Ruin Me So You Can Save Yourself (Daryl Dixon X Male OC)

12. Look How Tables Turned

Daryl Dixon

I'm pathetic ain't I? Every time I drink or get high I find myself calling him. Like some college bitch. It's gettin' ridiculous. And if that's not stupid enough then the fact that he picks up the phone and never says no is ridiculous. Why would he even stick with me? Some redneck trash. Always high or drunk and he always takes care of my shit, I don't understand him. I don't understand what in the hell could he find in me. There's nothin'. I mean, I'm not the ugliest guy around but I ain't some Brad Pitt, definitely not handsome enough for him to put up with all my bullshit. Not after that drunk night. I lashed out bad. I shouldn't have but what's done that done. I'm surprised he still sticks with me even after that. I was yay close to punchin' him.

He says he likes me, but there's not much to like, if there's even anything to like about me. I did fix up his car, hoped he'd take that as thank you for lookin' after my junkie ass. Actually I was hopin' to do it before he wakes up and then run away for hunt so he leaves before I come back. But he woke up early, and damn me seein' him sober is a totally new thing. Not bad one. I noticed a lot of stuff about him. Like that he always brushes his hair away from his face even when it doesn't bother him, just a quirk. And that he sticks his tongue out of the corner of his mouth when he's concentrating a lot and that his eyes have a little bit of gold within all that darkness. I still been a little dick about it but I couldn't bring myself to face him like that, face all this shit.

I don't know how he manages to go to whatever collage he's goin' to, going to work and spendin' time with me. I called him three times last week, it's like every other day he woke up in the middle of night or was pulled out of his warm home by my annoying ass. And I know I have no right to ask more from him, and I still do because I can, and because he lets me.

But what I did not expect is to see him drunk on my porch. But that's exactly what I saw when I parked my truck in front of the cabin. Sam on the stairs of the cabin's porch. The guy that's always cold is wearing only a sweater, with a bottle of whiskey in his hands.

"The hell you doin' here?" I ask getting out of the truck and move towards him. Sam raises his head looking up at me and then drops his head against the railing again. Jesus. He's hammered. Even more than the first time we met. "What if my dad would be home? Or my bloody half uncle?"

"I wanted to see ya. You don't pick up the phone. You never do." Sam murmured, his words slurred, his eyes half lidded. He's barely even awake.

"Why're ya drunk?" I ask squatting down in front of him and reach out grabbing his chin to keep him focused but it doesn't help much. He just leans into my hand like a damn cat and mumbles something illegible. "Sammy." I grab his head and shake it a little, he doesn't react. I sigh and grab whiskey out of his hand, setting it to a side. Bottle already almost empty, no shit he's drunk. I pick him up and carry him inside the house and flopping him down on my bed. "Bloody hell, you're heavy." I mumble.

I plop down on the bed near his half conscious body and put my hand on his arm turning him to his back to look at him.

"What's up with ya?" I ask taking his chin in my hand and shaking his head once again to get him to consciousness.

"Stop." He murmurs, pulling his head away from my grip. With how much he drank I'm probably only making his headache worse.

"Only if you tell me what happened." I say sternly and grab into his chin tighter but not enough to hurt him. "Sammy, look at me."

He pills his eyes open and stares up at me. "Got kicked out." He slurs out.

"Kicked out of where? Home? Your parents kicked you out?"

"No. Not yet. The college. I failed my exams." He shakes his head a little.

"Oh." I sigh letting his face go and stare out into the room as I nibble on my bottom lip.