest. A scream that was neither feminine nor pleading. A shouted word starkly different than what they'd heard the night before.
"Daryl!"
"Shane? Shane!" Daryl called right back, and charged towards the treeline only to be stopped by Merle's large arm hooking around his waist. Daryl fought him desperately. "Shane! Shane!"
"Daryl!" The sound of Shane's call echoed all around them. "Daryl! Dar-!"
The noise stopped abruptly, as if Shane had ceased to exist.
"No," Daryl whimpered, still fighting against Merle's hold. "No! Shane! Sha-!"
Merle clamped his hand over his brother's mouth, pressed his own lips close to his ear.
"Need you to calm down, okay? We're gonna get him, but not 'til you calm down."
Daryl went boneless in his big brother's arms, sagging towards the ground.
"I can't lose him, Merle," Daryl croaked out, "I can't lose him. I can't."
"You ain't losin' shit," Merle rumbled fiercely, "I got a plan, alright? I promise you, baby brother. We're getting him back."