Title: Dark
Summary: Daryl runs into The Governor while outside the prison.
Notes: I don't know what this is really. A bit of a nothing one shot that's not really at a satisfying ending but it'll do. It just needed to be written. This is a little bit dark, a bit nasty but nothing extreme.

They'd been working the fields all day. A few of them had been working on the gates, making them a little more secure.

They were always looking to better the place now they'd settled things down.

And it was the start of spring. A nice cool day before the sunset, Rick decided to feed Judith outside. The fresh air a change after the harsh winter spent huddling inside to offer her the protection that they could.

So he enjoyed his time away from the others, just bonding with his daughter. She certainly didn't give him the grief that Carl did and he was grateful for her young age.

And as he sat there, holding her he noticed a lone figure break from the cover of the trees. He quickly was able to recognise it as Daryl, his movement and form so familiar to him now.

A whistle from the guard tower nearby had Rick craning his neck upwards as Maggie sought his attention.

When Rick looked up to her, binoculars in hand, she had a frown on her face. "He looks like he's a little banged up," she informed him.

Rick looked back towards Daryl as though he'd suddenly be able to see what she meant. "Come get Judith," Rick asked her and she didn't respond, just seemed to quickly reappear beside Rick and take the youngster from his arms.

"He's not rushing or watching his back, so he can't be worried about an ambush," Maggie told Rick, hoping to reassure him. He nodded and headed down towards Daryl at a jog. He opened the inside gates not long after Daryl arrived at it.

The hunter looked the worse for wear. He had a graze across his head and the left side of his face, he was limping a little, though Rick didn't see any visible wounds or blood.

"What happened?" Rick asked, feeling slightly relieved that he could see nothing too seriously wrong with Daryl.

But the next words stopped him dead and made his blood run cold.

"Governor," Was Daryl's simple reply.

And Rick could barely believe it. The fact that Daryl stood before him after running into The Governor couldn't be a bad thing, not after what that man had done to the other people who got in his way. Rick's mind flashed back to Merle's sketchy fate, how he'd found Andrea and one of the Governor's other men, not to mention the army he'd put together to take down the prison. All of them dead, all through the Governor's actions.

But then the look Daryl wore wasn't one that instilled confidence that the man was out of their lives forever, put out of his own misery.

"He's... still alive?" Rick questioned and Daryl gave a quick curt nod.

He noticed Daryl wouldn't really meet his eye and Daryl took a step forward, encouraging Rick to walk with him. They fell easily in step together as they headed back towards the prison. Before they reached the last gate, Daryl stopped walking.

"Whatcha gonna tell 'em?" he asked.

His gaze still never landed on Rick and there was a niggling feeling in Rick's gut that something wasn't right.

Daryl scolded himself as he waited for Rick's answer and he forced his gaze up to the man, met his eye and held it, even though it made him feel uncomfortable.

'He's a fucking cop,' he told himself. 'He probably dealt with weird shit all the time, so don't fucking let on.'

Rick looked away thoughtfully. "I don't want to lie to anyone. But I don't want them to panic either."

Daryl nodded at Rick. "C'mon," he said as he headed back inside and Daryl trailed behind, terrified of being confronted by the others but knowing he had no choice.

Maggie was waiting for them, and her eyes went to Daryl as soon as he got close enough for her to cast her scrutinising gaze over him. She let out a sigh of relief and smiled to Rick. "Not as bad as I thought. What happened?" she asked and Daryl looked to Rick, waiting for him to take the lead.

"Wait here a minute," he told the pair as he took Judith from Maggie and when inside for a few moments. He came back out with Michonne, Glenn and Hershel.

Noticing Daryl came back worse than he went out, Hershel stepped towards him, intending to look over Daryl's wounds but Daryl stepped away, out of Hershel's reach, grimacing as he did so.

Hershel looked apologetically at the younger man, knowing how he could be funny with touch at times.

"What happened?" Glenn asked.

"Daryl ran into The Governor," Rick said.

Daryl saw the fear that filled the eyes of the others at the mention of his name and he looked down, knowing he was the cause of it.

"What? Is he coming here?" Glenn demanded.

Realising that he was the one the question was aimed at Daryl looked back up and shook his head, unknowing of the answer Glenn was seeking.

"What happened then?" Maggie asked moving to stand over next to Glenn. She felt safer beside him.

And Daryl was sure he just stared at her dumbfounded for a few moments because he didn't know what to say. "I..." Daryl let the word trail off, eyes searching Hershel for some answers.

Hershel seemed to understand the situation. "I take it he jumped you?"

And Daryl hastily nodded. "He musta. I don't... I don't know, really."

Michonne eyes narrowed at that, not quite sure she bought Daryl's reasoning. He was an observant man. He was hunting so he'd be listening and tracking. Her disbelief made her question him, though not as harshly as she could. "You didn't hear him?"

Daryl shook his head. "I just... I kinda get into hunting when I'm out there a while." He was relieved to see the others look like they were happy with his reasoning.

"So he just let you go?" Michonne pushed. "Because he sent your brother to kill me after I left Woodbury. And look what he did to everyone else there."

Daryl visibly bristled at the accusation and he didn't know how to defend himself from her attack. And whatever the others read from his look, they decided it was best to let the subject drop.

"We can discuss this later. We need to think about what we're going to tell everyone about this," Rick said, addressing the group.

And Daryl turned and headed inside, knowing that walking away wasn't going to help but not feeling like he could stand there a minute longer.

He missed the concerned gazed the others threw one another as he headed inside. Missed their whispered concerned words.

And he headed inside, keeping his head low and not being bothered by anyone the whole way through.

Hershel waited until things were settled down for the evening before he took some time away from the others.

The prefect distraction came when Glenn and Tyresse wanted to show the others the progress they'd made outside. And Hershel had already been out earlier on and was able to excuse himself to let the others go and leave him behind.

So with them gone, Hershel made his way up to Daryl's cell where he knew the man had taken refuge since he'd returned.

He used the crutch to tap on the bars of the cell, alerting Daryl to his presence.

Daryl's eyes darted up, having not noticed Hershel's approach. He wore a harsh look which softened slightly when he saw it was only Hershel stood there.

"May I?" Hershel asked, indicating to the chair just inside the door. Daryl gave him a simple nod and Hershel sat on the chair. "The others are outside, looking over the work done today. That's why I came to you now. I wanted to wait until there was some privacy. Rick and the others might not have noticed, but I did. I hid enough bloodstains from my Father's beatings to see it even when others wouldn't." Hershel paused, a little worried by the panic on Daryl's face. "Why don't you let me take a look while we have some privacy?"

Daryl's face contorted a little, almost into what Hershel would call a snarl but he pulled it back, stopped himself before he let the full distaste for that suggestion emerge.

"Daryl, I wouldn't break confidence with you ever. I've always felt that we shared something the others just can't understand. Except maybe Carol. I'd hope something that you couldn't talk to Rick about you could trust with me. But I know you're hurt and if I think you're holding out on me I'd have to talk to Rick about it. You know I don't want to do that, so please... work with me."

If it had been anyone but Hershel Daryl might have been tempted to strike them. But it was Hershel and he did like the old man.

He'd never done anything but help the group out. Daryl was grateful with the no nonsense way he'd treated him back when they were still on the farm and he;d been injured searching for Sophia.

He'd not batted an eyelid at the scars on Daryl's body and he'd not been too concerned about his missing horse, at least until he was sure Daryl was taken care of.

Daryl didn't look happy but he got off the bed and moved a blanket so it hung from the cell door so he'd have some privacy.

Daryl stood by the door beside Hershel and looked at the man for a moment. "Where's your bag?"

"Down in my room."

Daryl nodded and went to retrieve Hershel's bag, returning it to the vet's side as Hershel moved the chair beside the bed. He thanked Daryl as he opened the bag up and waited. He was unsure what he'd need without seeing the state Daryl was in. His reluctance at having Hershel look at him made the vet wonder what he was going to be faced with.

Daryl's hand hovered over the first button before he dropped his hand. "Don't say anything... not just to the others, I mean now. Just... do what you gotta do."

Hershel nodded though Daryl wasn't looking at him to see it. He unfastened his buttons before discarding the shirt and laying down on his stomach on the cot beside Hershel, Daryl's face turned away from the old man as he rested his head on his folded arms.. The vet had ignored Daryl while he undressed but as he lay down in front of him he saw the full horror that Daryl had hidden from them.

He had to fight the urge to say anything, an overwhelming anger surging through the old man at the sight before him. It wasn't what Daryl wanted, he reminded himself. So he grit his teeth and grabbed some alcohol wipes and got to work.

He had seen Daryl's scars before, hadn't been able to ignore them when he'd treated him at the farm but back then he'd been more detached from the man, from the whole group, really. Rick had started to get under his skin. Rick, Lori and Carl and how could they not when they were all but living with him? But he'd felt felt something stir within him as he saw the scars through the dirt covering Daryl. He had wondered at the time if the man kept himself so filthy so that he could hide them away slightly. Because Hershel noticed that while the man wasn't clean, he also wasn't truly dirty. He didn't smell as he might have if he'd been unclean, truly unclean.

So with those dirt covered, faded scars in his mind, Hershel was shocked by the state of the man in front of him.

Each scar that had healed over a long time ago had been cut back open, the scar tissue parted cruelly to make those old wounds bleed again.

A sick thing to do and he was troubled by the mind of a man who could do such a thing. If he was planning revenge on the group and this was the sort of level he'd stooped too, Hershel feared for them all.

Hershel wiped over each bloody, weeping wound in turn, gentle and careful to cause as little pain as possible. For his part, Daryl barely flinched throughout. Occasionally, where a wound was slightly deeper or in a more sensitive area Daryl would react on reflex but he quickly stilled himself and continued to lay silently, unmoving.

Part of him wished he'd never agreed to keep this whole thing quiet. He had several wipes bloody and used discarded on the floor before he started stitching the wounds up. Some weren't as bad as others.

He had a soothing ointment he could use on the burns just below Daryl's neck which he hoped would help with them and before long, he had all the old wounds stitched back up.

He knew how painful it was to go through scar tissue and he admired Daryl's resolve to stay silent as he worked.

But there was one mark that hadn't been there before. There was no ugly scar tissue around it like with Daryl's other wounds and this one was in the middle of his back. Hershel didn't think much about it, just stitched it up and continued.

When he was finished on Daryl's back he asked him to turn over when he was ready. He was surprised that Daryl didn't turn over straight away and needed a moment or two to compose himself.

He waited without comment, getting himself prepared for the next set of work he needed to do.

When he heard Daryl start to shuffle round, he quickly straightened his back to relieve the ache there before preparing himself to hunch back over the man again.

If anything, Daryl's chest didn't look as bad as his back. It was still littered with scars but there did seem to be fewer but there was more burns this side.

He was disgusted that The Governor went to those lengths to make Daryl suffer. He was literally opening up Daryl's old wounds and Hershel couldn't help but fear the damage it had caused the man.

Before he started with the wipes, Hershel stopped short, seeing a mark in the centre of Daryl's chest just like on his back.

He was stumped by it.

The Governor had done nothing else but retrace Daryl's old scars and if he wished, he could have done a lot more damage to Daryl than he had. He could easily have killed him, so why did he choose to add just two new scars to Daryl?

Before he could ponder it any more, he heard a voice call out to him. Footsteps heading his way made the old man scramble to collect his crutches from the floor and he hobbled to the cell door to intercept whoever was looking for him.

He met Rick at the door. He was waiting outside, no intention of crossing the threshold, understanding Daryl's privacy as well as Hershel did.

There must have been something about the look on Hershel's face that troubled Rick because he shot him a questioning glance. Hershel just shook his head, willing Rick not to bring anything up right now and Rick got the hint.

"When you get a minute, can you come and see Johnathan. One of the Woodbury kids had a bit of a fall earlier. He seems fine but, just to be safe."

Hershel nodded, "Of course. Let me just..." and before he could say another word, the blanket that was at the door fell down. Hershel reached for it in a panic and Daryl's vulnerability being exposed even just to Rick, but then he realised it was being pulled inwards and it was Daryl that held it in his arms. His shirt was back on and covering any traces of the abuse his body had suffered.

"Go see the kid. We're done." Daryl assured him.

Rick walked away, leaving the pair to it as Hershel tried to assess Daryl's frame of mind. He quickly realised that he wouldn't be able to do anything else for him, not if Daryl didn't want him too and he went to his bag, fishing around for the lotion and also a bottle of painkillers. He handed them to Daryl, who stared at them in his hands like he had no idea why he'd been given them.

"The lotion will sooth any irritation from the burns and you should take the painkillers if you find it too uncomfortable to sleep."

And because he knew that even that was too much for Daryl right now, Hershel left the man alone.

Daryl knew that he should have let Hershel finish up.

But he could almost feel the man's anger as he worked on his back silently and when he'd finished up and asked Daryl to turn over, Daryl had surprised himself with the moisture leaking from his eyes.

Not from pain but the humiliation of being that weak.

Because The Governor hadn't killed him. He'd killed Merle and he'd killed Andrea, but he'd just mocked him. Cut him open slowly, laughing at Daryl inability to fight back.

And Daryl hated The Governor for it, but not as much as he hated himself. Because he'd swore if he ever got near the man again he'd kill him for what he did to Merle. And the first contact they had with one another since then and The Governors holding him down, butchering him and telling him how happy Merle must be to be rid of him.

Death was better than the burden Daryl was.

And death was too good for Daryl. He told him he killed Merle because he was a threat. Killed Andrea because she would have killed him given the chance. But not Daryl.

He was weak.

Always waiting for his brother to do what needed doing.

The Governor had even told him how when he killed Merle he was waiting for a bolt to strike him down, because he was sure Daryl would have been there too, beside his brother, because that was what Merle had wanted. But when Merle's cold dead body started to rise there was still no sign of him, and The Governor had realised that Merle had picked the wrong side.

He'd picked his weak brother.

And he'd died because of that weakness.

And to top it all off, he'd mocked Merle's death by scarring Daryl with a wound exactly where he'd shot Merle in the chest, even adding an exit wound. It wasn't like he could think of anything but Merle most of the time, let alone having to be reminded of him whenever he saw his own body.

He was surprised the others had dropped the issue as quickly as they had. He knew Michonne was angry with him. She wanted her revenge on the man. Glenn too. And he'd done nothing. Been powerless to even mar the man's skin. He hoped they never found out about this, he wasn't sure he would live it down.

He hadn't even managed to get a good shot in, The Governor, slamming his face into a tree several times until things got a little dark and shaky and then the other men had been on him, taken him down to the ground and held him while The Governor did the rest.

Merle would have been ashamed of him.

He was ashamed of himself. Wasn't sure how he'd deal with it the next time Hershel tried to question him.

It was late now and the sky had grown dark, so sleeping wasn't unreasonable. He tucked the blankey so it hung over the door again and then sat on the bed, hoping to be as discreet as he could, just in case anyone came peeking round the door, he undid the shirt buttons again and rubbed the lotion over the burns. It did help a little, although the stinging from the cuts was greater. He was going to treat his back too, but he figured that was too much effort, so instead he fastened his buttons back up on the front, popped some painkillers in his mouth, swallowing them dry and he lay down and hoped that he'd get some sleep.

A/N: So that's it. I know it just kinda ends but, there was no plot to the story. I didn't want 'people console Daryl' and he really had nothing else to say.
I'd also like to point out that when I started this, besides from the scars Daryl was going to have a bigger secret hiding from what The Governor did to him, but decided not to go there. That's just how dark and evil my mind is though. :D