Dream on

Warning: AU high school, slash(male/male),student /teacher.

Disclaimer: Do not own the characters Mr Kirkman and Co do.
A/N: I love when Norman talks about his character you find out so much about him, cannot actually wait for season 3. I really hope and pray they don't ruin the tv series as they did the comic. (no offense to anyone ,the comic series is awesome but the beginning and the now panels look like there from different comics)

As the metal scraped across my arm digging deeper as I move it, it blocked out the shouting, screaming and banging of my parents downstairs. The crimson blood slowly slivered down my pale arm in contrast with the tears that had fell from my eyes dancing together in a blend of pain. My room shook as my mother slammed the front door as she left again, probably to not return for a few months. There was a moaning creak that emanated from the front door's hinges that were beginning to fall off just like the peeling paint and nearly everything else in this mouldy old hell hole of a house. I was going to look out the dirty window to see who had ventured outside but when the argument occurred again and a loud smash followed I knew that it was my father. It felt like hours that they were arguing but it was only a few minutes. My mother called my father a 'son of a bitch' slamming the bent car door with emphasis then drove off in her scrap of her grey car, with a newly broken car window. The door once again groaned as he entered the house, he travelled up the stairs each one squealing and croaking with every step. The floor boards of the narrow corridor creaked under his body weight before he stopped by my door a shadow casting under it. Next the door was kicked open, the pristine lock that had newly been attached broken into two pieces, my door now sporting even more imperfections than before. I loosened my thin fingers dropping my razor that was once silver but was now a sickly red stain onto the wooden floor. He towered over my being scowling at me before he clasped his large hand around my wrist where the fresh cuts formed squeezing so the blood flowed onto his hand whilst his other hand formed a fist before striking me in the face. I winced as the pain throbbed in my eye tears bubbling involuntarily.
" Suck it up, you piece of trash "He spat at me before he vacated my room and the falling apart house, probably going to a bar to get drunk with a new girl (whore). And all this happened before the clock even struck 7am.

I slumped into school in a grey hoodie over a marvel shirt with black skinny jeans, which were ripped in many places (it wasn't a fashion statement), an hour late because I had to walk two miles to get here as my shit head of a dad left me plus Merle was high. Being only sixteen and without a license (plus Merle would skin me alive) I couldn't steal his bike. I looked out of place at this school. Sure, it is a public school meaning there is graffiti and rubbish around but it was quite neat, paint all in the right places and tiles squeaky and clean. And here I stood in the abandoned corridor in my wrecked old clothes with my greasy hair and a bruised face. I wasn't the hottest person on the planet and I never would be. As I placed my messenger bag and books into my messy locker ,that represent how messed up my life was , Mr Grimes my English and substitute Physical Education teacher, as the other one broke a bone, saw me and made a B line towards me. I grabbed my books for my first period ,slammed my locker shut the noise echoing through the halls before I scampered away from the teacher shouting my name murmuring something about 'already bein' late'. Disrupting my class, which was English with Mr Grimes, I walked in with my hood up and sat at my usual seat near the front. All the eyes staring daggers into my back dispersing when Mr Grimes rushed in with papers in his arms.
"Sorry for that class I had to get these fun photocopies for you. Mr Dixon please remove your hood , you were already late." Rick ordered nicely before he started handing out sheets. As I slowly took off my hood a boy behind me decided to draw attention to me.
"Whoa look at that bruise Dixon, you annoy your father again by bringing boys home?" He taunted from behind me. The boys' name was Billy , he was a religious boy who'd you expect to be as nice as pie but when it comes to me he hates me... probably cause he thinks I'm gay. I stood up quickly causing my chair to crash over on to the floor. I stood above him first threatening him before I touched him.
"Wanna say tha' to ma face?" I growled in a closed stance trying to protect myself from words and punches. Mr Grimes placed the papers on the desk he was nearest to then ran over to stop me from punching the Christian, apparently it's racist. He ushered me outside whilst he talked to Billy the bible basher (1) about how he shouldn't be mean. Urgh pathetic. I slide down the cold white wall my knees pressing against my chest knowing I'd be out here awhile whilst the hot teacher and religious freak have a raging discussion. Chatter echoed around the class room as Mr Grimes came out into the corridor after he told them to 'get on with the work'. I stared at my cheap version of converses with many holes as he got down to my level. I really don't understand why he cares no one else in the school does, they all know that I'm going to fail, get sucked in to the alcoholic abyss, OD and die. He studies my face, mostly the bruising that was a purple green colour sort of like a decaying bunch of grapes that was squishy when you touched it too.
"Mr Dixon I understand what Mr Greene said was hurtful and untrue but you would be worse than him if you hit him" He insisted softly, whenever he spoke I melted maybe it's because he is the closest I've got to someone caring. I grunted at what he said not really wanting to listen. "Daryl, who hit you?" He pleaded for an answer his eyes enthusing this as well as his tone, his long fingers stroked my face unconsciously causing me to push against his hand.
" No one hit me" My southern drawl stronger as I relived the events of this morning tears threatening to escape.
"I need to speak to your father-". Rick demanded as he wasn't getting an answer however I interrupted.
"He's not home" I mumbled as I began to stand up. Rick sighed as I walked back into the classroom following closely behind me. The rest of the lesson felt extended. Everything felt like it was in slow motion as I sat still by myself, the others around me moving like zombies. My head was spinning and I was confused at why? Could it be a concussion? It seems like a bad choice of the cause as he didn't hit me that hard...right? Next thing I knew I felt my throat tighten and my stomach flip, I ran out of the class room towards the bathrooms. As I bent over the toilet spewing up only stomach acid, I choked and gagged. Worst day ever. The bell rang through my ears as I felt disorientated, the herd of children clambering into the corridor could be heard in the bathroom. A creak from the bathroom door followed. I made sure the cubicle door was closed , not locked I couldn't move much at the moment, so no one could see the tears that ran down my face from the burning sensation in my throat cause by the acid.
"Fuck off" I groaned at the person who pushed open the cubicle door I was in, not noticing it was Mr Grimes. His eyebrows were raised in shock at my language I sniggered at the thought, like that's the worst I've spoken. My sleeves were rolled up my arms revealing my scars and bruises, old and new, a thing I wasn't thinking about as I was concentrating on not throwing up.
"Daryl...what...who did this to you?" Rick asked in bewilderment as he gripped my left arm softly, turning it so he could inspect all the cuts there depth, age and length. The bruising where my father gripped this morning had only gone down a little...you could still tell it was a hand. He fingers then traced over a word that I had etched deep into my skin, a gasped loudly as he so whether it was pain or pleasure I don't know.
"Unforgiven? Why did you do this? Daryl talk to me...please I'm here to help." He pleaded in desperation, he made me want to talk to him but how could I? I'm just red neck trash he has his own life to keep track of. I grimaced in disgusted as my stomach rolled when I stood up, Mr Grimes blocking my exit. We stood only inches apart in the cramped toilet stall until he backed down and moved out of my way. I didn't look back as I exited the bathroom. Why does he not know boundaries?

"I'm fine" I lied. I'd always been a bad liar, but I'd been saying this lie so frequently lately that it sounded almost convincing now. I was sat on the cold hard concrete curb in a heavy down pour of rain as I didn't want to go home and see my father or brother after I had finished the exhausting day of school. My odd socks and shoes were soaking in the dirty gutter water; my feet slowly beginning to freeze like my hands were in my pockets, already a very pink colour. Denim stuck to my skin in a uncomfortable position as my jeans were soaked through and through, my boxers moist as the rain water began to soak in. I was sat there silently and minding my own business dreaming of dreams with happy endings (how girly I know) when a car pulled up next to me and a man stepped out.
"Daryl please get in the car I'll take you home" Mr Grimes, my apparent stalker, demanded as he offered me a hand up.
"Don't need a ride" I replied gruffly messing with my wet hair that stuck to my face.
"Then please come with me to my house" He asked more in a way that he was telling me I didn't have an option, I took his hand to stand up then climbed into his nice car knowing he wouldn't give up. I investigated the car for imperfections and like him he didn't have any. His life was perfect. He had a stable income, a white picket house, expensive car and a family. Living the American Dream. When my eyes reached the back of the car I noticed a baby's car seat in the back...with a child in it.
"Ya never said ya had a child" I stuttered frightened I do something wrong as it stared at me with its big blue eyes. Rick chuckled.
"He doesn't bite...much." He smiled as we pulled up into his beautiful home. The garden was well kept, the grass mostly the same length, flowers planted as decorations to brighten it up.
"Is your wife okay with me bein' 'ere?" I pondered out loud as I exited the car. Rick burst into laughter as he grabbed his son's car seat.
"Don't you worry about that, I don't have a wife any more, she left me" He grinned as he opened the front door to his house. I stepped in and stood on the entrance mat in awe at how nice his house was. He went into the huge opened up living room, unclipped his son from the seat and placed him gently on a mat with colourful toys that were mostly stuffed animals. My eyes were still mentally taking photographs of his great home as he walked over to me with a towel and black dressing gown that I never saw him retrieve.
"Here. Get dry." Mr Grimes chuckled as he gave me the fluffy objects.
"I...um...wouldn't want to use...ya dressing gown" I spluttered in embarrassment my face growing warm and probably turning a fiery red colour.
"Not mine ,don't worry it's a spare, you may use my bathroom" He added before he disappeared into the kitchen that was attached to the living room, opening the shiny silver fridge and beginning to prepare food. I didn't move. Confused at what I was changing into. Still I wandered into his clean bathroom and stripped off my soggy clothes allowing them to fall into a pile on the tiles. I wrapped the soft material around my waist as I looked around his bathroom and found a strange pile of clothes that looked too small to fit Mr Grimes, how fast does this man move? And why hasn't he thrown them away? I slowly slipped the football shirt over my head, pulled the boxers up and put on the long cargo shorts he had gave me. I stood in the middle his bathroom for a few seconds before I decided to fold my clothes, bringing them, the towels and dressing gown with me as I came down the stairs. I placed my wet clothes on my dirty shoes and cautiously brought the towel and dressing gown to my teacher. Sat at the kitchen table was a medical box open with a few things out of it. Mr Grimes ushered me to sit down as he took his belongings from my hands then placed them in the washing machine. He sat calmly next to me and he disinfected my wounds before bandaging them up tightly.
"Daryl, please talk to me ...I'm here for you" He requested as he held my hands in his, obviously this is meant to be comforting; to me it was just awkward and a little creepy.

I hope they are not too OOC.
1. I am not religious however this is not what I believe, it is just for the matter of fiction. I hope I did not offend anyone. I had such a weird playlist when writing this... Backstreet boys- incomplete...not normally my music.