A simple supply hunt for a source of water in the middle of Atlanta turns sour quickly for Erin as she come fist to face with a fuming, handless Merle Dixon.
Alone in the middle of the apocalypse with only a racist guy who doesn't know the differen...
"People will stab you in the back and then ask why you're bleeding." - Unknown
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Betrayal flashed in Erin's eyes, but Daryl forced himself to avoid her gaze, knowing if he caught the look she was giving him he'd break down and look like a freaking pussy in front of his big brother. He knew he was being an absolute asshole to her, but he also knew it would be easier to get her forgiveness than to prove to Merle he wasn't weak - not much easier, but the worst she would do was beat his ass...
He didn't want to find out how Merle would treat him...
Wincing slightly as Merle's palm connected solidly with his shoulder in a way of congratulations, he found himself yet again becoming preoccupied with the strap of his crossbow. It had become his safety blanket almost; when he started fiddling with it, everyone assumed he was doing it for a reason, though in reality it was to avoid doing other things - like talking or maintaining eye contact.
His fingers traversed the coarse fabric, the tips memorising every bump, every seam along the harness and distracting his mind from whatever issue he was troubled with. Currently, he needed as much distraction as he could possibly get since it was beginning to feel like the world was closing in around him.
On one side, he had a high as balls older brother who was 'proud' of him because he thought he'd banged the woman he himself was too scared to try it on with (Daryl had seen how Merle checked her out when she wasn't looking), and on his other side was Erin, who he'd just verbally downgraded to little more than a whore he cared nothing about.
He'd well and truly fucked this up.
"Was she decen'?" Merle's voice dragged him back to reality by the scruff of his jacket, his mind yelling at him not to insult Erin any further, but his mouth was on a motor, speaking before he could stop it.
"Nah. I've had be'er..." He was so used to talking about women like that with Merle, the words simply rolled off his tongue. Unable to keep looking at his brother, his gaze dropped to the floor in guilt, mentally throttling himself for being such a prized dickhead to someone he respected... There was no way she would ever forgive him for this...
Merle let out a burst of uncontrolled laughter, his entire body shaking, "Ya hear tha', darlin'? He's had better!"
Daryl looked up to gauge her reaction and immediately regretted it as he saw the lack of emotion in her expression, hitting him like a rock dropping on his ribcage, suffocating his words. Merle's laughter didn't stop as she glanced towards him, her warm brown eyes turning cold and hard with a mixture of anger and resentment.
Without a word, she turned on her heel and stalked off towards Carol, who had been silently watching the entire exchange from a safe distance behind the defaced truck which bore a message for Sophia if she showed up. It took all of the self control he had not to run after her, grab her wrist and apologise profusely, but he was fully aware of Merle watching him.
