Chapter Text
Daryl could hear the party before the Hanger house even came into view. People were shouting and swearing as music blasted from boomboxes and speakers placed all around the property. The house itself is a dilapidated old cabin illuminated by campfires and old yellow light bulbs. The whole place felt a little creepy at night if he was being honest. There were holes in the roof, the porch was covered in moss and about ready to cave in, but it was the only place where they could be as loud as they wanted.
It had belonged to old man Bill Hanger who died in the race riots of 1965. He’d been killed when both sides opened fire, though it was common knowledge that the whites had shot first. Hanger had been the first white man killed, which had only proved to rile the mob up more.
He had no family and his house was already in such bad condition that the guy handling his estate just left it to rot. A party had been held in Hanger’s honor a few days later and the tradition of it being a party house had just kind of stuck. The place was filled with neo-Nazi and anti-black propoganda, but that wasn’t particularly uncommon in the area.
Daryl had to dodge a few drunk couples making out against the outside of the house to even enter the house. He made his way over to the kitchen to grab a beer. As per usual, he did his best to pick the one with the lowest alcohol concentration. He then made his way deeper into the house looking for one of his friends to prove to them that he was here.
He gagged when he saw a couple literally having sex on a chair just out in the open in the dining room. There were a few people watching them and some others that looked about five minutes way from joining them. He should be used to seeing stuff like that at these parties with how high and drunk people get, but it always made him uncomfortable whenever he saw it.
He left the room quickly, letting the music drown out the sounds of sex. In the next room, the main living area, he found Dwight and Spencer drinking on one of the ratty couches. Every piece of furniture in this house was threadbare and should’ve been trashed years ago. In Spencer’s lap was a woman and she was kissing his neck, but Daryl knew he wasn’t one for having public sex. When Spencer wanted to have sex at one of these parties he’d take the girl out into the woods to one of the tents somebody had set up for that exact purpose. That’s how common random sex was at these parties.
Someone slammed into his shoulder hard, making him spill a little of his beer on the floor.
“What the hell, man?” Daryl yelled, shoving the man off him.
His anger dissipated as soon as he saw who it was. It was Negan, his brother’s biggest rival. This was not someone Daryl wanted to piss off. His brother had just been caught by one of Negan’s boys selling coke in his territory. Daryl swallowed nervously as he waited for his reaction. Negan grabbed his shirt collar and hauled him closer.
“Stay out of my way,” he growled in his face, “And tell your brother that when I see him next, I’m going to blow his head off. This is the third time I’ve caught him dealing on my turf.”
Negan used his free hand to pull his handgun from his belt just enough for it to catch his eye.
Daryl nodded, trying not to let his fear show, “Yeah, sure thing.”
He breathed a sigh of relief when Negan’s grip on him loosened and he was let go. He rubbed his wrist and made his way over to his friends.
“Daryl!” Spencer cheered, his speech slurred.
Daryl nodded at them and sat down in the nasty, brown faux leather recliner next to them. There were stains on it that could be anything from vomit to beer to semen, but he tried not to dwell on it too much.
“Glad you could make it,” Dwight said, taking a swig of his beer, “With your attitude today I didn’t think you’d actually show.”
Daryl shrugged and lied, “Why would I miss this? You know I love this place.”
It took all of Daryl’s self control not to grimace when the girl shoved her hand down the front Spencer’s pants and make it very obvious what she was doing.
Spencer cleared his throat, “I think it’s time we made our way to a vacant tent.”
The girl in his lap giggled and got up, practically dragging Spencer outside. Daryl watched them go and was relieved they were gone. He took a swig of his beer and grimaced at the taste.
Dwight laughed at him, “Not up to your standards?”
“Not at all,” Daryl coughed, “this stuff tastes like shit.”
“Well, I’ll bet it was cheap as shit too,” he said still laughing drunkenly.
The sight of Gareth making his way over with his arm slung over some girl’s shoulder caught his eye.
“You should find yourself a nice piece of ass like this one here,” Gareth said and slapped her ass, “This one’s already been around the world tonight, but I’m sure she’d be up for another round.”
The poor girl was swaying so bad she could barely stand up straight even with Gareth supporting her. All she had on was a pair of muddy cowboy boots, an old cowboy hat, a black bra, and a matching thong. Guys kept walking by and just grabbing her like her body belonged to them. She would laugh and encourage it, but Daryl could tell it was an act fueled by free beer and cocaine.
Most of the women who came to these parties were treated like objects instead of real people. It made Daryl sick to think about what this woman might go through tonight. Some of the guys here weren’t exactly known for being gentle during their conquests.
“Nah,” he declined Gareth’s offer, “She looks about ready to fall down. I prefer it when my partners can actually do stuff, you know.”
“You don’t like it when all they can do is just lay there and take it?” Dwight teased him.
“No,” Daryl shrugged, laying the bullshit on thick, “If you’re partner just lays there, unless they’re tied up or something, it’s no fun. If they’re not having any reaction to what you’re doing, you’re bad at sex.”
The smile dropped off Dwight’s face at his comment and Daryl felt just a little bit proud of himself for that.
“Fuck you, Dixon,” he growled looking away pointedly.
“No thanks,” Daryl teased, throwing him a faux smile.
Gareth burst out laughing and the girl followed suit, though it was again obviously fake. He’d be willing to bet the only reason the girl allowed people to treat her like this was for drugs. Some of the women enjoyed the thrill of having sex in this place with whoever was available, but this girl was definetly here for her fix. It made him sad to see how desperate she’d become to get her fix that she willing walked into places like this when she wasn’t into it.
He listened to then talk and jeer at each other for a while until Gareth left to have sex with the girl and Dwight became distracted by a brunett who offered him a pull from her blunt. Daryl glanced at his beer, it was just over half empty at this point. His plan was to finish this beer, pretend to go get another one and just never return. He’d tell them at school when they asked where he went that he’d found a girl and went off to have sex with her.
He was just about to lift it to his lips and finish it when it was snatched from his hands. He looked up in confusion only to see an almost half naked woman standing next to him. She had on jeans and a bra, but that was it. She winked at him and then downed the rest of his beer. At least he didn’t have to finish it now. She tossed the empty bottle onto the floor and leaned over him.
“I’ve been watching you,” she whispered seductively in his ear, “You look like you could use some company.”
Daryl swallowed hard, this had been one of the many situations he’d been hoping to avoid. When he didn’t respond, the woman flipped her long blonde hair back and sat down on his lap. She placed a hand on the side of his neck and kissed him.
He could taste the booze and cigarettes on her lips. He didn’t like making out with random girls, but he had to play his part. He kissed her back, ignoring how much he didn’t want to be doing this. He’d made out with girls here before, but he never let it go any further than that. He wanted to push her away, but if he did that with every girl who approached him, he’d be accused of being a homosexual and beaten up.
He ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her with as much passion as he could muster. She parted her lips and he tried not to grimace when his tongue entered her mouth. He could feel her rubbing against his leg, trying to get him excited, but he already knew it wouldn’t work. He only had eyes for one woman and she was unfortunately off limits to him.
“What do you say,” she said licking his ear, “Want to slip away and have some fun?”
His mind raced as he tried to come up with an idea on how to end this gracefully.
“I’ve been with your brother,” she continued, now nibbling on his ear, “He’s got a nice, big cock. I’ll bet you’re packing the same.”
Okay, he definitely needed to end this. The fact that he’d just kissed a girl his brother fucked was freaking him out. He didn’t like her or this situation anyway, but that pushed it over the edge. He grabbed her shoulders and pushed her away from him.
“I’m gonna grab another beer. Meet you outside?” He lied, kissing her to help sell it.
She bit her lip and nodded, “Don’t keep me waiting or I might just find somebody else.”
“Yes, please find somebody else,” he thought, but smiled at her as she got up and went outside.
He breathed a sigh of relief and went back towards the kitchen to leave the party without her seeing him. He ignored what had become a fullblown orgie in the dining room and was about to leave when he saw his brother outside.
This was bad, really bad. Negan had threatened to kill Merle earlier this evening and now the two were about ten seconds from seeing each other. Daryl could see Negan walking over from the right with a girl on his arm as Merle turned to come inside. Daryl bolted out the door and grabbed his brother, pulling him away from the house.
“What the hell, baby brother?” Merle yelled pushing him away, “I was on my way to get myself a beer.”
“Negan’s here and he’s out for your blood,” he explained, “You need to leave.”
“Pfft, I ain’t going nowhere. That bastard doesn’t own that area.”
“Try telling him that,” Daryl grumbled, shifting nervously on his feet.
He was afraid of what would happen if Negan walked out those doors right now. He is a very violent man and his brother is the idiot who pissed him off.
“Doesn’t matter either way. If he tries to start shit, I’ll blow him away first,” Merle said pulling his shirt up just enough to reveal a 9mm handgun.
“You can’t just kill him,” he hissed, his eyes widening in alarm, “you’ll start a war.”
Merle’s lip curled in disgust, “Who gives a shit?”
“I do,” he snapped, “Your dealer will kill you for starting a war. Or he’ll kill you to stop a war before it starts. Either way you’re a deadman if you do that.”
Merle went to argue back, but he was cut off by Negan.
“You should listen to the kid, Merle, he’s smart,” Negan drawled smiling, the woman still leaning against him under his arm.
Daryl didn’t exactly appreciate being called a kid, but wasn’t about to say anything about it while standing in between two armed men. Especially when one was a violent drug dealer and the other one was his impulsive, dumbass brother.
“Fuck off, that neighborhood wasn’t your territory anyway,” Merle yelled at him.
Daryl stepped back out of the line of fire just in case things got ugly. He really didn’t want to have to learn how to patch up a bullet wound tonight.
“You should watch your mouth,” Negan said moving away from the woman, his hand going to his hip where Daryl knew his gun was stashed, “before I have someone break your jaw.”
“Too chicken shit to do it yourself, eh?” Merle jeered.
Dartl grabbed his brother’s arm, “Merle, this really isn’t a good idea...”
Negan’s eyes narrowed and his lip curled back, “Nobody calls me a coward.”
Daryl knew what was going to happen before it even occurred. Negan pulled out his gun and fired, but they managed to dodge out of the way. The bullet flew past his brother’s head and hit a man standing behind them. Screams erupted from the area as the man fell, blood seeping from the bullet wound in his chest.
“See what you made me do, Merle?” Negan complained, pointing the gun at the man on the ground.
Daryl looked over at the man and noticed his eyes were still open, he was dead.
“You made me kill an innocent man,” he continued shaking his head.
Merle face burned and his vision went red, “You tried to kill me!”
“Merle don’t!” Daryl yelled, but it was no use.
He watched in horror as Merle drew his own gun and fired, but he missed too. Luckily the stray bullet didn’t hit anybody, but the fight was far from over. People from Merle and Negan’s respective crews saw what happened and pulled their guns out. They ducked behind trees and benches as they fired at each other.
Bullets flew through the air, whizzing past people both involved and not. Innocent bystanders ran for the trees, in various states of undress, scared for their lives. Some of the more unstable ones were stangering forward in blind panics not fully understanding what was happening.
Daryl ran for the shelter of the forest like everyone else, but being Merle’s younger brother probably made him a target. He yelled in pain when he felt a bullet graze the top of his right shoulder. That was way too close to his head for his liking. He was nearly there when pain erupted in his side and he fell.
“Daryl!” he thought he heard his brother yell, but it was hard to tell with all the screaming.
He knew he’d been shot before he even saw the blood. It hurt more than anything he’d ever experienced before. He grabbed his side and cried out at the sticky feeling of his own blood running down his side and covering his hand. He’d bled before when his father beat him, but this was much more severe. His hand was covered in blood in seconds and he was still bleeding profusely.
He felt someone kneel down next to him and begin ripping his shirt off. His head lolled to the side as the pain overtook his nervous system. He felt a hand press onto his wound and something being tied around his waist. The next thing he knew, he was being pulled up and his arm slung over someone’s shoulders.
His vision blurred as he was half-dragged through the forest by a stranger. All he could concentrate on was trying to help his rescuer out by putting one foot in front of the other, though he wasn’t sure how successful he was being. He wasn’t sure how long they’d been walking when his legs finally gave out completely and he blacked out.
* * *
Daryl groaned in pain as he rose to consciousness. He slowly peeled open his eyes and was met by the image of his bedroom ceiling. He could feel his old mattress beneath him, some of the springs pressing into rather uncomfortable areas on his back. The pain in his side where he’d been shot was intense, but not as bad as it had been last night.
He couldn’t remember how he got here. The last thing he remembered was getting shot and someone carrying him to safety before he blacked out. It was obviously morning though since the sun was shining through his partially destroyed blinds. The door opened and his brother walked in.
“Fucking hell, little brother,” he said relieved, throwing his hands up, “You’re finally awake.”
Daryl glared at him, “And who’s fault is it that I got shot?”
“Negan’s.”
“Wrong,” Daryl reminded him, “If you hadn’t sold coke in his territory, none of this would’ve happened.”
“I saved your life!” he yelled.
“You’re also the one who put me in danger!”
Merle scowled at him, “Whatever, just don’t reopen your stitches. The bullet went clean through your side, so you’ve got stitches in both areas.”
Daryl nodded his understanding, this wasn’t his first time taking care of stitches. Unfortunately, tending to severe wounds is something he’s very familiar with. He’d had more than a couple lashes on his back that his brother had sewn up and vice versa.
Merle went to leave, but Daryl stopped him.
“Who died?” he asked looking up at his brother.
Merle paused in the doorway, his hand resting on the door knob.
“I wasn’t going to tell you just yet, but I suppose you should know,” he sighed turning back around.
Merle pulled the chair away from his desk and sat down next to Daryl’s bed, if you could call a twin mattress laying on the floor a bed.
“There were a couple fatalities last night,” Merle began, “A couple of Negan’s guys were killed and a few of mine, but it’s the ones that died in the crossfire that you know.”
Daryl got a sick feeling in his stomach.
“Dwight was killed last night,” he revealed, “We’re not sure which side did it.”
Daryl felt like he’d been punched, he couldn’t believe it.
“He wasn’t even involved,” Daryl choked out in disbelief.
“I know, we assume a stray bullet hit him when he was running away.”
A couple of inches to the left and he could’ve been killed last night too. Daryl could feel tears welling up in his eyes, but he knew his brother wouldn’t respect him if he cried.
“Get out,” Daryl whispered, turning his head away from his brother.
“Daryl...”
“Get out!” he yelled throwing a notebook, the only thing he found within reach, at him.
Merle ducked his head in shame and left the room, closing the door behind him. As soon as the door was shut, tears slipped down his cheeks and fell onto his thin, ratty blankets. Just yesterday Dwight had been annoying the hell out of him and now he was dead. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around the idea. But he couldn’t help but feel a little bit selfish thinking, “Thank god it wasn’t me.”