Cult » Daryl Dixon

twenty two

twenty two.

I turned my head to look at the doorway. Carl stood before the both of us, a scowl on his face. I felt uneasy, like I was about to be attacked for some odd reason by the energy he was giving off.

"Taking care of her," I responded slowly, unsure of what was happening and why he seemed so bitter. "She was all by herself."

"Well, I was just away for a few minutes and I'm back now," he said, crossing his arms. "So you can put her down. I can take care of my sister." I stared at him in confusion. Why did he say it like that? So much attitude... and for what?

"What's wrong? Are you okay? Did something happen while you were gone," I asked with sincere curiosity. Daryl rose to his feet, holding the baby close to his chest defensively; he sensed that something was about to happen.

"No. Nothing happened," Carl snapped. "Just put her back in her box." Lil' Asskicker began to stir in Daryl's arms. I glanced over at Daryl. He nodded, carefully placing the baby back in the box while keeping a close eye on Carl while he was at it. I turned my attention back over to Carl, squinting at him.

"You got a problem with me all of a sudden or something? I was just trying to make sure your sister was okay." I sent daggers at Carl with my eyes. If he was gonna be rude while I was trying to be nice, I was gonna throw it right back at him. 

"She's fine, Aften, okay? Leave her alone."

"Was just recently you tried to hold my hand, wasn't it," I fired. "You change up quick." Carl's face began to redden at the comment. I caught him off-guard, but he quickly snapped back.

"Seems like hands isn't the only thing you're holding, though," he retorted, his eyes flickering over to Daryl. My eyes widened, my face going red. Was he implying what I think he was?

"I'd watch yer mouth if I were you," Daryl suggested. Carl continued to speak, completely ignoring him.

"You've been here for like, what, a month? And you're already at third base?"

"You're outta your damn mind. I would never do that," I sneered at Carl, beginning to move towards him. Daryl quickly grabbed ahold of my wrist to keep me back, his grip firm yet gentle. "You don't even know what you're talking about."

"I saw you last night, Aften," he challenged, not backing down. His voice continued to escalate as he spoke. "Your head was in his lap so don't act like it didn't happen... and just look at you guys! There's obviously something going on between you two. Everyone knows."

"It wasn't that. You're just trying to make me look like a whore for no reason," I growled, furious as I tried to move forward again. Daryl grabbed my other wrist, tightening his grip so I couldn't escape. He tried to whisper in my ear to calm me down, but it didn't work. I fought against Daryl's restricting grip. "You're just making shit up!" 

Merle began to laugh above us from the catwalk. I flicked my eyes up to look at him as Carl continued to run his mouth with hateful words. I blocked them out, focusing on Merle who nodded down at me in approval while he smirked. Anger rushed through my veins as Carl insulted me, tore me apart in front of Daryl. I snapped. I ripped out of his grip and lunged forward, swinging my fist through the air as hard as I could. I knocked him to the ground, the baby wailing in the distance from all the noise. Carl's head ricocheted off the concrete, a few drops of blood flying from his nose and painting the floor. Daryl wrapped his arms around my waist and yanked me back. Carl started to cough but it sounded more like he was choking. I growled, fighting against Daryl's grip to to get another go at him but his hold was too strong. I could feel Carl's blood on my knuckles, sticky and warm, and Daryl's breath on my neck. He was whispering in my ear, telling me to stop. Rick came running into the room.

"You're fucking insane," Carl hissed, holding his bloody nose as he looked at me in shock. He wasn't expecting me to fight back at all and I knew that. "Just like your dad!" My breath hitched in my throat, my jaw slightly dropping. I could feel myself give up, my muscles relaxing. Daryl's grip was still tight on me but now he held me even closer. It was almost like he was hugging me from behind. I could feel tears stinging my eyes and a lump rising in my throat. I'm nothing like my dad and I never will be. He's the most disgusting, despicable person I've ever known and I'm not that. Rick turned to me, pulling his gun out and pointing it right at me. I looked at him in disbelief, hurt.

"Get your ass back in there," he nodded towards the lone cell distant from everything else; it's where I had been staying in my earlier days here. "Now," he hissed. I felt Daryl let go of me, his sudden grip leaving me with a shocking feeling. I stumbled forward, keeping my eyes on Rick as he held his gun at my head with no lack of confidence whatsoever. I was kind of surprised that he didn't shoot me on the spot or fire any warnings. I shuffled over to the cell, Rick locking the door behind me. He glared at me before leaning over to snarl at Daryl. "We'll talk about this later," he angrily whispered. Daryl stood still while Rick left with Carl, his eyes locked on me.

"You shouldn't have done that," he muttered in disappointment. My hands shook from the adrenaline that filled my body.

"Didn't you hear him? H—he..." My bottom lip began to quiver as I gazed down at my hand that was smeared with dabs of Carl's blood. I couldn't take it anymore; in the heat of the moment, he deserved the hit. Daryl gave me a weird look, almost taking a step back from me timidly. A pang of sadness hit me at the sight, an unnoticed tear slipping down my cheek.