in a dark meadow -- daryl dixon

the life you want

word count: 3501

Daryl.

His gaze found her immediately, stealing her breath and the warmth from her body. Seconds passed as her eyes finally caught up to what she was seeing, though her brain couldn't form a single thought - at least, any thought that made sense. 

He was here, exactly as he'd left, the muscles in his arms taut as he balanced his crossbow within them. Blue eyes stark against the grime on his skin. Brown hair slightly tousled. Dried blood on his forearms and fingertips. Suspended between denial and joy, Avery stood there, frozen.

She watched him carelessly toss his crossbow onto the table, rounding the chairs to run and meet her. How desperately she wanted to feel his firm torso and the heart that beat within, to be drawn into the arms that made her feel protected and safe. To let his calloused fingers graze the line of her jaw before kissing her in a way that made up for the time they lost together.

But she stepped back.

The guilt was like ice in Daryl's veins. He stopped when she moved away from him, practically pressed up against the wall, as if something that sought harm had cornered her.

"Ave-" His voice was thick, the words caught in his throat. Where did he begin? How did he ease the pain and betrayal in her eyes? Opening his mouth to speak, he quickly clamped it shut again, shame and guilt forcing his gaze to the floor. He never knew what to say, and words were failing him now. 

"Y-you're back?" She asked, but it came out more like a statement. She bit the inside of her cheek, wishing she sounded stronger. She didn't know what to do with herself right now. The flight in her stance telling her to run, while her fingers itched to feel his warmth. To feel him.

All eyes on the room were firmly set on the duo, breath bated as they prepared for fury or tears. Or both.

"Well, hel-looo nurse!"

Merle stepped out of the shadows, oblivious to the tension. He ran his tongue across his lips, eyes traveling up and down her body in a way that should've made her skin crawl.

"Yeah, I remember 'ya. Pretty lil' thing at the quarry. Didn't expect to see 'ya here, sweetcheeks. Why don't 'cha come an' give 'yer old pal Merle a hug?"

Avery gawked at him, only just noticing he was in the room. Her eyes fell to the metal piece that served as a prosthetic on his right hand, the one he'd been forced to cut off when he was handcuffed to the roof in Atlanta. Merle noticed her staring and sent her a smirk. He lifted his good hand, wiggling his fingers.

"Don't worry darlin', these five fingers still got plenty of magic left in 'em."

"Shut up, Merle." Daryl snarled, cutting off his brother's line of vision of her. His tone was biting and calloused - a warning. A wolf baring its teeth. It took Merle by surprise, his eyes narrowing slightly on his brother.

"Hold on," Merle's gaze flickered between Avery and Daryl, putting the pieces together. He threw his head back and howled, as if he had heard the funniest punchline. "You two!? Hell, now I see why 'ya was itchin' to get back. Didn't know 'ya had it in 'ya, lil' brother!"

"Stop it."

"The tail we was pullin' back in the day don't compare to 'ya, sweetcheeks." Merle ignored his brother and moved around him, taking slow steps in Avery's direction. "You been takin' care of him? Tendin' to his every need?"

Daryl's anger rose. "Shut up!"

"How 'bout 'ya take care of 'ol Merle, next? Think 'ya'll let yer big brother have a turn-?"