Daryl and Rick AU

Chapter 24

(Ricks POV)

I grew more worried each time I knew that I was driving closer to Daryl's home.

He told me the directions while I stayed quiet. I was unable to talk. And what else would you talk about under this type of situation?

I wanted to convince him to let me go in with him or at least wait outside the Dixon household yet I knew that each time I pleaded, the more he might back away from me. Of course I wouln't want that.

I would glance back and fourth at him once in awhile.

To my surprise, he was more at ease then I was. Although he was still looking away from me at the passing cars, he was steady and calm unlike me: heart pumping, hands shaking, palms sweaty and  gripping hard onto the steering wheel. I wasn't ready. All the negative thoughts had come to mind of what might happen.

"You see that dirty white fence straight ahead? That's it."

I slowed down the speed of the car and turned to look at Daryl. My eyes widened as I was amazed as Daryl was already facing me.

"I'll be okay."

He simply stated

His voice seemed to have reassured me a bit that everything might actually go well. I did still have the right to be worried at least and I certainly was.

I turned onto the road. Driving up next to the curb of the household driveway. I stopped the car and sighed lifting my head, setting it on the head rest of the seat. I closed my eyes while resting my hands onto my knees. I felt a warmth hover over my right hand then a grip.

I opened my eyes, lifted my head up, facing Daryl.

"I'll be okay. Come back in an hour or so and I'll be sitting right there on the curb, my things in hand"

His voice as steady as his stature. He then opens the car door, keeping his eyes on me then climbed out.

The bang of the car door made my heart pound harder than it ever has.

His voice echoing in my head long after he had already walked through the light red door of his home.

I breathed in as deep as I could and turned the key, starting the car and driving off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Daryl's POV)

I walked in the home, breathing  a sigh of relief knowing that his car wasn't in the driveway. I was in the clear. I slowly walked through the main hallway of our home knowing that this was probably one of the final times I'll be entering this place..

I passed through the living room, cocking my head to look into it hesitantly.

Some of the best moments where in that room. When for once everyone was happy and I felt that I could just possibly live in this world without feeling like shit, like dirt in the eyes of my father. Yet of course that feeling only lasted a few moments.

I shook my head and continued to walk straight through the hallway. Passing the kitchen, where at times my Dad would get a beer and throw the bottle at my head.

Finally inches close to the open door of my bedroom. This was where most of the beatings had happened. Few times before my Mom passed but heavily after she had.

I would always wake up in fear. I felt like most of the time when I was sleeping, I always had one eye open, ready for him to barge through the door at any moment. Smell of booze and cigarette smoke gradually spreading about the room.

I shut my eyes tightly, holding the bridge of my nose in between my fingers whilst breathing in heavily.

"I need to get my shit."

I murmur under my breath.

I relax myself and begin to look through the corner of my closet for my large navy bag to put my things into.

In handfuls, I gather my clothes and stuff it into the bag.

I looked at my bedroom from the outside in the hallway seeing how it clearly look as I was running away. I knew that if my Father would see this he would do anything he could to get me back. It wouldn't work with me being over 18 and all but he'll find away.

My palms grew sweaty thinking that this might not work. I might just come back home again. It always happens and it might sooner or later, then I'll just be back to where I was at the start.

This thing I have with Rick might not even work out. Doubts started running through my mind and I shook my head to try and think straight.

I closed the door to my bedroom and looked around the home for anything else that was important to me.

Nothing was. I didn't have much, didn't need much.

Walking up to the front door, I stop in my tracks and begin to walk back through the hallway again.

Passing the living room, the kitchen and my bedroom, walking up to the dark door of my fathers room.

I breathe in and push the door open. The smell of stale cigarette smoke in the air, the smell so familiar that I wasn't fazed by it.

All I knew was that I needed to find my mothers necklace.

I remember my old man punching me a few times knowing that I had kept this after her funeral. I knew that he had taken the necklace from the floor and walked into his room. I remember hearing him closing his drawer door.

I pulled the drawers open with force, throwing the clothes and drugs out of them. I didn't care of the mess I made, all I wanted, needed was that cross necklace.

The third drawer was the charm. It flew to the ground as I unhinged the drawer.

I grabbed it from the carpeted floor quickly and shoved it into the front pocket of my jeans just as I started to walk out his bedroom.

Passing the hallway for the final time that day, I stopped midway and grabbed the picture of my mom in a frame off the wall.

Now walking straight to the front door, a half satisfied smile across my face whilst staring at my mothers picture in my grip.

Maybe something good might finally happen to me.

Just as I think that, I hear a creek coming from ahead of me. I look up to see the front door in front of me start to slowly open.

Then my eyes grew wide and my breathing had slowly stopped.

"You little shit. Where the fuck have you been!"

I'm back!!!
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