Push It Down ch 3
Written for TWD Kninkmeme: I would assume that Daryl's still feeling the effects of his tumble down the hill and getting jabbed in the side while going through the events of the s2 finale. I'd love to see something where, in all the mayhem, running around, shooting, Carol holding onto him on the bike (which probably hurt like a bitch), he pops some stitches. His side is bleeding throughout everything but he doesn't say anything 'cause he doesn't want to be a burden. But then he collapses in camp. Anyone (Rick, Carol...) or all to his rescue. Currently gen but will most likely become a Rick/Daryl story.
Chapter Three
Daryl watched Rick pace-back and forth, back and forth-remaining silent and huddling in on himself while he leaned against a tree. His skin was buzzing, overstimulated and tired, the painful fog coming back to cloud his vision. It took everything Daryl had to remain standing and focused on Rick, silently willing the other man to hurry up and talk so he could go curl up and sleep. Finally Rick stopped and moved closer so they could see each other better in the darkness. He was breathing fast and his blue eyes were wide, Daryl thought he looked frightened.
“I need to tell you something but you can’t tell anyone.”
“Alright,” Daryl said and shrugged his shoulders. He would have rolled his eyes if he had the energy.
“This is serious, Daryl, I need you to promise me you won’t tell a soul.” Rick’s desperation made Daryl stand up a bit straighter.
“Whatever, man, I won’t tell no one. Just get on with it.”
“I killed Shane.”
What the flying fuck?
“Excuse me?” Daryl had to ask, had to be sure he had heard that right.
“I killed Shane. A walker didn’t get him.” Then Rick was pacing again, arms flailing up and down as he attempted to find words.
“You’re tellin’ me you killed yer best buddy?”
“God, when you say it like that I sound like a monster!” Rick also sounded like he was on the verge of tears.
“Never said that.”
“He was out of control.” Rick was rambling more to himself than Daryl. “Shane was a loose cannon, dead-set on having it his way no matter how many people we lost. Who knows what he would have done. He was dangerous.”
“Who’re you tryin’ to convince?” Daryl raised an eyebrow even though he knew Rick couldn’t see it.
“Jesus this is such a mess. What did I do?” Rick looked at him, eyes wild and hair a mess.
“What had to be done.” Daryl was starting to feel flushed, toes curling in his boots against the dull ache now seeping into his legs. “I didn’t like Shane, figured he’d hurt someone ‘fore long. Keep this to yerself and don’ worry ‘bout it none. What’s done is done and there ain’t no goin’ back.”
“Right.” Rick looked relieved. “You’re right, I made the right choice.” When he clapped a hand on Daryl’s shoulder the redneck instinctually went to lash out, to extract himself from the touch, but forced himself to accept it. The hand remained there, a warm reminder of how a touch can be kind and Rick’s face was close enough for Daryl to feel his hot breath on his cheek. Daryl was unaccustomed to the sensation, to the gentleness and the general feeling of being needed; because that’s what was happening right now, Rick needed Daryl. He needed Daryl to tell him everything was alright, to reassure he had made the right decision-he wanted Daryl to be the one to say it. Daryl let himself bask in that feeling for only a second before reminding himself that no one wanted Daryl Dixon, that Daryl Dixon was only there out of necessity, to survive.
“Get some sleep,” Rick finally said, moving away and back to his family. Daryl almost missed his warmth. “You look like hell.”
Daryl scoffed but didn’t argue because he was sure he must be looking as bad as he felt. He was one of the first people to fall asleep that night, something that rarely every happened, but as soon as Daryl lay his head on the grass he was out, hand resting on his crossbow.
Everything was cold, too cold. Daryl was shivering from head to foot, teeth chattering together like they used to when he was a kid, hunting with Merle for hours in the middle of the winter. But Daryl wasn’t a child anymore, he had long since grown accustomed to harsh weather extremes and he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so unbelievably freezing. When he tried to open his eyes Daryl found them heavy as though weighted down and his mouth was even drier than it had been the night before. Someone was yelling, hands touching his shoulders and slowly things began to focus more.
He was lying on the ground in the same position he had fallen asleep in and the sun was bright, sweat covering every inch of his skin but damn if he wasn’t colder than an ice cube. Daryl tried again to pry his eyes open, the light so bright he hissed and batted at whoevers hand was touching him. The yelling increased and Daryl could feel vibrations under him in the dirt, people running no doubt, but before he could put two and two together someone was trying to lift him up. Everything in him protested, his side on fire and Daryl was pretty sure he was yelling at whoever was moving him. Then the hands were gone and the shouting stopped but Daryl could still feel people staring at him as he slumped against the rock wall, the heated stone feeling like heaven on his back.
“-aryl?” Someone was saying his name. Daryl cracked an eye open and saw Rick’s concerned face mere inches from his own.
“What’dya want?” Daryl’s words were jumbling together.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothin’s wrong, Grimes, how many times do I got to tell you people? Now get the hell outta my face.” When Daryl reached out to push Rick away his hand missed, swatting at air and Rick exchanged a worried glance with Glenn.
“Did you get bit?” Rick’s fingers edged along his holster.
“You serious?” Now Daryl was pissed. He pushed himself up and tried to stand but found his legs shaking under him. Carol reached out to grab him, probably to help him, but Daryl jerked away and literally pulled himself to his feet with the rock wall. Daryl swayed but swiftly steadied himself and was more than a little embarrassed to see everyone looking at him.
“We just need to be sure, Daryl.” Rick stood too, holding his arms out to stop the others from advancing.
“Like I’d come to camp bit.” Daryl’s words were unforgiving, spit flying from his mouth. “Fuck all y’all!”
When Daryl walked away no one stooped him but he missed the way Rick’s eyes followed his every move.
TBC...
A/N: Please review and let me know what you think! Suggestions always welcome. Sorry for the shortness but the next chapter is full of craziness.
Chapter Three
Daryl watched Rick pace-back and forth, back and forth-remaining silent and huddling in on himself while he leaned against a tree. His skin was buzzing, overstimulated and tired, the painful fog coming back to cloud his vision. It took everything Daryl had to remain standing and focused on Rick, silently willing the other man to hurry up and talk so he could go curl up and sleep. Finally Rick stopped and moved closer so they could see each other better in the darkness. He was breathing fast and his blue eyes were wide, Daryl thought he looked frightened.
“I need to tell you something but you can’t tell anyone.”
“Alright,” Daryl said and shrugged his shoulders. He would have rolled his eyes if he had the energy.
“This is serious, Daryl, I need you to promise me you won’t tell a soul.” Rick’s desperation made Daryl stand up a bit straighter.
“Whatever, man, I won’t tell no one. Just get on with it.”
“I killed Shane.”
What the flying fuck?
“Excuse me?” Daryl had to ask, had to be sure he had heard that right.
“I killed Shane. A walker didn’t get him.” Then Rick was pacing again, arms flailing up and down as he attempted to find words.
“You’re tellin’ me you killed yer best buddy?”
“God, when you say it like that I sound like a monster!” Rick also sounded like he was on the verge of tears.
“Never said that.”
“He was out of control.” Rick was rambling more to himself than Daryl. “Shane was a loose cannon, dead-set on having it his way no matter how many people we lost. Who knows what he would have done. He was dangerous.”
“Who’re you tryin’ to convince?” Daryl raised an eyebrow even though he knew Rick couldn’t see it.
“Jesus this is such a mess. What did I do?” Rick looked at him, eyes wild and hair a mess.
“What had to be done.” Daryl was starting to feel flushed, toes curling in his boots against the dull ache now seeping into his legs. “I didn’t like Shane, figured he’d hurt someone ‘fore long. Keep this to yerself and don’ worry ‘bout it none. What’s done is done and there ain’t no goin’ back.”
“Right.” Rick looked relieved. “You’re right, I made the right choice.” When he clapped a hand on Daryl’s shoulder the redneck instinctually went to lash out, to extract himself from the touch, but forced himself to accept it. The hand remained there, a warm reminder of how a touch can be kind and Rick’s face was close enough for Daryl to feel his hot breath on his cheek. Daryl was unaccustomed to the sensation, to the gentleness and the general feeling of being needed; because that’s what was happening right now, Rick needed Daryl. He needed Daryl to tell him everything was alright, to reassure he had made the right decision-he wanted Daryl to be the one to say it. Daryl let himself bask in that feeling for only a second before reminding himself that no one wanted Daryl Dixon, that Daryl Dixon was only there out of necessity, to survive.
“Get some sleep,” Rick finally said, moving away and back to his family. Daryl almost missed his warmth. “You look like hell.”
Daryl scoffed but didn’t argue because he was sure he must be looking as bad as he felt. He was one of the first people to fall asleep that night, something that rarely every happened, but as soon as Daryl lay his head on the grass he was out, hand resting on his crossbow.
Everything was cold, too cold. Daryl was shivering from head to foot, teeth chattering together like they used to when he was a kid, hunting with Merle for hours in the middle of the winter. But Daryl wasn’t a child anymore, he had long since grown accustomed to harsh weather extremes and he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so unbelievably freezing. When he tried to open his eyes Daryl found them heavy as though weighted down and his mouth was even drier than it had been the night before. Someone was yelling, hands touching his shoulders and slowly things began to focus more.
He was lying on the ground in the same position he had fallen asleep in and the sun was bright, sweat covering every inch of his skin but damn if he wasn’t colder than an ice cube. Daryl tried again to pry his eyes open, the light so bright he hissed and batted at whoevers hand was touching him. The yelling increased and Daryl could feel vibrations under him in the dirt, people running no doubt, but before he could put two and two together someone was trying to lift him up. Everything in him protested, his side on fire and Daryl was pretty sure he was yelling at whoever was moving him. Then the hands were gone and the shouting stopped but Daryl could still feel people staring at him as he slumped against the rock wall, the heated stone feeling like heaven on his back.
“-aryl?” Someone was saying his name. Daryl cracked an eye open and saw Rick’s concerned face mere inches from his own.
“What’dya want?” Daryl’s words were jumbling together.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothin’s wrong, Grimes, how many times do I got to tell you people? Now get the hell outta my face.” When Daryl reached out to push Rick away his hand missed, swatting at air and Rick exchanged a worried glance with Glenn.
“Did you get bit?” Rick’s fingers edged along his holster.
“You serious?” Now Daryl was pissed. He pushed himself up and tried to stand but found his legs shaking under him. Carol reached out to grab him, probably to help him, but Daryl jerked away and literally pulled himself to his feet with the rock wall. Daryl swayed but swiftly steadied himself and was more than a little embarrassed to see everyone looking at him.
“We just need to be sure, Daryl.” Rick stood too, holding his arms out to stop the others from advancing.
“Like I’d come to camp bit.” Daryl’s words were unforgiving, spit flying from his mouth. “Fuck all y’all!”
When Daryl walked away no one stooped him but he missed the way Rick’s eyes followed his every move.
TBC...
A/N: Please review and let me know what you think! Suggestions always welcome. Sorry for the shortness but the next chapter is full of craziness.