Chapter Text
Rick kept thinking back on what he might have done differently. But in the end, didn't matter how they were captured, just that they were. Only thing that mattered now was getting out.
He might've wondered why the Governor was keeping him locked up in this little room, no interrogation, no pain, no contact. But Rick knew enough to know it was a tactic. Isolate them, Daryl and he, and then make them wait. Make them worry. Let the fear stew and then when the person was ready to crack, bring in the threat and the chance to avoid it. Good cop, bad cop.
Rick had never been sure which role he played.
He was ready when the Governor walked in, the door creaking like a warning as it opened. Not ready to play into his hands and beg for mercy. Not ready to resist torture.
Ready.
Rick rushed him. He kept his head tucked down, his hands balled into fists. Element of surprise might've worked too. But Rick had been expecting a gun, one little thing to avoid and to grab for, to wrestle out of the Governor's hands. He didn't guess the threat would be something as simple as a baton rising up in the air and slamming down on his back.
Crumpled on the floor and his one chance gone, Rick blinked up at his captor. The Governor smiled, slow and sure. “Now, Rick, you ready to stop this nonsense?”
Rick refused to speak, pushing himself up off the floor. Better to let the Governor talk to himself. He might reveal something useful.
“Good,” the Governor said as if Rick had bowed his head and apologized for the attack. He leaned in. “Because you've got a choice to make.”
Something settled in Rick's stomach, a warning that things just went from bad to worse. But he only watched and waited.
“Now,” drawled the Governor, “I can walk over to that other room and put a bullet in your friend's brain.”
Did Rick's eyes narrow? Did his heart speed up so fast the bastard standing in front of him could hear it? Did the fear show on his face? Rick did his best to mask it all, tell himself this was just talk. But all he could see was Daryl's lifeless body and a world of potential gone with him.
“But you're a man of the law,” he went on to Rick. “You used to put a stop to things like this every day of your life, didn't you? So I think you ought to have the chance now. You wanna save Daryl's life, here's what you're gonna do...”
The words were accompanied by a growing buzz in Rick's head. He could see the Governor's lips moving, knew in a part of him what was being said. But the horror inside him came out as silence around him.
Strong hands gripped Rick by the shoulders and walked him out of the room. A gun was pointed at his head for real this time. No chance of escape, as if he would run and leave Daryl here anyway.
If Rick thought it'd spare Daryl what was coming he'd have let the assholes shoot him dead. But someone else – probably multiple someones – would just take his place. Daryl would never be free. At least this way they'd still be in it all together.
“Daryl,” Rick breathed as the next door opened slowly and there was his best friend in this world, face a mess with already-forming bruises and swelling. His hands were tied behind his back. No shirt, maybe broken ribs by the look of it. And one more thing: the fight in his eyes. It was still there. And Rick knew he was about to put it out.
“Leave,” the Governor nodded to his people. They put up a mild protest, suggesting Rick and Daryl were dangerous. But the Governor sent them away.
Good, Rick thought. Maybe he was underestimating them. But then again, maybe he just knew the power of cold steel in his hands, pointed at their heads.
Then the Governor was walking toward Daryl in a few swift feet.
“Hey!” Rick shouted. He moved just as fast to intercept.
“Now, now... I'm not gonna hurt your boy here,” the Governor said softly as he reached out with one hand to cup Daryl's face. “Just wanna take a look at this job they did on him. Wouldn't want him passing out in the middle, would we?” Daryl jerked back and Rick waited for one wrong move to send him forward in a rush. Didn't matter if he got shot in the process. He wasn't letting the Governor touch any of his people again.
Rick gave Daryl credit. The man had balls. Daryl pulled back his head and he spat right in the Governor's face.
The Governor went stone still. “Fine. Let's get on with it then.”
“Get on with what?” Daryl asked.
The Governor turned his head toward Rick. Rick was going to be sick.
“I'm so sorry,” he mumbled at Daryl. It was the loudest he could get his voice. He had to do better, to sound sure and confident. For Daryl. “I promise I'll make it quick.”
Rick realized from the look of him that Daryl didn't have a clue. He thought they were talking about death here. Threats of death didn't scare Daryl. Just pissed him off. Sure enough, Daryl growled at the Governor, “Can't even do your own dirty work, huh?”
The Governor smirked. “You're not really my type, son.”
Rick locked eyes on Daryl, trying to silently communicate as they so often did out in the world. But there was such naivety in Daryl's look that it hurt to see. Daryl was a fighter. A man who wouldn't mind dying so much if he went out in battle, if he died to save his friends. Daryl could take a beating like no other. But this... this degradation, that it could happen to him, wasn't even occurring.
Rick felt tears prickle at his eyes.
Daryl went pale. “Rick...” he breathed. “What's happening here?”
“It was the only choice,” Rick forced himself to say.
“What was?” Daryl demanded.
Rick swallowed back bile. “Take off your pants, Daryl,” he whispered. “Go bend over the table. It'll be over soon.”
Now he got it. Rick could see. Daryl's face twisted up in disgust and, still, disbelief. “Fuck you!”
“Other way around, actually,” called out the Governor. “See, this isn't about you, boy. This here's between Rick and I. You don't matter. Just the thing he has to fuck, the thing that's going to prove to Rick that's he no different from me. Of course... it doesn't have to be you. Your group's without a leader right now. I could have my pick. Just send my people in and pluck someone else out. I'll leave it up to you. Should I go find that sweet little blonde girl, maybe? Or how about Glenn? Haven't seen him in a while.”
Rick knew better than to rise the bait. Rick knew exactly how this was going to go. Daryl, on the other hand, went still and tense. “You touch a hair on their heads, I'll cut off your dick myself.”
Rick closed his eyes. Told himself that unlike Beth or Glenn, Daryl would get over this. Daryl could take what the world threw at him and come out the same man, just a little tougher for it. Rick wasn't going to destroy him.
“Daryl,” Rick spoke up before the Governor could add any more punishment to Daryl's body. “Please... don't make me fight you. Please. I don't wanna hurt you.”
What a fucked up thing to say, Rick thought. When he's about to... about to... Shit, Rick couldn't even think the word.
Daryl looked as sick suddenly as Rick had been feeling. An animal trapped in a cage. The reality of the situation dawning on him. Rick imagined this was the type of thing Daryl was brought up to believe only happened to women. So what's it mean now? Daryl couldn't fathom this fate for himself, it seemed.
Rick knew he had to do something. He stepped up and clapped a hand down on Daryl's shoulder. Daryl flinched back and a stone settled in Rick's stomach. Already they weren't what they used to be. This was going to tear their friendship apart. But maybe that's all it would tear, Rick thought. Just as long as Daryl remained whole, Rick... Rick could live without Daryl by his side. If he had to.
Rick didn't back down. He kept his hand steady, brought it up to cup Daryl's neck and pull him in. Daryl's eyes went wide. Shit, Rick thought. Daryl thought Rick was gonna kiss him. Instead Rick just touched his forehead to Daryl's. “You can do this,” he whispered. “I know you can.”
Daryl stayed tense for another minute, but slowly his shoulders slumped. His breathing evened out. And something flashed in his eyes and hardened, and Rick knew he'd succeeded: it was now another fight, just like any supply run, a mission. Something that needed doing and so it'll get done. That's just how Rick and Daryl worked.
Slowly Daryl limped over to the table in the center of the room. Rick saw that his hands weren't tied behind his back. They were cuffed.
Rick moved to help him out of his pants. He wasn't wearing underwear. Rick's cock hardened and it was all he could do not to be sick at the groan building inside him as Daryl's smooth, pale ass presented itself to the room.
The Governor's cold laugh brought Rick back to reality. “There's a good boy,” he called out. “See? Not so hard.” His eyes flicked to the bulge in Rick's pants. “Well, figuratively speaking.”
“Don't listen to him, Daryl,” Rick said. “Just me. Just my voice.”
Rick was standing behind Daryl now and he placed his hand in the center of Daryl's back – to hold him there and to ground him. Rick wished it was more the latter than the former.
Daryl shuddered.
“Shh,” Rick murmured without thinking better of it. Daryl when he got back in his right mind would be offended if Rick babied him through this. Well... tough. Rick was gonna be as careful as he could.
“Just do it,” Daryl mumbled through clenched teeth, his face pressed into the table like he wanted to sink into it.
He got what Daryl was asking. Don't make a big deal of it. Make it just something to survive. Didn't Rick owe him that much?
But Rick was freezing up. He couldn't stop the small circles he was rubbing on Daryl's back anymore than he could stop the flow of blood to below his waist at the way Daryl's warmth and his tensed muscles felt. Desperation boiled inside. Rick's eyes shifted around the room, over to the Governor, to the gun in his hand and the smile on his face, to the cold metal biting into Daryl's wrists and keeping him from being an asset to a fight.
No wonder the Governor had thrown out his people, his guards. Rick and Daryl weren't a threat. Daryl... God, Daryl. What the hell was Rick doing?
Rick's eyes flooded and he couldn't see anything but a muted mix of colors around the darkened room. He choked on a sob.
Daryl twisted his head around and it sounded like begging when he said, “Don't.”
Don't what? Don't make this worse? Don't show weakness? That sounded like Daryl. But all Rick could hear was don't do this to me. That had to be in Daryl's mind. Or was it in Rick's mind that it was racing through, shouting out?
“How about a little motivation?” The Governor walked closer and around the table so that he was facing Daryl head on. He'd see everything, every flash of pain and despair that crossed Daryl's face, Rick thought hopelessly. “Either you take him, and you take him now... or I get some real men in here to do it for you.”
“Rick...” Daryl ground out, but it was just a little too high-pitched. Rick reckoned know one would know but him. But there it was: Daryl was scared.
Rage replaced grief. Rick was going to kill the bastard. He was gonna do it slowly too.
But right now Rick had to take care of Daryl. Only one way to do it. Rick had to rape him.
The little four letter word released to fill his head now with its full meaning, Rick could move again. It was real. It was horrible and disgusting, but this was reality and Rick couldn't stand there like it was a nightmare.
He let go of Daryl and dropped his hands to the button on his jeans. Rick wasn't going to push them all the way down, just enough to let his cock free. But if Daryl had to be exposed, then so should he. Rick pushed down pants and underwear to around his knees.
There. His cock was exposed to the air around them, cool in comparison to the heat his traitorous body was giving off. He was hard. Wouldn't have to do anything to get himself that way. For a second Rick considered pretending. He could jerk himself off, just enough to make it seem like he had to prepare. Let Daryl cling to the illusion that this didn't get him off all on its own.
But no. That was just another way to waste time. Daryl had told Rick what he needed: he needed to get this over with, with some dignity intact. Okay then. No dragging it out. No words of concern. Okay.
Rick took a shaking breath and took his heavy cock in hand to line it up with Daryl's entrance. The swollen head pressed up against pressure. And Daryl freaked out.
The younger man (who wasn't really much different in age to Rick, but God did he seem young now) gasped out loud, eyes scrunching shut. He pressed in closer to the table, just one inch further away from Rick and his cock trying to get inside. It suddenly occurred to Rick that Daryl, rough and loud and redneck and tough as nails Daryl, was innocent in this area. He'd never been taken by a man before.
Rick shoulda guessed that. Those few nights when he'd let his hand wander to his cock and images of his friend had come into his head uninvited, Rick had just pictured a little physical comfort. He never stopped to think about it. That with Daryl's background this was liable to be somethin' the man would never have considered back when the world was full of judging eyes and angry people.
It didn't really make a difference anyway. This wasn't sex. This was force. Didn't matter if Daryl had been taking it up the ass for years, this time would still hurt, would still feel awful, would still make something horrifying and sickening bubble up inside them both.
He'd never tell Daryl, but it made Rick want to protect him. Keep him safe. Wrap him up in Rick's arms.
Instead, Rick was about to fuck him. He gripped Daryl by the hips. Definitely holding him down now. No illusion about it. Rick looked up and met the Governor's eyes. The other man grinned, nice and slow. Rick made a promise with his eyes: I will kill you.
And then Rick slammed his cock into Daryl's tight heat. There was resistance like hell and something was probably tearing inside Daryl, but Rick couldn't let it stop him. No way to make this good. No chance Daryl was ever going to relax. Just needed to get it over with.
Daryl shouted. Screamed, was more like it. But Rick was gonna give Daryl the dignity of calling it shouting. Just like he was gonna ignore the sob that rose up in the gasp Daryl took.
Didn't matter how tough a man was, this shit would break him. Rick had seen it enough times, on enough victims of every age, sex, and race. He promised himself he could fix it this time. This time, he could help. He would put Daryl back together again when it was over.
In the meantime, Rick did the only thing he could do. He bent over Daryl, chest to back. He thrust between Daryl's legs and, God, was the man tight. It was almost painful. Shit. Rick had no right thinking that. Not when this really was agony for the man trying so hard to stay still beneath him.
Daryl wasn't exactly succeeding. He kept shifting his hips like he wanted to push Rick right out of him. Rick could feel him trembling too.
Rick had no idea how long he fucked Daryl for. It was a parody of sex. He was intensely aware of the motions. Back and forth, in and out. Little breathy moans of pain kept escaping Daryl's mouth.
Shit, why couldn't it be over already? Rick let his head fall, touching Daryl's shoulder. “I can't--” he tried to whisper and broke off. “I'm trying. But I can't.”
Rick hadn't said much, but Daryl got it. His response made Rick want to cry. Daryl started moving his hips. Just a little at first, then more so. He pushed back, pressing flush against Rick's own. He twisted in little movements that sent vibrations throughout Rick's whole body and would have just about killed him it felt so good in any other situation. But Rick got what was going on. Daryl wanted this over as much as him, more probably.
Rick closed his eyes and tried to just feel. Not feel like he was about to throw up all over the cement floor, not feel like taking a gun to the Governor, not feel the way Daryl's shoulders rose and fell in sobs that he refused to let out. No, just feel Daryl. Rick let the heat engulf his cock and his mind and he came silently, going as deep as he'd been yet into Daryl.
Rick collapsed forward, his weight on Daryl.
“Well, well,” the Governor said from above them. “See? I knew you had it in you, Rick. Just like I said. You did a fine job with him.” He looked down at Daryl. “There now... It's over. You took it well.” He reached out and Rick saw his hand going to the top of Daryl's head.
Didn't matter if the Governor intended to snap his neck or just brush his fingers through Daryl's sweat-matted hair. Rick shoved himself off the table, pulling out of Daryl and not taking the care he should have. Daryl groaned, but lay limp on the table. “Don't you fucking touch him.”
The Governor laughed. “No, I don't suppose I will. Used goods, after all.” He walked to the door, gun still carefully drawn. “You boys have earned a night. Sleep it off.” He smiled. “I'll be back first thing in the morning. It's time you and I tried that chat again, Rick. I think you'll see things more my way now.”