Blood Bourbon

Growing Pains

Waking, truly waking, was painful.

His body felt like he had been hit by a dump truck and though he vaguely remembered waking up and being force fed more of those liquid meal replacements before being put under once more, the last thing Daryl truly remembered was panic.

He sat bolt upright, wincing in pain, hands going to his sides. He hadn't escaped, they had hurt him and pumped him full of more of that formula. As the world came into focus, however, Daryl grew even more confused. He was naked, in a double bed that he was not tied down to. The room was relatively bare, other than the bed there was only a chair, a suitcase, and a door.

Daryl was starving and dying of thirst, so much so that he barely stopped himself long enough to rifle through the suitcase for a pair of loose jogging pants that were barely clinging to his hips, before he was out the door and padding silently through what seemed like a really small hotel or a weird house.

But he smelled food, and despite hearing talking coming from some direction he couldn't focus on, his body zeroed in on the food automatically. It wasn't that he wasn't in control of his body, Daryl was, he was just thinking with a part of his brain that was focused on satisfying his hunger. It didn't frighten him and he didn't stop to wonder if he should fight it, finding himself in the kitchen and pulling open the large double doored fridge.

Daryl frowned at the shelf full of glass bottles filled with a dark red liquid, though he didn't hesitate in reaching out and grabbing one before turning his attention to the other shelves. He rifled through some containers, feeling his stomach turn at the sight and smell of the cooked food he found within them. The only thing concerning about his search was the growing hunger and frustration with every lid he opened up.

It was only then that he stopped himself from doing what the next urge wanted him to do, which was trying to tip the whole appliance over in a fit of rage. Instead he forced himself to move to the meat drawer, where he grinned happily and pulled out a packaged of uncooked steaks.

Daryl barely noticed himself closing the fridge doors and jumping up to sit on the island in the centre of the kitchen, happily eating and drinking to his heart's content. It wasn't until he was half way through his third steak and three quarters through the bottle that he gained enough sense to realize he was eating raw beef and drinking a bottle of blood like it was beer. But his growing disbelief and confusion wasn't enough to stop him before he was finished the whole bottle and all four steaks, licking his fingers clean.

A small part of his brain was telling him that what he was doing was not normal, that people don't just snack on blood and bloody meat, but he was ignoring as best he could when Ryker stalked up to him a very careful expression on his face. "Cowboy..."

The past several weeks rushed back to Daryl in an instant, sending him off the counter far faster than he was prepared for. The bottle clattered to the countertop as he half tackled and half tripped into Ryker, sending them both slamming backwards into the cabinets, though Ryker seemed surprisingly capable of catching him and holding him still. "You're alive."

"Yes." Ryker grunted, sliding his arms around him and pulling him close. "And you're awake. Were you eating?"

"You're more weirded out by the steak than the...." Daryl paused for a moment, before shaking his head slowly. "No, I guess blood wouldn't weird you out... but..."

"I bit you, Daryl. You were dying. I had to turn you. Your feeding is pretty instinctual right now...." Ryker still had that confused expression on his face, running his hands up Daryl's chest, before frowning. "Are you breathing?"

"They got me with..." Daryl frowned then, shaking his head and trying to pull away from Ryker. "You turned me?"

"Yes. A vampire bite, remember?" Ryker held him, though loosely, sliding his hands down Daryl's arms to his hands, turning them over in his own. "What did they get you with?"

"They tried to close off my receptiveness... apparently I'm incredibly... sensitive to everything. When they shot a Sharur, it got blood on me..." Daryl's heart lurched then, the rest of that memory hitting him, the last gunshot. "They... I tried... Ryker... I tried to reach him... but the bars electrocuted me, then they shot him."

"The Sharur?" Ryker's words weren't censuring, but there was no empathy in them, gently pulling Daryl closer. "They're vicious monsters, uncontrollable mutant experiments from what we can tell."

"No." Daryl couldn't decide whether or not he should cling to Ryker or push him away. "No... the little boy..."

Ryker didn't give him an option either way, holding him firmly and pulling him in more, wrapping him in a hug. "Show me."

Daryl didn't know what he had to do, other than wrap his arms around Ryker in return, clinging to the other man as the memory of that cell washed back over him. Though this time he wasn't alone, Ryker was there with him as a constant presence throughout the whole thing. It didn't make the pain disappear, but it made it bearable, that he wasn't there alone.

"Oh... Daryl." Ryker hugged him tighter, pulling him back to the present moment, rubbing his back. "That's not your fault. It isn't at all. I'm going to find that asshole and kill him, slowly." The words were a dark growl that didn't sound human at all and he could feel Ryker's whole body tremble with the force of the emotion that was behind them.

"I already did. He stabbed me as I was biting his throat out." Daryl mumbled into Ryker's skin, his face pressed into the vampire's throat. " I'm a monster...I've got claws... and..."

"You're not a monster. But I know about your claws. You think a splash of blood did that to you?" Ryker rubbed his back, almost holding him up off the ground now, nuzzling his hair. "How about we go sit down, Cowboy?"

"They wouldn't go near me without gloves or masks on after that." Daryl shrugged, before nodding, shifting to follow Ryker out of the kitchen, though the man kept his hand firmly held as they walked back down the hallway to the bedroom.