Chapter 30

Daryl's heart was pounding in his chest as he came to a complete halt. Everly was just ahead of him and coming his way down the corridor and he didn't know what to do. He had tried to avoid this moment for the past three days, not willing to face her after how he'd acted, but it had to come eventually. He could turn around and go back the way he came, but that would make him more of a coward than he already was. The thought of just walking past her crossed his mind, but he would never be able to do that. Everly would be in his arms without him even thinking about it and Daryl wasn't sure that was what she wanted anymore judging by the look on her face.

"Daryl! Just the man I wanted to see."

He turned just as Alan, a man he'd met on his last two runs and someone who he tolerated more than most in the Sanctury, put a hand on his shoulder. Daryl greeted him back briefly and looked down the hall again to find Everly, but she was gone. He felt his insides constrict.

"Negan just told us that we'll be leaving on another run in a couple of days. We'll be heading south this time. New territory for you, brother."

"Yeah, man. Lookin' forward to it," Daryl replied and held in a sigh. He didn't like going on runs quite as much as he thought he would. He enjoyed being out of the confines of the factory, yes, but leaving Everly to be subjected to whatever whims Negan had made him uneasy. Daryl had a feeling this upcoming trip was going to be much worse.

"The guys and I were just heading down to the hideaway. You wanna join?" Alan pointed his thumb in the direction Daryl had been traveling initially. He glanced around at the group of Saviors and saw people he didn't care to fraternize with.

"Naw. I'm just gonna head to bed," Daryl declined. He also thought maybe he could go to Everly's room. Try to talk to her again and use his brain more this time around. Or maybe he'd just be a chicken shit and ignore her some more. Truthfully, he was afraid. He was also embarrassed of himself, and every time he remembered what he said to her, he felt the harsh sting of the slap she'd given him. And he blamed only himself for it.

"Come on, man. Just come for a bit, have a few drinks, unwind a little bit. You look like you could use it." Alan shook Daryl's shoulder with a laugh.

Daryl looked from him to the others around the group again. He really just wanted to be alone and brood over the poor choices he'd made, and maybe figure out how he could fix them. But who was he kidding? Everly barely made eye contact with him, and he wasn't always the greatest at reading the body language of women, but she didn't seem too thrilled to see him in the same hallway as her. A nice, stiff drink might help cure the heartache he felt and put him to sleep more easily.

"Alright, I'll tag along," Daryl finally agreed.

"That's my man!" Alan smiled at him. "Let's get to it then!"

They walked down to the hideaway, the men around him talking about women, cars, and the shitty work week they had. Daryl really couldn't follow along although he had plenty to discuss. He wanted to go after Everly, tell her he was sorry and that he was worthless, but the fear came back; the fear that she would agree with him. He'd always felt like a fuck-up since he was a boy. That's all his father ever told him he was and his brother Merle didn't always hold back on him either. Why would Everly want someone like him? Someone who couldn't control themselves? What good would he do her? What good has a loser like him ever done for anybody?

Not a damn thing, Daryl lamented and sat down heavily in a chair once the lot of them entered the hideaway.

The place was as busy and loud as it had been last the time, but he felt less out of place this go-around. It helped that he was with other Saviors similar to him and not as a prisoner to Negan. Daryl glanced around for the man, not wanting to stick around if he was there, and thankfully he didn't see him. Alan placed a rather large and full glass of dark liquid in front of him.

"One of Simon's newest batches," Alan said, holding up and inspecting his own glass. "He calls it the King's Mead, whatever the hell that's supposed to mean. I'm not entirely sure what's in it, but I hear it's good enough."

Daryl wasn't sure he'd like the beverage so much seeing as he was more a spirits and hard liquor kind of guy, but he picked up the glass anyway and brought it to his lips. He took a taste, letting the beer sit on his tongue for a moment before swallowing. He decided it was better than the piss water generic beer he used to drink with Merle. He gulped down a few mouthfuls, suddenly thirsty for the taste.

"Damn, slow down, fella. Don't wanna get ahead of yourself too early, we still got the rest of the night to get shitfaced," Alan laughed and sat down next to him, striking up a conversation with a dark-skinned man.

"Is this the only thing they got?" Daryl asked Alan, interrupting his conversation. Both he and the other man, Shawn, looked at him.

"Nah, they got some other stuff, but they can be kind stingy about it. We gotta polish these off first."

Daryl took that as confirmation he would be getting more and that was exactly what he wanted. He raised the glass to his lips and chugged the whole thing down in a matter of seconds, letting out a large belch as he set it back down on the table. All the men looked at him with praiseful eyes.

"What other stuff?" Daryl questioned seriously and all the men laughed.

"Holy shit, man. I like you more and more each day." Alan placed a hand on Daryl's shoulder again, chuckling to himself. "I'll get more, but this time, nurse the damn thing. I wanna enjoy my beer, too."

A few hours (and drinks) later, Daryl was feeling particularly drunk and even more remorseful. He knew that drinking would sour his mood, but he hadn't expected to feel this sad. Everyone around the table had paced themselves, enjoying each other's company and conversation which Daryl had barely contributed to other than to ask for more alcohol. Normally, he was the type to get up and get it himself, but Alan offered each time and by a certain point, Daryl felt like he wouldn't be able to stand on his own. As it was, the room was currently shifting too much for him to trust himself on his feet, anyway. He decided to take a breather to right himself a bit.

It was as he was sitting back, relaxing and indulging in his inebriation that Negan entered the room and the once boisterous conversation came to complete halt. Everyone got down on their knee instantly, and Daryl let his head loll back, rolling his eyes and letting out an irritated groan in the process.

"Dude, get the fuck down," Shawn warned him through his teeth. Daryl looked lazily at Shawn as he vigorously directed his eyes to the floor over and over again, trying to get him to take the hint and get down on his knee. Alan finally grabbed Daryl's arm and pulled him down as Negan navigated his way through the room.

"You wanna special date with Lucille, dickhead?" Alan asked him.

"Fuck off me," Daryl slurred, yanking his arm from Alan's grasp. He'd like to see Negan try to fuck with him. He'd rip that stupid fucking baseball out of his hands and shove the barbed end up his lordly ass.

"Don't stop the party for me," Negan said when he was halfway through the room. "As you were."

Everyone went back to their prior activities, and the guys at his table all got up and sat back down. Daryl stayed on his knees.

"Daryl," Alan let out a nervous laugh, "what're you doing?"

He didn't respond. He had been looking at the floor before, trying to get his sight steady as he stared at the legs of his chair, but now he raised his head, his hair obscuring most of his unsteady view, and spotted the person he hated most in the world.

"Daryl?" Alan tried again, giving the other guys at the table an unsure look.

Suddenly, he was up on his feet, picking his chair up and ready to throw it, but it was forced back down on its legs almost instantly, Alan's hands on top of his.

"It's time you called it a night, don't you think?" Alan's voice was soothing and his face calm, but his hands held onto Daryl's in a crushing grip. Daryl sneered at him.

"Let me go," he growled out.

"Not a chance, friend. Not until you agree that you're done. Come on, I'll walk you back to your room," Alan offered, trying to take the chair from his hands.

"Naw," Daryl declined and tighten his fingers around the wooden back of the chair.

"Get it together, man. Don't be a fucking moron. You're gonna get yourself killed," Shawn tried to reason, throwing sideway glances at Negan across the room while also attempting to look like nothing was off. If something was going to go down, he sure as hell wasn't going to be part of it.

Fed up and tired, Daryl shoved the chair away from him as well as Alan's hands in the process. Alan caught the chair before it clattered to the floor, sliding it into place against the table while Daryl paced back and forth and glared in Negan's direction.

"Take it easy, man. Let's just take a walk." Alan tried to put a placating hand on Daryl's arm but he slapped him away.

"I'm fuckin' good."

Alan put his hands up and backed away, not sure what to do. The easygoing atmosphere they had early was gone.

"Fuck this," Daryl threw his hands up and started toward the doors.

"Should've listened to him when he declined the first time," Shawn commented to Alan and took a sip of his drink. Alan shook his head and rolled his eyes, sitting back down. He opened his mouth to reply, but the act was cut short.

"Daryl!" Negan's voice boomed throughout the entire room, essentially cutting off everyone's conversation once more. Daryl stopped halfway to the door, his shoulders rigid. Negan continued to beckon him over. "Get on over here, you dirty bastard! I haven't seen your fucking ugly ass mug in a coon's age!"

Daryl didn't move, not sure if he should ignore Negan and shove through the door or obey. He felt the anger building up in his chest and spreading down his arms. He didn't fully trust himself being near Negan at the moment.

"Daryl!" Negan sang out, followed by a whistle. "Come on, boy! Let's go!"

Slowly, Daryl turned and stalked over to Negan's table. The room's previous chattering was slowly building back up, but he could feel everyone's eyes on him and hear their whispers as he walked by. He didn't look at a single one of them as he kept glaring eyes straight ahead to his attended destination and the person who waited for him there.

"That's it, boy. There you go," Negan coaxed with a smile as Daryl go closer.

"Here, take a seat," Simon suggested and kicked out a chair to him. Daryl didn't take it.

"Sit, boy!" One of Negan's brainless followers at the table yelled followed by a hearty guffaw. Negan smiled in amusement at the command.

"You heard the man," Negan's voice was smooth. "Sit…boy."

Daryl thought about kicking the chair away. He thought about picking it up and breaking it across Simon's head and using one of the pointed broken ends to shove into the yelling Saviors neck. He thought about digging his fingers into Negan's face and ripping off his skin, but in the end he stayed where he was.

"Sit!" Negan bellowed, his smile gone and his expression gravely serious.

Daryl decided to not make matters worse. He hooked one leg of the chair with his foot and dragged it closer to him. He took a seat away from the table but kept it close enough so that he'd be able to hear those who sat at it. Negan laughed quietly at him, shaking his head.

"There's a good boy. That's how you follow commands," Negan mocked him.

"Damn, you've been getting into my Liquid Fire, haven't you?" Simon asked him. He turned to Negan. "Or maybe it's the King's Mead, but either way, this guy is drunker than hell. Look at him. He's looking more fetal alcohol syndrome-y than usual. You can see it in the eyes, the way they kinda drift apart more than they typically do." Simon gave Daryl a smartass smile. "Hey, it's okay, man! That ratty half-part you got going on covers it up. Mostly."

"If he were any more inbred, he'd be a sandwich," the Savior who yelled at him to sit earlier added in, and then laughed hysterically at his own joke.

"Oh, that's a good one! I gotta save that one for later," Simon commented after a laugh, taking sip of his drink.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Negan laughed, shaking his head at the insulting banter. Once he stopped laughing, he fixed Daryl with an amused look. "How's your week going, buddy?"

"It's going fine," Daryl snapped.

"Oh, easy there, fella. Don't wanna bite too hard on the hand that feeds you," Simon gave him a warning look and then the next moment it was lit like a bright light. "Roxanne!"

"Hey, guys. Just wanted to come and check up on the lot of you."

Daryl was overcome by sweet smelling perfume, and he could feel Roxanne's presence beside him as she used the back of his chair to lean a hand on. The tip of her hair brushed the top of his shoulder.

"Oh, we're doing just fine now, baby doll. Why don't you come take a sit on ol' papa's lap," Simon flashed her a wide smile and patted his thigh.

"Simon, you're such a pervert," Roxanne laughed flirtatiously. She glanced down at Daryl who sat stone faced staring at Negan who stared right back smilingly.

"I heard," Negan began but stopped to light a cigar. He took a few puffs to get the embers burning, then huffed out the smoke in Daryl's direction. He started again. "I heard that you did a good job on your last run. Apparently handled yourself like a pro. I've gotta say, I'm a bit impressed and only a tiny bit disappointed. While I like having you on my crew, there is a small part me that wishes you would fail. That, or meet a grisly, untimely demise, but that's purely personal, and right now, I'm all business. I'm gonna go ahead and say that you're already aware of the next trip coming up?"

Daryl nodded once. He wasn't sure what Negan wanted from him, and Daryl's willingness to comply with any request he might have was falling short of successful in prospect, but he held on to his composure; if only for the sake of Everly's wellbeing and his own head.

"Wonderful!" Negan beamed, taking puff on his cigar. Smoke flowed out of his mouth as he spoke. "It doesn't seem like it, but behind that stubborn asshole exterior, you've got some semblance of having your shit together. Even if it's a means to make your own end, your end still revolves around me, so I can dig it. But listen, I have assignment for you."

Daryl thought for a moment, his brain working hard through the booze it was soaking in. What kind of assignment did Negan have in mind? What would it entail? And how would it affect Everly, if at all?

"What's it about?" Daryl asked cautiously. He didn't want to agree to anything until he was sure it wouldn't involve Everly.

"Nothing too special," Negan twirled the cigar between his thumb and forefinger. "I've just got a man on the loose, and I thought maybe you could utilize those superior tracking skills of yours to hunt him down and bring him back. He pussied out and snuck away from camp, abandoning his outpost when he was supposed to be on the lookout while everyone slept. Three of my men ended up dying that night because of it. I want him found, and I want you to do it. You said you were a good tracker. Now, I'm putting that claim to the test."

Goddamn it, Daryl thought. He didn't want to be part of this. Tracking animals was one thing. He knew the signs to look for and the kind of habits they tended to have. Daryl didn't know the person Negan wanted him to find, and he wasn't sure he could do it. The man could be long gone by now or dead, and even if he did agree to go out searching for him, he wouldn't know where to start.

"Trackin' don't work that way," Daryl said, hoping to get out of this. "I don't know this person, who he was, what he did, or where he was from. That might seem unimportant to you, but it certainly helps to have a startin' point. Not to mention, if he ran off even a day ago, he could be long gone by now. It'd be damn near impossible to find him."

"Oh, I'm not so sure he's a far gone as you think he is," Negan countered with a smile. "The sack of shit is as old as shit. In fact, I'm thinking the son of a bitch might be dead by now, but if he isn't," Negan lifted his hands in the air, "You'll be there to find him."

Daryl couldn't believe him, and definitely didn't believe in his own ability to find whoever Negan was looking for. He wasn't fucking Robocop draped in human skin. He couldn't search hundreds of miles of terrain to find one person; that was ludicrous. But Daryl didn't know how to refuse him again.

"Daryl," Negan sang his name again, getting his attention. "You said my name, didn't you? You said it. You're a part of me now. So, I'm asking you to go out there and track the fucker down who abandoned your brothers and got them killed. Wear my name like a badge of honor and do what you promised me. Don't shame it."

You shame your fucking self, Daryl thought menacingly, but he knew he had no choice in the matter. It was pointless even trying to reason his way out of it. Negan took his sullen silence as an agreement.

"Don't worry, Daryl!" Negan chimed at him. "I know the person who ran off well. I'm not gonna throw you out there bone dry with nothing to go on. I've got your back. If I wanted you to fail, I'd make it much easier on me and harder on you, trust me. I will say that the person in question is smart. He has a lot of medical knowledge under his belt, and I'm sure he can use that to his advantage out in the wild even if the coward's belly is a soft as dog shit. That's why I'm choosing you. You're experienced at this. You're good at this. I have faith you can find him and get him back to me where he belongs."

"Is that it?" Daryl answered, ready to leave.

"Almost," Negan smiled condescendingly at him. "You'll leave in a couple of days, which is on purpose, mind you. I have a feeling this person might be in a specific place at a certain time. You and my guys will still travel to your initial objective, but you'll pass it, go fifty miles or so down the road, and search the southeastern point in that area until you find him. You see," Negan put his cigar down and leaned forward with his elbows on the table, "the man you're looking for is from the town your supply stop is at, Hilltop. He's got personal connections there, a brother who's a doctor, just like him. I know he's smart enough to maneuver his way around to avoid us tracking him down, but I also believe he's stupid enough to go to the first place we'd think to look. Fact is you're going to find him before he gets there because I believe you can."

"You so sure about that?" Daryl asked sarcastically.

"Why, Daryl," Negan gave him an admonishing grin, "You haven't already forgotten who are you, have you? Not just two damn minutes ago, I had to reminded you. And not only that, but I hear other things have been happening in my humble abode."

What did Negan know? Daryl flashed back to the night of his argument with Everly, and the events that transpired with her before, but other than that, nothing extraordinary had happened. After he left, he'd simply stomped to his room and locked himself inside for the rest of the night, too ashamed and upset to do anything else. No one would've known what happened between them except for maybe Arat, but he'd only briefly run into her in the hall away from Everly's room. There was no way she could've witnessed or heard anything.

Simon's slow whistling brought him back from his thoughts. Daryl caught Negan's eye.

"I told you to not to fuck it up," Negan voice was low, but audible. Daryl's heart was pounding hard in his chest. "When are you gonna start listening to me?"

Daryl was livid after his conversation with Negan. He managed to just barely restrain himself after Negan had alluded to his fight with Everly and Daryl's failure to keep her happy. His inebriety was slashed in half the moment Negan and his brownnosed henchmen walked in, but after that it was completely ruined. So, he decided to have one last quick drink (or two) with Alan and his friends before he left for the night. Walking back to his room now might've been a mistake, but he felt numb enough to not care.

He managed to make it up to his floor, but the ascent up the stairs got the blood moving more quickly and the alcohol was on full blast in his system. He caught himself against the wall before he fell down.

"Whoa, slow down!"

He heard a feminine voice call from behind him. He didn't bother to acknowledge whoever it belonged to and continued to stumble down the hallway instead, using the wall as support.

"Hang on."

He heard the voice again and felt the soft tug of a small hand on his upper arm. He turned his head, hoping that it was Everly's face he would see, as his arm was lifted and put behind a head that was much shorter than he was. It was Roxanne, the Sanctuary harlot.

"Whadya want?" Daryl slurred disappointedly. He didn't want her near him.

"I'm helping you out. You can barely walk down the hallway by yourself," Roxanne explained.

"I'm fine," Daryl protested, trying to take his arm away from her shoulders, but she held onto him with both hands. She was surprisingly strong from a small woman.

"You're not, but it's okay. I don't mind helping you out."

"I don't want ya to," Daryl persisted.

"And I don't care," Roxanne shot back. "Lead me to your room."

Daryl sighed, not having the strength to really put up much more of an argument, so he shuffled his feet forward and used the small blonde to hold himself upright. When they reached his door, he expected her to drop him off and go her own way, but she walked him in, shut the door, and set him down on the bed. He was surprised.

"There you go," Roxanne soothed, removing his shoes.

"Stop," Daryl told her. She was being too familiar with him.

"I'm just trying to-"

"Help, I know. Don't." Daryl covered his eyes with his forearm and waited for her to leave. He'd finish undressing once she left if he didn't pass out before then. After a few moments when he didn't hear her retreating footsteps, he peeked an eye out from under his arm and found her sitting in a chair, staring at her lap. He sighed. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," she responded, but her tone was flat, emotionless.

Daryl brought his arm down and propped himself up on his elbows.

"You ain't gonna cry, are ya? I don't got nothin' against ya and I appreciate your help, but I just wanna sleep. I've had a shitty fuckin' week."

"Week?" Roxanne laughed sardonically. "Try the past two years for me."

"I'm pretty sure that's everyone's story," Daryl replied, and flopped back down on his back.

"Did you lose everything?"

The tone in which she asked him made Daryl bring his head up and look at her again. She looked so miserable and small, curled in on herself as she sat staring at him. He attempted to sit up, not gracefully, but he managed well enough, and gave her as much attention as he could muster.

"I didn't have much to lose," he answered her truthfully. "I lost whatever I had left not too long after, but I gained more as time went on. Now…," he thought about it a moment, delicately going over all the things he cared about and where he stood with them, "I ain't got none of that left neither."

"I'm sorry." Roxanne seemed sincere, her face a mask of empathy.

"It's alright."

"I lost everything within a couple of months of everyone turning. I thought about walking out into a crowd of them and letting them have me." Her lip started to tremble as she thought about that night and how close she had been to doing it. She quickly straightened herself and put on a smile. "But then I came here and found some sort of purpose."

Daryl regarded her drunkenly, not sure that he understood her purpose of sleeping with men just because they wanted her to. But he got that she was doing what she had to to keep herself alive and sheltered. He couldn't say he didn't know and befriend others like her before.

"I know you think I'm disgusting," she said, breaking her gaze with him and covering herself.

"No!" Daryl said, waving a hand at her. "You're fine. I just…don't trust any damn person in this shithole. You're not disgustin', you're just a free spirit."

Roxanne laughed. She found his attempts to make her feel better were working despite the lack of truth she found in them. She believed he was sincere in what he said; she just didn't think it was true.

"You're a kind person, Daryl. Though, you haven't always been so kind to me, I can see it in you," she said. She got up and came to sit on the edge of the bed by his knees. "You wanna talk about why your week was shitty?"

"It ain't nothing," Daryl downplayed it. He didn't want to make her privy to what had happened between him and Everly, but maybe she could offer some good advice. "I just had a fight…with a friend. A woman that I like."

"Oh," Roxanne said, looking at her hands in her lap disappointedly. "The pretty redhead?"

"Yeah." Daryl nodded.

"What did you fight about?"

"I-" Daryl heaved out a large breath. "I was just an asshole, treated her unfairly because I was jealous of something that doesn't even exist. I was being stupid."

"You haven't made up with her yet?" Roxanne questioned, a hopeful inflection in her voice.

"Naw. I don't think she wants to, and I don't blame her. I'm a fucking loser with nothing to give her."

He didn't want to admit that he was scared of her rejection. It made him think he was that much more justified in calling himself a deadbeat, just like he father always said he was.

"Don't say that. You're not a loser, and you have plenty to offer," Roxanne disagreed vigorously, placing a hand on his thigh. "She just doesn't see it. You're sweet and caring. Anyone would be lucky to have a guy like you."

"I appreciate that," he said, not paying much mind to her hand.

"I mean it, Daryl. I like you."

That got his attention, and so did her drifting hand as it found the front of his jeans as she leaned forward to kiss him. Daryl couldn't find it in himself to move at first. He was too shocked at what was happening, but he muddled through the flood of alcohol in his brain, and put his hands on Roxanne's arms to push her away.

"I'm sorry," Roxanne apologize, covering her mouth with her hand.

Daryl scooted back some, trying to straighten himself up more and get a hold of the situation. His limbs felt heavy, and his judgment was clouded, but his body respondeded instantly. He felt very conflicted about that.

"It's alright. You didn't do nothing wrong," he tried to soothe her, hoping he hadn't hurt her feelings too much. He just needed her to leave before he did more that he would regret.

She gazed at him a moment longer before throwing herself on him again, swinging one leg over to straddle his hips and her hands holding the sides of his face as she kissed him. Daryl pushed her away again, speaking for firmly for her to stop.

"Why?" Roxanne protested, holding onto his shoulders as he pushed at her. "Why am I here comforting you and not her? She's doesn't care about you, Daryl. Why should you care about her?"

Daryl didn't know what to say. He knew Everly cared about him. Or he thought she did. He wasn't so sure anymore, and as Roxanne pressed against him again, he thought about how soft and warm Everly had been under him, how eager she seemed, and how easily she had pushed him away. Did she truly care for him or was she only pretending to spare his feelings? Why would a woman like her ever feel anything for a man like him? He definitely felt like he didn't deserve her.

She's better than me, Daryl drunkenly thought and he kissed Roxanne back.

Edited by lolasskicker.

So...

Thank you to my guest reviewer (and all reviewers). I'm glad the last chapter was enjoyable. I have a feeling this one will be disappointing to some. The story's not over yet. That's all I'll say.