Sweet and Salty ~ Carl Grimes

Crap - 014

For the trigger warnings summary, go to the bottom of the chapter!!

Brooks was laying in the foetal position on the bed she would share with Daryl tonight. Her glasses were on her bedside table, she was wearing one of Daryl's shirts and she was curled up under the covers. Truthfully, she was boiling, but she wanted to be as covered as possible. Brooks' head was on the pillow as she just lay there, she didn't know what to do. She felt gross, like she needed another shower, but she couldn't go back in there. Her small hand were squeezing a hand gun that she'd found in Daryl's bag. Of course, if Christopher came back she wouldn't shoot him, no matter what, but it felt nice to be protected. No matter how much Brooks tried to cry, tears just wouldn't fall. She needed to scream, to let it all out, to sob, probably punch Chris again, but, she couldn't. She was frozen.

She lay still for two hours. Not many thoughts were behind her eyes. Usually, she'd be thinking of wonderful little stories to help escape the nightmares of her life, but not tonight.

'I'm disgusting.'
'I should've yelled.'
'Why didn't I hit him?'
'I didn't lock the door.'
'This is probably my fault.'

Brooks' heart went a thousand miles an hour when she heard the door click open. Her head snapped up as she pointed the gun at who turned out to be a very drunk Daryl. "Fuckin' hell, why's the light on?" He complained, before noticing Brooks lowering a gun. "Why the fuck are you loaded?" Daryl yelled, quickly slamming the door before walking over and snatching the gun from her little hands, putting the safety back on.

"No! I need it!" She shouted back.

Daryl scoffed. "Like hell you do! You could've hurt yourself! Damn, dumb bitch!" Daryl's drunk words were harsh as he stumbled over to his bag and put the gun back in.

"You have to at least have it! Someone has to protect us!" Brooks kept her raised voice.

Daryl furrowed his eyebrows. "From who? Fuckin' Doc McStuffins out there? We're fine." Daryl pulled off his shirt, and walked over to switch off the light. 

"No, I want it on!"

Daryl groaned. "Why the hell are you being a whiny bitch tonight?" Daryl asked, but she didn't answer. "Huh?" Daryl pushed, but Brooks still couldn't respond. Daryl furrowed his eyebrows. "Is that my shirt?"

Brooks fisted the material she was wearing. "I need to borrow it."

"Like hell, give it here." Daryl demanded, walking over to Brooks and holding out his hand.

"No!" She crossed her arms over her chest, holding the shirt tightly to her.

Daryl rolled his eyes. "You're ten, there ain't nothin' there that I haven't seen before, you know how many baths I've given you, kid? Stop being dramatic and give me my damn shirt, you shouldn't be takin' things which ain't yours!"

"Don't make me." Brooks whispered.

Sympathy filled Daryl's chest at her puppy dog eyes, so he scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Fine, but I'm turnin' off the damn light." Brooks nervously bit down on her bottom lip as Daryl walked over and shut off the light. Brooks hid under the covers while Daryl sat on the end of the bed to pull off his jeans, leaving him in his boxers before he got under the covers.

/----------\

Brooks didn't get a wink of sleep. She just lay there the whole night, terrified. When morning came and Daryl got dressed for breakfast, he tried to make her come with him, but, she refused. He didn't try very hard, he wasn't all that bothered if his sister wanted to socialise or not, he didn't want to socialise, but, the man was hungry. 

Once he was gone, Brooks grabbed his gun again, and sat up in bed, waiting. She held the gun in her lap as she stared at the door, she wouldn't let him sneak up on her again. It was about an hour later when Brooks next heard a voice. "Knock, knock." Came the soft voice of young Sophia on the other side of the door.