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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 grabbed the bottle, and topped up the mugs with more whiskey. She was starting to feel tipsy, and was enjoying the buzz.
"To Merle," she toasted.
"To Merle," Daryl echoed.
"You know, if this past year has taught me anything, it's that my whole life before the world went to shit was utterly worthless and pointless. It's people like you and your brother that will survive this thing, if it ever blows over."
"Nah. It's nerds like you that will figure out how to end it. Everyone knows I'm nothing but a dumb redneck," he joked.
"Don't put yourself down," she chastised him gently. "And don’t concern yourself with your reputation. Your reputation is merely what others think of you, and what does that matter at the end of the day? Concern yourself with your character because that is what you really are."
He mulled over her words. Despite being much smarter than him, she never treated like a dumb country boy. Even with everything she knew about him, she has never once treated him as inferior. "You're starting to sound like Hershel," he laughed softly.
"Then Hershel is a wise man," she chuckled. "To rednecks!" she cheered as she raised her mug.
"To nerds!" he toasted in response.
Lilith laughed, and felt warmth in her belly when she saw the smile on Daryl's face and knew it wasn't just from the whiskey.
"Do you think they'll ever fix things?" she asked, her face suddenly serious.
"Dunno," he shrugged.
The mood was quickly becoming maudlin, as each of them considered the futility of their situation.
"What do you miss most from before?" she asked, with an enthusiastic smile. Happy that the conversation turned to brighter things, he smiled back.
"I dunno, really. What about you?"
"Music. I miss music the most. When I was young I would spend every penny of my pocket money on vinyl records, then later, on CD's. When I was a little older I would go to concerts. In recent years I would always have my iPod or radio on when working."
"What kinda music you listen to?"
"Oh, a mixture of stuff. I like most kinds, but love anything loud. The bands I went to see live where Motorhead, Buzzcocks, Blondie… that kinda thing."
"You like Motorhead?" he laughed looking incredulous.
"Yes," she frowned while smiling. "Why?"
"No reason. I like Motorhead. My brother fucking loved them," he said wistfully.
"So, go on tell me, what do you miss the most?"
Daryl went quiet as he thought, then shrugged. "Not much really. My life was pretty shit way before all this happened."
Lilith looked at the strange man next to her. He suddenly seemed so vulnerable. The weird juxtapose of his strong and capable nature against this more helpless and damaged aspect was strangely compelling.
"Sometimes, people with the worst pasts end up having the best futures," she said softly. "I think there's a strength that comes from fumbling your way out of the darkness. You have that strength, I can see it." She poked her finger into the taught tricep of his arm to emphasise her point.
"I can see that strength in you too, girl," he said quietly. "Yet you jump a mile if anyone so much as touches you. What's that all about?"
Lilith chewed her lip. She looked into his eyes, so ingenuous, so caring.
"Wow, okay. So, I guess it's that time," she gulped. She took a deep sigh, and swallowed the last of the whiskey in her mug.
"I came to Woodbury because two people from there found me stumbling about the forest. I was in such a state; they almost shot me as a walker until I spoke to them. When they found me, I was half-starved, dehydrated and had a broken collarbone. Prior to that… I'd been held captive by three men for about four months. They beat me, and… raped me."
She could feel her eyes already filling with hot angry tears. She didn't dare look at Daryl.
"During my abuse, I would let my mind wander free, let it be anywhere but in my body. I would lay there, an unwilling participant. That would anger them, and often spark the beating sessions. One day, one of them made the mistake of thinking my inert state was docility and compliance. He removed my gag, and tried to kiss me, so I bit off his tongue. As he clawed at his bloody mouth, I was able to grab the knife in his boot, and stabbed him in the head. Repeatedly."
The tears flowed freely now, her voice raw with emotion.
"After I was sure he was dead, I cut my bonds and ran from the house. I spotted a shotgun by the door and grabbed it. The other two came back from wherever they had been just as I was fleeing, dressed in nothing but dirty rags. I shot one in the chest, but the other threw himself at me. He was a big guy and the fall broke my collarbone."
She unconsciously touched her shoulder, where there was still some stiffness even now.
"We struggled as he tried to rest the gun from me. He finally prized it from my grasp and was pointing it at me. I begged and pleaded for him to shoot me. I wanted to die right then. It was at that moment, the man I had shot in the chest got up. He'd been dead, but he wasn't anymore. He reached his friend and bit into the back of his shoulder. My flight response kicked in, and I left that big bastard there, getting eaten by his friend. I kept running and running until I couldn’t hear his screams any longer."
Her hands flew to her face to cover her tear-stained eyes. As her shoulders shook, shame and anger wracking her body with sobs, a strong arm gently placed itself around her shoulders.
She felt Daryl move wordlessly closer and turned into him, burying her head in his shoulder. She gripped tightly onto the front of his shirt as she soaked it with her tears. He sat in stoic silence, holding her until her weeping subsided.
"People like to think this mess turned humans into monsters," he said finally. "But some of us have always been monsters."
Lilith sniffed unattractively, and quickly wiped her nose and eyes on the bottom of her shirt. She looked up at Daryl, his irises an icy-blue brilliance in their anger, and they contrasted against his dark features.
"You're not a monster, though. You're one of the good guys. I feel safe around you, and you're the only thing that keeps the nightmares at bay."
His eyes scanned her face, but he didn’t speak. Not for the first time, she was frustrated that he was so unreadable. His face this close, she did it almost without thinking; she leaned forward and kissed him on the lips.
It wasn't rushed; it was a slow kind of kiss that matched the tender moment. His lips seemed to soften beneath hers, and she parted her mouth to push her tongue forward, her hand raising to brush against his neck, and she felt his pulse fast under the smooth skin.
Like a frightened animal he drew away from her. It was too soon.
"What the hell are you doin' woman?" he yelled at her, his voice full of rage and loathing, but his eyes sent a different message, they screamed of fear and hurt.
Lilith was so surprised by the reaction her stomach clenched, and she felt nauseous. She sat open mouthed, too stunned to speak. Eventually, her brain caught up through the liquor-induced fog, and she reached out pleading fingers towards him.
He pulled back further then stood up and stepped away.
"I'm not your hero, lady," he growled.
"Yes, you are," Lilith murmured, trying desperately to keep the hurt from her own voice. He scowled at her, and took a deep breath. She braced herself expecting a tirade, but instead he stepped into the small guard tower office, and slammed the door shut.
Warm breath left her lips as she lifted her tear-soaked eyes to the moon that now shone upon them, hating it for looking so peaceful. She sighed in defeat and humiliation, grabbed the mugs and left quietly.
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- 13
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Salvation