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Salvation	By : madnad Category: S through Z > The Walking Dead Views: 8392 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: The Walking Dead universe & Daryl Dixon belongs wholly to Kirkman/AMC. Original character Lilith belongs to me. I make no money from writing of this story and it is strictly for entertainment purposes only. Do Not Repost elsewhere without permission

Chapter List
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Lilith climbed the stairs to the guard tower and was surprised and disappointed to find Daryl absent. She hesitated, wondering whether to go back to her cell block, but decided instead to sit down. She looked at the door to the little office, where two nights ago she had spent several peaceful hours laid next to Daryl.
Just thinking his name brought a smile unbidden to her lips. She liked Daryl, even though he could be incredibly unlikeable most of the time. She knew he wasn’t quite as abrasive as he made himself out to be. It was a defence mechanism, but a defence against what she was yet to determine. She found herself drawn to Daryl because, unlike most guys, he didn’t appear to treat women any different to men. He never patronised women, he never gave deference to women in some thinly disguised misogyny, nor did he look like he was constantly picturing them naked. He was sexually non-threating, and this had allowed her to feel safe and comfortable in his company.
Lying in the dark next to him that night had changed things. The heat that had radiated from him warmed not only her skin, but her soul. She knew he would never appreciate what an act of kindness he had done that day, inviting her into his personal space. Her heart raced now at the memory of his scent. It wasn't a stale or foul smell, it was just a manly smell, part soap, part laundry detergent, and part Daryl. Last night had felt cold and empty without him. He had been on her mind all day, and she found she no longer considered him a genderless colleague. She now saw him as a man; a good and gentle man, a fierce and loyal man. Despite her recent past, she knew now she wanted to know him as a man.
Her thoughts consumed her so much, she never heard the sound of someone approaching from behind.
***
When Daryl reached the top of the stairs, his stomach lurched at the site of Lilith sat in her usual spot although the smell of the cheap coffee had alerted him of her presence. He stood behind her, his steps naturally quiet and stealthy, and he realised she hadn't heard him approach.
Her hair was plaited in one long dark plait that hung almost to her waist. Her hair looked smooth and soft, and he imagined running his fingers through it. It was then he noticed that with his height advantage, he could clearly see down the front of her vest to the smooth flesh of her breasts. Flustered, he felt guilty and voyeuristic, and with a cough and a light brush of his fingers against her bare shoulder, he alerted her to his presence.
With a gasp she whipped her head around so fast she nearly spilled her coffee. She visible relaxed when she saw him. "Hey there," she laughed.
"Would you like me to Irish that up for you?" he asked with a grin, and waved a bottle of Jamesons at her.
She held out her cup, a huge smile on her face. He poured a good measure into the mug, and she then held up the other cup. Once he had added a little of the whiskey, she passed it to him.
"Where did this come from?" she asked, closing her eyes and moaning in pleasure as the warm spirit slipped down her throat.
"Me and Tyreese went on a supplies run this afternoon. Rather than hitting downtown, we hit the suburbs and found a house with a fuck load of canned and dried foods hoarded.
"That was a stroke of luck," she complimented. "It was a good idea to hit the suburbs."
"It was Tyreese' idea. Beth and Carol are in there now, cooing over it all. We got a few more tins of coffee and three bottles of whiskey. I left them two, and brought this one just for us."
Lilith blushed a little, and he realised what he had said. "Well, you deserve it," she answered quickly. "Sláinte," she toasted.
He chinked his mug against hers, and took a good swallow of the coffee. He grimaced as it was almost cold, but the whiskey made it bearable. He quickly drained the rest of the coffee, then proceeded to top up his mug again with more of the caramel-coloured spirit. He held the bottle towards Lilith, his eyebrows raised questioningly. He watched as she tipped her head back to drain the last of her coffee, then held out her mug. He topped it up, almost to the top.
"Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr Dixon?" she joked, then laughed when she saw the awkward expression on his face. "This is the first alcohol I have had in almost a year," she confessed. "I fear I may be a cheap date."
A date? He blushed at her choice of words. He tried scowling at her, but she just laughed at him. It was futile. He couldn’t help but smile at the constant amusement she found in his awkwardness.
"It would be the first date I ever had," he said, instantly unsure why he blurted that out. Goddamn whiskey.
Lilith stopped laughing, and looked at him strangely. Was she mocking him again? Or worse, was she pitying him?
"Tell me about your brother," she asked changing the subject. He hadn't expected that. "Tell me about where you grew up," she asked again.
Daryl rubbed at the itchy stubble on his chin. Where to start?
"I grew up in in the mountains of Cherokee County in the north. When I was little more than an ankle biter, my momma died in a fire."
"I'm sorry to hear that," she commiserated, placing her smaller hand over his as it rested in his lap. Her skin seemed to almost burn him. His instinct was to pull away, but he forced his hand to remain.
"It's okay. I don’t much recall my momma, and the house wasn't up to much anyhow. Both her and my pa drank heavily, and the neighbours that rescued me reckoned she'd fell asleep with a cigarette lit. Merle was about 12 or 13 at the time, and away doing his first stretch in juvie. My pa was probably out getting wasted or fightin' which is how he spent most of his days. He was an angry miserable man. Him an' Merle would fight something awful, regularly coming to blows. My pa would take the switch to him, his belt, fists or whatever he had to hand. When my brother wasn't in a detention centre, he was usually out robbin' and fighting, or selling drugs."
Daryl paused for a moment, memories of fights he had witnessed between his father, Will, and Merle replaying in his mind's eye.
"Then who was looking after you?" Lilith asked, the grip on his hand tightening.
"No one, really. Merle would some, when he was around, but I mostly fended for myself. I remember one time I was about 11, and I was tracking in the woods and got lost for a whole nine days. I lived off wild berries until I found my way home. I just walked in the back door half starvin' and made myself a sandwich. My pa hadn’t even noticed I'd been gone. Once Merle left home, pa turned the switch on me."
"That's terrible, Daryl."
He looked in her eyes, and they were large and sad, more so than usual.
"Pay it no mind. I'm here, I survived," he said with a smile. "I left home at 15, and joined up with Merle. He could be rude, unpleasant, and a racist. He dealt in drugs, and anything else he could make a buck at. He had some fucked up ideals, but he was never truly bad. You know?" He looked at her, and she nodded.
"He would give me a hard time, tried to make me just like him. He was a tough son of a bitch, but he was the only family that I had, the only family that ever cared."
"Until now," Lilith interrupted.
Daryl thought about his new family, this band of survivors. "Until now," he agreed.
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- 12
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Salvation