+ blue-hopes

"Sorry," Van said quietly. And he was. For him, there was telling if his mom was even alive herself. She was just gone. And he probably wouldn’t ever see her again. All he had was his dad which wasn’t saying much so Van felt so alone. Until now. "Guess not. At least we found each other. Won’t be so lonely…"

Daryl nodded, his lip tucked between his teeth. That was some kind of luck, he guessed. Finding each other, finding someone so close to them. It was luck and Daryl was careful with luck because it had never approached him before. "Yer right," he muttered.

Something Lost

Dark eyes cast out uneasily over the emptied parking lot and towards the mentioned window. Even charming, little towns that had once housed populations no greater than one hundred posed as much a threat as cities. There may have been a point in their lives when a local population of one hundred was thought of as an almost nonexistent one, one that laid the foundation for tight-knit communities, but the tune quickly changed when it became a matter of one hundred Walkers. At best she could safely handle perhaps five Walkers on her own, but the store looked as if it could easily house anywhere between fifteen and twenty safely. There was a reason that she preferred the method of coaxing them away in small groups to be killed when she could manage it. 

Her gaze fell back to the male by her side as she offered the smallest of smiles on reflex. “Of course.” Veata was comfortable with someone taking the lead so long as the plans were sound and sensible. A strategist at heart, the Brit was better suited to the role of a second-in-command more so than a leader. She had neither the instinct nor the gut for it. There was a certain degree of recklessness required in maintaining such a position. “Perhaps there’s a way that we can lure a few out from the store…” A plan that would have been made easier, she realized, if they’d had a bow between them and arrows to spare. There was a method that she used when clearing a house that could have played well here: knock on the front entrance to draw out any Walkers before entering. A touch of reworking and with two people between them and a silent, long range weapon and it might have played out brilliantly here; no use in crying over spilt milk. 

Veata shifted the heavy weight of her crowbar from one hand into the other, a habit of working off nervous energy without generating too much attention, and gave Daryl the tiniest nod; she was ready.

He nodded as she talked, his eyes focused on the building. He then understood that when he said 'we', she thought he meant that she would go. he cleared his throat, his fingers playing with the handle of his knife. He glanced up at her, biting the flesh of his lip, "'m da one goin' to da window," he whispered, "y'all stay her' 'n watch f'me," he said, darting his eyes toward the building.

He couldn't see the point in risking two lives when one ws enough. He just had to sneak to the window and he could succeed better if he was alone. She was still too loud when she walked while he could walk without making any noise whatsoever. He looked at her, "Won't be gone lon', don't do anyt'in' stupid," he said. He stared at her a few more seconds before turning his back to her and walking away.

He walked quietly and fast to the window. There were no struggling Walkers around. He put his knife between his teeth and jumped, his hands closing on the window. He hissed as he flexed his arms, lifting his head to the window so as to see. He could see Walkers inside and count eight of them. There must be some inside and they had to be careful. He landed on his feet and went back to the girl, his knife now in hands. He crouched down next to her, panting a bit. "Only eight inside," he informed her, "wat d'ya thin' ?"

+ blue-hopes

Van paused in his walking, stopping for a moment before he fell back into step with Daryl as they walked. He was quiet for a moment looking away sadly, speaking softly. “No. She left.”

Daryl was afraid that he had said the wrong thing, that he had talked too much, took too much liberties. He nodded as Van talked, "Mine too. She dead," he added, wanting to be totally honest. "Were just wonderin' 'f one 'f us had any luck abo't dat," he shrugged as he chewed on his lower lip.

+ blue-hopes

Van’s heart soared when Daryl said that he could call him his brother. All of a sudden he didn’t feel so alone anymore. He smiled at Daryl and walked closer beside him, their shoulders brushing. He glanced over at him and said happily with a smile. “I’m glad we met, Daryl.”

"Glad too," he mumbled, glancing at Van. It was weird, really weird how his heart was beating fast just because their shoulders were brushing. His fingers gripped the hem of his sleeve, playing nervously with the fabric. "Y'all hav' a Ma ?"

Something Lost

Upset her? The comment caught her by surprise as her gaze slid towards him with a small flicker of confusion. Undoubtedly there had been a spot of embarrassment, and perhaps he could have worded the statement with a touch more eloquence, but it was not much of anything to be upset over. Far better than clomping about from one place to another and risk catching unwanted attention. “It’s fine,” she murmured softly, gentling her tone to convey her honesty. There was a polite smile to her lips as she listened to his words but it was the fact that Veata imitated in action what he vocalized that she felt best conveyed that she’d taken no true offence to his bluntness. “…thank you…”

Gratitude shifted to confusion when she looked from her feet to her side only to find that he had paced several steps ahead of her. It was…odd. Even having spent the last several months on her own, even with the hardened wariness that was to be expected of survivors, his behavior was undoubtedly baffling. She had little idea as to what to make of it, and that alarm caught her off guard as well as it did trigger her caution. Veata simply settled for ignoring the peculiarity of the behavior, a coping mechanism that admittedly had its benefits and consequences, and followed in his path. She observed in silence as the trees thinned around them until nature gave way to once thriving civilization and when they stepped out into a small lot leading to a local supermarket she readjusted her grip on her crowbar.

Veata tended to avoid places such as this, places with too few windows and too few exits, but it meant she often lost out on profitable opportunities. This, she reasoned, she could manage for a short period of time. In a low breath she murmured, “I don’t suppose you’d have a rough estimate of how badly infested it might be?” 

He was surprised that she didn't mind, that she said it was fine. He was always pissing people off and half the mind, he didn't mean it. He watched her do as he advised her to do. He was surprised that she was actually listening and doing as he said. Nobody ever listened to the advices of some dumb hick just out of the woods and they were right to do so because he didn't know anything about nothing.

They were walking and he looked around, trying to see if there was any clue of an animal having been around here not too long ago. He could be useful once he had his crossbow back. Sure, he was good at throwing knives but he knew he just couldn't kill a buck like that, at least not without all the luck in the world on his side. And it would be too bad, really, to see that meat go to waste. He spotted some prints, looking like it was a rabbit and he took note of it. It wasn't that far from the little town so he would have something to eat tonight. He thought about the girl behind him and wondered what to do about her. He didn't like people, had always preferred to be alone his whole life but this girl was quiet. She could learn to walk silently, more like him and she seemed to be understanding. But the main thing that he appreciated was that she was quiet and with that he could work.

"Nah," he said, shaking his head, his voice as strong as a breath, "but there's a window right dere," he added, poiting with his finger, "Will go b'there t'see wat's goin' on," he offered, turning his head to glance at her, trying to see if she seemed to agree.

+ blue-hopes

Van glanced at Daryl at his words and blushed. “I wish you were my brother,” he said quietly before he could pay attention to what he was saying. But he smiled outright when Daryl liked his idea. “Yeah? I like it too. It just… feels too special to be a coincidence right? Too important…”

He smiled at the blush that spread on Van’s face. He didn’t know why but he liked it all the same. “Ya can say I am,” he whispered gently before returning Van’s smile though it was little. He nodded, his lower lip between his teeth as he thought about it, "Ya is right. Dis feel like we was made t'see each other."

i still need you || Rick and Daryl

Before anything, half of Rick’s plate was almost gone. God, he must have been hungry. Work did that to him, it starved him and caused him to eat a whole lot more than he usually would. That and he had to fill himself up, add a bit of weight to himself. He wasn’t exactly scrawny, but he could do with a bit more meat on his bones. The smile from Daryl was enough for him to know that the young man was adjusting, that maybe he would be comfortable with this whole ordeal soon enough. After all, they would be spending a majority of the night together - Rick didn’t sleep until late, he never could sleep early. He was homesick, he hated being alone during the night. He smiled back before he dug his fork back into his food.

Rick smiled some more when the other man began to eat, when he finally started to shovel the contents of the plate into his mouth. That’s what he wanted to see, that the man was feeling comfortable around him. A nod of his head was to show that he agreed, it was pretty damn good if he did say so himself. He would definitely be ordering this again. When he heard what his older brother had said to him, he felt a slight anger within. How could someone utter those words to their own family? He felt somewhat disgusted with the idea of it and set his fork aside. ❝ He said that to you? ❞ He asked again, hoping he’d heard wrong. No family member should ever doubt someone’s ability to do something. ❝ He say stuff like this all the time? ❞ More questions were uttered from the officer’s lips. 

He glanced on his side, looking at the man's plate which was already empty. He still had half of his to eat but his stomach was full. It had been such a long time since he had eaten that much that he wasn't hungry anymore. He pushed shyly the plate toward the cop, his eyes shifting from the table to the cop's face. "Ain't hungry no more," he whispered, his fingers nervously playing with the fabric of his pants. He didn't want to upset the man or make him feel like he wasn't grateful for the food. Or worse, make him angry. He swallowed, waiting nervously for a reply but Rick's questions too him by surprise, making him raise his head.

He didn't know what all of that was about.He didn't want Merle to have problems because of him. His body was tense and he was looking at Rick, chewing on his lower lip. He wasn't hungry at all now and he had a need to throw up. What if he was giving problems to his brother by being here ? Merle was all he had, he had always taken care of him in his own weird way, making sure Daryl was enough fed and had a roof above his head. But sometimes, Merle got drunk and high and his big brother was nowhere to be found. But how could Daryl be mad at Merle when it was his fault ? When he was the one who left Merle alone during eighteen months and went to foster home ? It was his fault if Merle had felt so alone he had found new sins. ❝Merle is right, he bring money 'n shit at home 'n I don't do shit. Should find a job, bring money,❞ he whispered.

+ blue-hopes

Van tried to hide his sad frown of disappointment. It was stupid to get his hopes up like that. To think they - but no. “Must be nice to have a sibling,” he whispered as they walked. But this was something special, he could feel it and he was bound and determined to find out what and why. “Kindred spirits maybe?” All he wanted was a reason. If there even was one.

He could see that he had hurt the man b ut the truth escaped his mouth and he couldn't contain it. "Merle is an asshole," he mumbled, "rather hav' ya," he said, glancing at the man. He nodded at the next idea of Van, "Yeah, kindred spirit," he said softly, "I like that," he smiled, looking at the man. "Thin' we're that."

i still need you || Rick and Daryl

Rick hadn’t even noticed the slight anxiety attack the other man was having. He’d been digging into the food on his plate, and boy, did it taste good. After a couple of larger forkfuls, he realised he wouldn’t have been able to eat this by himself, that Daryl appearing on his doorstep was a really good thing. He glanced up at the man and watched as he calmed down. He didn’t seem as on edge now. A small smile before he shoves more into his mouth and chews on it. God, it’s good. A lot better than the small chinese store they had back in King County. It wasn’t the best chinese, but it was edible and he did eat it. They couldn’t get chinese anywhere else, not homemade chinese anyway, if it was even homemade. 

What Daryl said surprised him - he’d half expected that the man had been thrown into some kind of juvy or had skipped down because he’d been caught out by the federal government. To hear that he’d simply thrown him out, left him by himself in the harsh, cold world, shocked him. ❝ Sorry to hear that, ❞ he started, not knowing what exactly he wanted to say next. Did he brush it away or did he focus more on that topic? Maybe Daryl wanted to forget about it, maybe he didn’t want to discuss it. ❝ You gon’ eat or not? ❞ He addressed the full plate of food on the table opposite from him.

Daryl didn't know what he expected. He wasn't exactly sure what he wanted Rick to do, what he wanted his reaction to be. He wasn't sure that he wanted to hear him excuses, wasn't sure that he would appreciate if Rick asked questions but what he did was enough. What he said was enough and not too much. Daryl surprised himself as he wanted to tell more to Rick. Tell him about the sad lonely days when he was alone, how those days felt like they would never stop and loneliness crept inside his heart as he lowered his head. He thought that, maybe, Rick would understand the loneliness, the sadness, the nostalgia. He opened his mouth to speak but Rick stopped him by speaking. ❝Oh, yes, than' ya,❞ he said, glancing up at the man with a slight smile on his face.

He took his fork and started to eat. A satisfied grunt escaped his mouth as he tried to eat properly. He hadn't exactly been taught how to eat but he tried to. He ate slowly, taking little bit of food. He swallowed, looking up with a bright look on his face, "T's really good, officer," he said softly, really happy that he had come. He hadn't exactly eaten chinese before and he really liked it. ❝M'brother say I don't bring money hom' so I can be outside since 'm useless,❞ he said softly, looking at Rick, ❝but he'll take me back soon,❞ he nodded. Merle was an asshole but not that much of an asshole, he thought as he started to eat again.

Classmates || Beth & Daryl

Beth always always at least half an hour early for school every morning, like clockwork. She enjoyed the leisurely drive to school versus the hectic and chaotic trip that most of her friends endured. Plus, the excess time allowed her to visit her locker, fix her hair and makeup, make sure all her homework was in order. Everything just went on smoothly in the morning and nothing made Beth more grateful. 

Following her ritual, Beth sat down in her homeroom with about ten minutes to spare. She spent that time chatting with her friends and talking about their favorite TV show that had played the night before. When the bell rang and the last of the students filed in, she turned in her seat to focus her attention on the teacher before the announcements played through the school TV system. 

It wasn’t until the door open again that her attention was divided. It was someone she hadn’t seen before and her eyes wandered the room wondering where the new boy would sit, only to find the only open desk was right beside her. 

      It was just his fucking luck. He didn't want to be late, didn't want anybody to look at him or notice him. But this was apparently his usual lucky day. He was late. He pushed down the hood of his sweater, playing nervously with the hem of it as he arrived in front of the door. He took a deep breath and opened it, his blonde hair stuck on the side of his face with the rain. It was for the best though since he had a big violet bruise on his cheekbones. Apprently, talking back to the Pa of his new foster family wasn't the brightest idea.

He cleared his throat as the teacher looked at him. He nodded in direction of a free place. He walked toward it with his head down and tried to slide the more sliently way possible on the seat. His bag was on the table, his eyes on it as he tried to not make any movement which would make someone notice him. He opened his bag, taking his notepad out before swearing under his breath. No more fucking pen. He chewed on his lip, glancing at the girl next to him, "Y'all hav' a pen ?" he whispered, his eyes darting from his hands closed in fists on the desk to the girl's face.

+ blue-hopes

Van could sense that being so close to him was making Daryl uncomfortable so he stepped back one and cleared his throat nervously. He glanced into those identical blue eyes and lost himself for a few moments. Then he turned to the side and started walking, motioning for him to follow. They walked side by side and asked softly. “So… think maybe we’re twins or something?”

He watched the other man step back and he wanted to hit himself with something. He was mad at himself for being uncomfortable like that. Van was a welcome intrusion in his space, he just had to make himself accept it. He sighed, chewing on his thumbnail as his eyes glanced at the man from under his eyelashes, their eyes catching. He didn't need Van to make any motion because right now and with no reason, he would follow him everywhere. "Don't think so," he whispered, "hav' a brother."

i still need you || Rick and Daryl

Rick had known the young man was hungry as soon as he’d heard the rumble of his stomach. He didn’t comment on it, he didn’t feel the need to. The man would be well fed soon enough. He could only guess that he’d been through hell out there, that he wasn’t treated well by those he cared about. He felt sorry for him, he wanted to make it better, if he could. Maybe giving him food and shelter was the place to start. He emptied the contents of the given containers onto the two plates and glanced towards the empty, clean cups that sat by the sink. After emptying the food onto the plates, he reached out for the cups and placed them beside the plates. This would do them for tonight, then he’d make sure Daryl got some food in him in the early morning. He gestured towards the small table by the window, allowing Daryl to know he could sit down. 

❝ Nothing for ya to do, just sit, ❞ he was strict with his orders, knowing the other man wouldn’t do as he said unless he was authoritative. He turned for the fridge and pulled out the juice from inside - something to help down the food. He poured the same amount into both cups and then placed the juice back into the fridge. It wasn’t until he was sat down with both plates and cups on the table, that he began to speak again. He didn’t want there to be a certain awkwardness between them, especially after he’d recently arrested the guy. ❝ How long do you think he’ll be gone for? Your brother? ❞

He watched the man emptied the food in plates and he felt strange. It was weird, he could feel it in his stomach, in his brain and in the way his hands were shaking. He tightened them in fists, his jaw tight as he dropped his eyes. What was wrong with him ? Everything felt wrong and he knew that he was just feeling uncomfortable. But Daryl had a bad habit that developed over the years. He had anxiety attack. And he could feel it coming on him, his lips dry, the tightening in his belly and the moist hands. He was trying to focus on his respiration, only on his respiration. His eyes were on the floor and he was counting. One. Two. One. Two; Inhale. Expire. Inhale Expire. He was dying inside and all he could hear was his blood pumping in his head.

But suddenly, Rick talked and broke the spell. Every sounds came back to his ears, his heart seemed to calm down and his eyes could finally moved. He looked at the man and nodded, a breath he didn't know he had contained escaping his lips. He sat down but his bag was annoying him so he took it off, sliding it on his laps. He played with a thread of his bag, focused on it. It was weird to be alone with a man he didn't know that much in a house he didn't know at all. Guess that had helped with the anxiety. That and Merle throwing him out of course. He glanced at the food before looking at Rick. The question took him by surprise, ❝Hum, Merle isn't gone nowhere, he's her' I mean, he just threw me out.❞

+ blue-hopes

Van’s eyes leisurely roamed over Daryl’s body and came to rest finally at his eyes once more. He walked forward a few feet closer to him, slowly. He paused about a foot from him and gave him a tiny but genuine and curious smile. “Well, why don’t we try to get to know each other,” he offered, voice low.

He shifted on his feet under the other's eyes. He wasn't feelling particularly good under them and he had no idea what to do with himself. All his nerves seemed to be set on fire everytime those blue eyes wandered near them. It was driving him insane but in a good way somehow. But then, he was close and closer, so close that Daryl's fingers twitched as if they wanted to escape on their own so as to see if he was real. His voice sent shivers to his spine and Daryl liked his lower. As he couldn't find his voice, he just nodded.

i still need you || Rick and Daryl

Eyes scanned his kitchen - it wasn’t the nicest of places, but it would do until he was finished learning at the police academy. Then he would go back home, then he would escape this place and not have to come back. He didn’t like it, not as much as he liked King County. That was home, that was where he wanted to spend the rest of his life. He pouted slightly at the numerous empty boxes of pizza from a couple of nights before. He hadn’t had time to clean up, he’d been busy studying for his theory exam. He grabbed at the empty boxes and shoved them in the nearest trash can, hoping the other man didn’t mind the fact the place was a mess. If he had known he was coming, he would have cleaned up the place.

He eventually turned to Daryl, a welcoming smile upon his lips. He stood behind the kitchen counter and began to sort through the chinese food he’d previously ordered. He was quite thankful he would have someone to share his food with, someone to talk to. Nights were rather lonely, he didn’t know anyone in this town, he had no one to really talk to. Rick shook his head when the man declined the other, he could tell he was hungry. He was scrawny enough, food would do him good. He took out the containers that contained the chinese and grabbed two plates from near the sink. ❝ Don’t be silly. There’s plenty, you may as well. It’s not like I’m gonna eat in front of ya and not give ya any. ❞

He watched the man go through all the food and he could feel his stomach grumble, making all that noise like there was going to have any of that food for him. He didn't blame the man, didn't even ask for it. But some food would be great. In one of the foster home he went to, they ate Chinese every Friday. That family had been his favorite but he had still left them because his life was here. With his brother, with his Pa and somehow, he wasn't sure anymore that this had been the good decision. It felt as the right one but the good one ? No, that he wasn't sure. He licked his lower lip, it was all dry from the time he spent outside and the lack of water. He watched Rick try to clean the place and he felt even more uncomfortable. He was making the man feel bad about the way his house was, when really, he shouldn't. He shifted on his feet, looking down once more.

When he looked up once more, Rick's eyes were on him, a little smile on his face.He tried to refuse the food but Rick seemed to be stubborn. He shrugged, hesitant fingers travelling back and forth on the strap of his bag before he nodded hesitantly. "If y'all sure you doesn't mind," he said, his voice low and soft. He found the need to clear his throat awkwardly, shifting on his feet. "Need me t'do somethin' ?" he asked, feeling useless in the corner of the kitchen, the man looking like he was managing. Now that he knew that he would eat, his stomach couldn't seem to stop making embarrassing noise and he couldn't fight the blush on the nape of his neck.

Something Lost

Veata watched him closely as he mimicked the size of the shopping center. Where others might have found amusement in the motion of his hands, somewhat awkward and fumbling, she didn’t crack even a single smile and her expression remained serious. It was information that threw a wrench in her musings, but not one that stopped them either. She was the type of woman that thought constantly in an attempt to always plan five moves ahead. As he trailed off she nodded in understanding and though he didn’t respond as she made small murmurs of plans she found no offense in it. To her this was a part of her thought process, though she preferred being able to sit with pencil and paper, and she knew all too well that she had a tendency to drag out certain points when she spoke her mind out loud. 

It made her skin itch to consider that the best they could come up with was a half-baked intention of entering as silently as possible and slipping away unnoticed but there wasn’t much of a choice in the situation. 

"It will have to do…" His next comment caught her off guard and she paused for a moment in surprise. Her expression of thoughtfulness and concern dropped to be replaced by a startled blink of the eyes and a momentary speechlessness. Was she truly that loud? It took only a moment more for her cheeks to flush in embarrassment, a first show of emotion that didn’t lean towards carefully composed, but she hurried to follow his lead all the same with a soft clearing of the throat and far more careful and focused steps. "I’ll…work on that," she murmured. 

He was somehow relieved that the woman didn't seem to want to laugh at the way he spoke, the way he expressed himself. He had difficulties finding the right words when he spoke and it frustrated him which made him angry. People always snickered or mocked him when he was younger because of it. They were always saying shit about him being a hillbily, a stupid redneck who didn't know shit about shit and was fucking his family. He hadn't been a people person and the more he went out, the more he wanted to stay alone. He kept explaining as he noted that she wasn't making fun of him or anything. It was new, it was refreshing and he felt a bit better about the situation. Not that he was happy about it, but still.

He wanted to hit himself as she stopped, a blush coming to her cheeks. Fuck, he was one dumb sonuvabitch, he shouldn't have said anything and now she was mad. He should have stayed quiet, keep quiet like he always did. He didn't speak a lot because he was clumsy with words and they always seemed to escape his mouth, twisting so much it changed the meaning of them. He didn't stop walking through and she was right behind him. He chewed on his lower lip and decided to slow his pace so as to be walking next to her, "Didn't mean t'upset ya," he said, his voice soft, "just thought y'all could use some help with dat," he added, glancing at her before his eyes diverted. He chewed once more on his lower lip, "y'all walk too much with yer heel, t'makes more noise," he added, not really knowing if she wanted him to keep going, "try walkin' on da side 'f yer foot," he finished before walking faster so as to leave her with her thoughts.