onlyonezen (onlyonezen) wrote in zombieslogs, @ 2013-10-19 20:22:00 |
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Entry tags: | carol peletier, chris argent, daryl dixon |
Who: Daryl and Chris Argent, Carol used with permission
What: Daryl catches Chris looking at Carol the wrong way
When: After Carol's net post
Where: Outside Carol's cell
Warnings: angst, some scary grief stricken papa, and a fistfight
Daryl's first thought when he read the net post that Carol put up was that she was in danger. He didn't give a flying fuck who she shot or who was pissed off about it. When it all came down to it the one person he really cared about was Carol (and Julia and Sookie but right now they weren't the ones in the fryer). She was family to him in a way that no one else could ever be now that Rick and the others were gone. That's why he was standing outside her cell after trying to talk to her and calm her down. Obviously she needed a minute to herself and he didn't mind leaning against the wall with his knife out and gripped firmly in his hand. He didn't want to stab anyone and get them both thrown out but if someone was gonna come at Carol with the idea of hurting her he was gonna come at them until they couldn't get back up again. That's just how he worked. He wasn't afraid to do the things that needed to be done even if they weren't pretty.
Just minutes ago Chris Argent was lost in the throes of distress. A kind of distress that had brought him to his knees and forced him to empty his stomach in a prison toilet. Allison, his sweet beautiful daughter, his strong warrior...was dead. How could he be expected to go on after this? Once she was born she had become his life and his everything. She was the only reason he kept on after losing Victoria and then after losing the rest of the world. The idea that Allison was out there had kept him alive and honest...and he was going to lose her to a stray bullet in the woods. He had been prepared for all of the nastiness around them and all the monsters that wanted to take them down but in the calm of their lives his baby girl would be taken from him by the simplest of things...by something that seemed like a threat so far behind them. It was almost as bad as if she'd been in a car accident, it just felt so out of time and unbelievable. Most of all he blamed himself for not being there to protect her. This was it for him, he would never be the same person again. It didn't help that Lydia and Stiles were possibly hurt on top of everything else...he'd taken them both in and while Allison was his flesh and blood they felt like children to him as well. Lydia especially since he'd cared for her all the way back in Beacon Hills.
Long moments of sickness passed that felt like eternity, slumped against the wall of the bathroom with a hand over his mouth to stifle the cries. His heart had no place in his body anymore so he tried his voice did its best to empty it out into the air. And then the post came. Allison was alive. He didn't know how and he didn't care. He needed to be with his daughter and he needed to see her and touch her and make sure she was really there. He tapped out a message and got a reply but when he did he was already out the door of the bathroom and on his way to her. Carol's post pinged before he could get there, how could he know that all of this was converging at the same time? All he knew was that as he passed Carol's cell on the way to his daughter he was looking at the person who murdered her. It didn't make sense how this woman murdered his child and she was still here for him to go see but those were the facts and his mind was too irrational to argue them. He couldn't help but let his murderous resentment bleed through his eyes...if he could shoot her dead with a look he would without a moment's remorse. Tomorrow he'd feel bad for thinking this way, knowing that Allison was alright, but tonight he could only picture himself strangling that damn woman until she didn't move. He wanted to force the life out of her and then catch her soul before it sank into Hell and destroy it, too. Chris didn't even notice that he'd stopped walking.
Daryl noticed. Chris crossed by and Daryl couldn't help but glare right back at him...but the older man's hateful stares weren't pointed at the redneck they were going past him to the innocent woman inside her cell. As if he would fucking stand for that. Chris stopped and stood there and let the hate pour off of him and Daryl stepped in his line of sight "Keep movin'." he demanded simply with a dismissive throw of his arm. Chris seemed to notice him for the first time but instead of saying anything back he stepped up and still looked past him. Daryl had broken him from his trance "YOU!" Chris barked "You shot my daughter!"
Daryl shouted something that fell on deaf ears as Chris moved in. Before either of them knew what happened Chris was stepping closer to the cell and Daryl cut him off, shoving him back "Get the Fuck back. Best shut yourself up 'fore I have to shut you up myself." Daryl could have spit. He was so pissed that anyone would have the audacity to approach Carol about what had so obviously been and accident. But Chris wouldn't have it.
Carol was on her feet now, guilt laid heavy in her bones but she still knew that she had to stop Daryl before he got too worked up about this. At this rate they were going to-- and they did. Daryl struck first, he gave Chris another shove and when that didn't make the grieving father walk off, the redneck took a swing at him. Chris went down on one knee from the unexpected blow and rose a hand to see if there was blood on his lip. Daryl growled out "Now git. Or i'll stomp your ass into the ground, you sick son'o'bitch."
Chris felt the darkness pull at him...that darkness he fought every single day out in the woods that whispered in his ear for him to throw the Code away. For him to embrace the evil in his heart and lay waste to all those that got in his way. And for once in his life he acted on it. He used the momentum of getting up to throw himself into Daryl and a moment later they were on the ground, rolling and exchanging awkward but effective blows as well as they could. Carol was screaming at them to stop but they didn't care.
At first Chris had the upper hand. He was fueled by his rage and his grief and he every drop of blood that Daryl shed was another drop in the pool of satisfaction. Daryl tried to grab at his shirt and push him off but the blows just kept coming, the elder Argent was wild eyed in his need to see the light flicker out of those goddamn eyes. Those eyes of the man that would defend his daughter's killer. Anyone that saw him wouldn't recognize him, he was no different in that moment than the monsters he fought so hard to protect people from. After all, the real monster wasn't a wolf or a zombie, it was the darkness lurking in their own hearts.
Daryl finally got a good hold and he managed to roll Chris off of him, going with him and using the leverage to send a jarring blow to the Argent's face. They kept on with the power struggle near evenly for long enough that Carol felt the need to step in. She rushed in and grabbed at Daryl, trying to pull him off and yelling at him to stop and for the first time the southerner heard her. He jumped up and off Chris in a scrambling way and Chris actually let him go. The Argent pulled himself to stand as well and huffing, blood dripping down their faces, they exchanged a challenge of silence. Carol stood just behind Daryl and Chris looked between the two of them once more before he tore his eyes from them and started to walk past. He stopped next to Carol and hissed out "Never look at me or my daughter again." before he kept going to clean himself up and see his child.
Daryl let out the breath he'd been holding and groaned at the realization that his face fucking hurt. The adrenaline was still pumping so he could only imagine how it would feel after it faded off. His side hurt somethin' awful, too. Just what the hell kind of fighting did that guy do? He ignored any advances Carol made to talk to him or help him and simply went to stand outside her cell again, leaning against the wall and watching her quietly. He brought up his sleeve to wipe away the blood from his nose and mouth but he didn't intend on going anywhere. Tonight he was her bloody guard dog.