Chapter Text
“Carl?” Daryl asks softly, glancing over at the teenager sitting next to him in the passenger seat. Daryl can’t help but notice his body’s tense, hands clenched into tight fists, as he looks out the window. He’s been staring out the window, gaze wandering every which way, since they’d gotten into the car and it was starting to unnerve Daryl. “You okay?”
“Hm?” Carl snaps out of his daydream and turns to look at Daryl. “Yeah,” he says softly, smiling. Daryl can’t help but notice it doesn't meet his eyes. “Just tired.”
Daryl frowns, watching Carl for a few more seconds, before he shifts his focus back towards the road. The stoplight turns green and Daryl urges the car forward, mind wondering. Daryl's no genius, but he definitely knows his family and it’s clear to see that Carl’s lying to him.
The car is silent for the rest of the car ride, only the sound of Judith singing along to the radio in the back seat can be heard. A few minutes later Daryl and the kids pull up in front of Shane and Lori’s house, a decent sized white house with a wraparound porch.
Daryl parks the car and Judith unbuckles her seat belt. “Love you, Papa,” she says excitedly. Judith presses a kiss against Daryl’s cheek and hurries out of the car.
“Love you, be good,” Daryl yells after her. He watches as she runs over to where Lori and Shane are sitting on a porch swing, watching their four-year-old twins, Noah and Nathan, play together in the front yard.
Carl doesn't make a move to get out, just watches Judith run towards Lori, and Daryl takes it upon himself to bring up the conversation again. “Hey,” Daryl says, resting a hand on Carl’s shoulder, and Carl turns to look at him.
Daryl can’t tell if his mind is playing tricks on him or what but for a second it almost looks like there’s anguish in his eyes. In a matter of seconds it’s gone and a cheerful smile takes its place. Daryl doesn’t buy it for a second. “You’d tell me if there’s something wrong, right? You can talk to me about anything, you know that.”
Carl swallows painfully, like he's preparing himself for some kind of speech. It's clear he's about to talk, his mouth is open and his lips are poised to speak, but he’s cut off by a knock on the window.
Shane’s standing there, shaved head glistening with sweat from the hot sun overhead, with his arm raised towards the window. Once he's got the attention of both Carl and Daryl, Shane opens the door and nods a greeting. “Hey Daryl, Carl,” he says, smiling. “You need help bringing stuff in?”
“No,” Carl says, hostility in his voice. He throws his bag over his shoulder and pushes past Shane, none to nicely. Daryl’s surprised, shocked really. He’s never heard Carl talk to someone like that, especially not to Shane. He’s always had some kind of respect for the man, despite the fact that he’s basically the one who broke up his parents’ marriage.
A look of rage crosses Shane’s features, gaze trained straight at Carl’s retreating figure, and Daryl narrows his eyes. He doesn't like that look on Shane's face, especially not when it's directed at his kid.
“Teenagers,” Shane says with a chuckle, shaking his head nonchalantly as if they were suddenly two dads playfully bashing their children together. Daryl’s got to fight back the urge to punch him. “Think they’re better than everyone.”
“Yeah,” Daryl says, giving Shane a forced smile.
“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Shane says, resting a hand on the hood of Daryl’s car as he bends down so he can see Daryl clearly. “On Sunday, can you pick the kids up a little bit earlier? We’re having a birthday dinner for the twins with my parents, you know how they feel about Carl and Judith.”
Daryl can tell that Shane’s tone is meant to be light, dismissive, but all it does is make him want to put him in a choke hold. Those were Daryl’s kids he was talking about, referring to them like they were nothing more than unwanted guests, and Daryl can feel his protective side start to emerge.
He figures Shane cares about them, even if it’s in some twisted way that makes no sense to anyone but him, but Shane doesn’t see them as an extension of his family, at least not anymore. He did back when Lori and Rick had first gotten a divorce, when the two of them had been locked in a wicked custody battle over Judith and Carl. Judith had only been a baby and Shane, and Lori really, had been convinced he was Judith's biological father. It'd been a possibility, after all Lori had cheated on Rick before she had gotten pregnant, but thank God she had been Rick's kid.
During the custody battle Shane testified in Lori’s favor, claiming she deserved full custody despite the fact she was crazy as a loon. But Lori wasn't fit to be a full time mother, wasn't fit to be much of anything really, and Rick had been granted custody. Afterwards, she’d gotten help, turned her life around, and her and Rick were able to work out an informal custody agreement where she got the kids on the weekends.
Daryl reckons Shane had cared about Judith and Carl in the beginning, when he had no kids of his own and was hell-bent on taking Rick's place. But once those twins were born, Daryl had watched his position change. They’re biologically his, you couldn't blame him for feeling differently. He just hated how Shane had tossed Judith and Carl to the side, like they were nothing but some seasonal fling. Daryl would never do that to them, could never do that. Those were his kids just as much as they were Rick's, and he'd be around even if he and Rick broke up.
Shane wasn't outright about his favoritism, he's careful enough to include Carl and Judith most of the time, and generally does a good job of looking like a caring step dad. But then there were times like these, where he purposefully excluded Judith and Carl from family events. In Daryl’s opinion, you don’t exclude your kids from their half-brother’s birthday dinner simply because your parents don’t like them. He didn’t understand it, would never understand it, and he can’t understand why Lori went along with it every year.
“Sure,” Daryl says, fake smile effortlessly shifting into place. “I’ll tell Rick to be here ‘round two, if that works for ya.”
“Perfect,” Shane says. He taps his hand against the hood of the car and steps back. “Thanks Daryl, see you Sunday.”
“Yep,” Daryl says, and Shane shuts the passenger side door. Daryl watches as Judith and Carl trudge inside, frown on his face. There was something definitely wrong with Carl, and he was going to find out what.
Carl steps inside the house, mind still reeling from what had happened in the car. He watches Judith, Nathan, and Noah head straight for the backyard, laughing and giggling as they chase after each other. It’s a reminder of why he puts up with what Shane does to him, of why he keeps it a secret. With Shane's focus on him, he doesn't need to go after them. He's keeping this secret to protect them, after all that’s his job. Not that he thinks Shane would go after them, Carl knows they’re too young. But in a few years, when they age up a little, who knows what’ll happen.
His Mom heads towards the kitchen, probably to start dinner, and Carl turns down the hall towards his bedroom. He’s almost there when he feels familiar hands on him, gripping at his skin hard enough to leave finger shaped bruises. Really he should have been expecting it, Shane doesn’t take kindly to disrespect and he’ll definitely see what Carl did in the car as disrespect.
Carl’s slammed against the wall with a loud thud, force of impact shaking the decorations above his head. He rams into the wall, back erupting in pain. His entire body feels like it’s on fire, and Carl has to bite back a scream.
“Carl are you okay?” Lori calls from the kitchen.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he calls back, no need to incite worry within her. The last thing he needs is for her to come investigate. “Just tripped.”
“Be more careful next time."
Carl’s about to say something back when he feels one of Shane’s hands clamp tightly over his mouth, stopping any words he was about to say. Panic rises in Carl, his eyes going wide as fear grabs ahold of his heart.
“If you ever pull that shit again in front of anyone, I will make you regret it. You don’t disrespect me like that,” Shane growls, face merely inches away from Carl’s. "You fucking piece of shit, you always screw everything up. Do you want to make this worse on yourself, are you trying to make me angry?"
His breath carries an overwhelming stench of alcohol, these days Shane consumes copious amounts of alcohol, and Carl’s finding it harder and harder to breath as Shane’s arm remains on his windpipe. He has to physically fight back the urge to pull away from his touch, he knows it’s always worse if he pulls away.
Carl shakes his head, too afraid to say anything. He tries to speak but Shane’s forearm is pressed against his windpipe, his other hand clamped tightly over his mouth, making it hard for him to do anything. Carl knows he’s about to run out of air when Shane’s hands move from his neck to his hips, gripping them tightly.
Carl takes a deep breath, trying to hide his heavy breathing, and eventually gets his breathing under control. Their bodies are flush against each other, Carl can feel every disgusting inch of his body against his, and he’s finding it hard not to pull away.
“Good,” Shane growls, low enough so that no one else can hear him. He digs his fingernails into the skin that covers Carl’s hips, hard enough to draw blood. His eyes roam over Carl’s face, and suddenly he comes to a realization. “You were gonna tell him, weren’t you? You were going to tell Daryl everything.”
Carl shakes his head frantically, the last thing he wants is for Shane to think he was about to tell Daryl what’s been happening to him, but he can tell Shane’s not buying it. He’s a cop, he knows when people are lying.
“You’re lying,” Shane says, his voice getting dangerously low and that’s when Carl knows just how pissed off he is. “Do I need to remind you what’ll happen if you tell anyone? Daryl and Rick, you like living with them don’t you?”
“Please,” Carl says, swallowing painfully. “I-”
“Save it,” Shane says, pulling away from him. “I can’t stand to be near you anymore. I'll deal with you later, make sure you’re ready. Now go, I don’t want to see you again for the rest of the day.”
Carl doesn't say another word, just frantically clambers away from him, and heads towards his bedroom door. In a matter of seconds he’s in his room with the door slamming shut behind him.
“Stop slamming the damn door,” Shane yells at him, but Carl can’t find the energy to care. His heart is hammering in his chest so hard it hurts and he can feel his palms start to sweat.
Carl rests against the closed door, trying to regain his breath. He can hear Shane walk into the kitchen, can hear his ‘loving father’ voice kick on as he talks to his mother, and suddenly he has the urge to vomit. How he could he act so innocent in front of so many people when he did such horrible things to him behind closed doors he’d never understand.
Carl had been so close to confessing to Daryl what’s been going on for months now, so fucking close to relaying to him the hell he’s been through, but Shane had shown up and ruined everything. He now remembered why he couldn't tell anyone, not ever. If Shane ever found out he had told he’d make life a living hell, both for him and the people he cared about.
He’d just have to deal with it, let Shane do whatever the hell he wanted to him, in order to protect the people he loves. He can’t risk the possibility of something horrible happening to his siblings, something happening to Daryl or his dad, or losing his mother if anyone found out. He'd just have to take it; he could take it. Right?
Daryl picks the kids up on Sunday, right on time. Rick’s usually the one who does it, but he’d been unexpectedly called into work a little over an hour ago. Judith and Carl are outside waiting for him when he gets there. He honks to get their attention and the two of them start heading towards his car.
It doesn't take a genius to realize something’s wrong with the both of them. Judith doesn't look up from her shoes the entire walk from the front steps to the car, and Carl’s gait looks wonky and lopsided. “Hey,” Daryl says once they get in, to which he receives less than enthusiastic responses.
“Hey,” Judith says, voice sounding so dejected it nearly makes Daryl’s chest hurt.
Carl doesn't say anything, just twitches his lips into what’s supposed to be a smile before he turns his gaze towards the window.
Now Daryl knows he’s not the best when it comes to picking up people’s emotions, but he does know Judith and Carl and he can tell something is definitely wrong. “Something wrong, Judith?” Daryl asks, glancing at her in the rearview mirror.
She only shrugs before she turns towards the window, not making another sound. Daryl frowns, but doesn't make a move to get her to talk. He’d have Rick try and talk to her once he got home, he’s usually better at getting the kids to open up.
“Carl you okay?” Daryl asks, glancing over at the kid sitting in the passenger seat.
“I wish you would stop asking me that,” Carl says, his voice breaking off at the end. Daryl can tell it’s not meant to be hostile, but that doesn't make him feel any better about it.
“Alright,” Daryl says, turning his focus back towards the road. “I’ll leave you alone then.”
The ride after that is silent, Judith isn't even singing along to the radio. Clearly something had happened this weekend, and Daryl would be damned if he let his kids suffer through this alone. He’s going to get to the bottom of this once and for all.
Daryl’s been by himself since the three of them had gotten home, Rick’s still at work and neither one of the kids had come out of their rooms. It’s usual for Carl to lock himself in his room, the kid hardly ever came out these days, but Judith’s never acted like this before. He can’t get the look she’d had on her face when she’d gotten in the car out of his head, it’s the only thing he can think about, and he knows it means something horrible had to have happened.
Once it hits five o’clock with no word from Judith, Daryl figures he’s got to check on her. Usually by now she was all over him, begging him to play candy land or asking what they’re having for dinner, but he hasn't seen her since they'd gotten home. He’d been trying to give her some space, let her work herself out of the mood she was in, but clearly that had been the wrong call.
Daryl makes his way upstairs, heading directly towards Judith’s room. He passes by Carl’s room on his way, the loud sound of Carl’s music can be heard from the hallway, and decides he’s going to try and have another conversation with him once he’s done talking to Judith.
“Hey Jude,” Daryl calls out, knocking on her bedroom door hesitantly. When there’s no answer he pushes open the door and finds her sitting at the table in the corner of the room. There’s half colored drawings all over the table and the floor around her, at least twenty of them scattered in disarray, and Daryl frowns.
“Judith,” Daryl tries again, but still Judith doesn't answer him. He’s got half a mind to call Rick, tell him to get his ass home, because Judith only got like this when something was seriously wrong.
Daryl walks further into the room and catches sight of the drawings scattered around her. The pictures are dark and angry, not the usual colorful pictures she drew, and it’s hard to clearly distinguish what they are. Daryl picks one up off the floor and studies it a bit closer. There’s a picture there, but it’s hard to make out under the red scribbles that take up almost the entire page.
“Judith, what’s the matter?” Daryl asks, kneeling next to her. Judith’s at the table, new drawing sitting in front of her. She’s got a red crayon in her hand, scribbling so hard it ends up breaking under the force. Judith stares at it for a few seconds before she lets it fall to the ground, turning to face Daryl.
Daryl catches sight of her face and his heart breaks when he realizes she’s crying, thick tears pouring down her cheeks. Suddenly he’s got an armful of crying eight-year-old clinging tightly to him, her face buried in his chest as she tightens her grip around his neck.
“Papa,” she sobs, voice hitching as she tries to hold back her tears. He’s never seen her like this, terrified and sobbing, and suddenly every protective instinct in Daryl is flaring up.
“Shh,” he hushes softly, hands smoothing up and down Judith’s back in an attempt to get her to calm down. “S’alright baby, yer okay. Can ya tell me what’s wrong?”
Judith shakes her head frantically, her sobs getting more out of control. “No, I can’t,” she says, voice almost pleading with him not to ask again.
“Hey,” Daryl says, voice gentle. He has every intention of figuring out what’s wrong with his daughter, but right now he knows getting her to calm down is more important than anything. “Yer alright, jus' calm down.” They sit like that for a few more minutes, Judith sobbing into Daryl’s neck as he runs his hands up and down her back.
Eventually Judith’s shaking subsides and she stops crying. It’s a while before she speaks again, her voice raw from all the crying she’s been doing. “I saw a bad thing today,” Judith whispers, voice so quiet Daryl can hardly hear her. “A really bad thing.”
Daryl frowns, slightly confused, but he knows asking her right now isn't going to accomplish anything. It’d most likely send her back into her sobbing fit. “You know ya can tell me anything, even if ya think it’ll get you in trouble? I’ll never be mad at you, Judith.”
Daryl can feel Judith nod against his chest and he pulls back slightly so he can look at her. Daryl smiles softly and swipes his fingers over her cheeks, trying his best to wipe at her tears. “When you see bad stuff happening, you have to tell a grown up so they can help ya. Keepin' secrets will only make everythin' worse.”
“I don’t want to get in trouble,” Judith says softly.
Daryl sighs, pressing a kiss against her forehead. “Yer not in trouble, no matter what. How ‘bout we go downstairs, I get ya some milk and cookies, and you tell me what ya saw?” Daryl realizes it’s probably not a good idea to bribe his kid with milk and cookies, but right now he’d do just about anything to get Judith to talk.
Judith takes a long time to answer but finally she nods her head. “Okay.”
“Okay,” Daryl says, standing up. He helps Judith up and she automatically grabs on to his hand. The two of them head downstairs and into the kitchen. Daryl gets Judith situated on a stool at their island counter, before he pours her a glass of milk and grabs a couple of cookies. He sets the cookies and milk down in front of her, before sitting on the stool beside her.
She doesn't talk right away but Daryl’s okay with that, he can be patient. He watches as Judith absentmindedly chews on a cookie. She’s almost entirely finished with it before she finally starts talking. “I don’t want you to get mad,” Judith says softly.
“I won’ get mad at ya, baby,” Daryl says honestly. “Yer not in trouble, okay? I jus' need to know the bad thing you saw today.”
“You told me that if anyone ever touches me down there,” Judith says after a few seconds of complete silence, “that I should tell someone, right?”
Daryl feels ice flow through his veins and dread settle in the pit of his stomach. He clenches his fists tightly together, fingernails creating half-moons on the palms of his hands, as he tries to get control of his emotions. If anyone had touched Judith, had even thought about touching Judith, he’d kill them.
“Did someone touch you?” Daryl asks, bile rising in the back of his throat at the very thought of something like that happening. He’s trying to keep his voice calm, not wanting Judith to think he was mad at her, but his body is so tight and tense he can hardly sit still.
Judith shakes her head frantically, and for a second Daryl is relieved. But that's when her eyes start darting around the room, not able to focus on anything, and he knows there’s something she’s not telling him. “Jude, why don’ you jus' tell me what ya saw okay?”
Judith nods and looks down at the table. “I was supposed to be outside playing,” Judith says softly. “I wasn't supposed to go inside. Mommy took Nathan and Noah to the store, I couldn't go 'cause you were going to be there soon, and Shane told me to go outside. He said he had to talk to Carl in private and that I wasn't to go inside for any reason.”
Judith stops for a second and dread settles in Daryl’s stomach once more. He’s got a feeling he knows exactly what Judith is about to tell him, and it isn’t good. “I was outside for a long time but I got thirsty. I know I wasn't supposed to go inside, Shane gets mad when I don’t listen, but I just wanted a drink of water Papa, that’s it.”
“Hey,” Daryl says. He can tell Judith’s near hysterics again so he scoots a little closer to her and runs a hand through her hair. “It’s okay, you’re not in trouble.”
“I snuck in and was almost to the kitchen when I heard arguing coming from Carl’s room. I shouldn't have spied, but I just wanted to see if Carl was okay. I peeked into the room. They were yelling and Carl tried to get away, but Shane grabbed his arm so he couldn't. He hit him and pushed him down onto the bed and then, and then Shane,” Judith’s voice breaks off, hitching as she tries to calm herself down.
“You’re doing okay,” Daryl says softly, rubbing a hand down Judith’s back. He’s got a good idea of where this was going and despite the fact that Daryl wants nothing more than to find Shane and beat his face in, he’s got to hear the full story. “Yer okay, 'm not mad, jus' tell me what happened next.”
“Shane pulled down Carl’s pants. He tried to get away but he couldn't, Shane wouldn't let him,” Judith says, breaking down once again. Daryl pulls her into his lap and Judith buries into him, clinging to him like a life line. Daryl’s about to call the whole thing off, he’s got a good idea of what happened next but Judith continues.
“He started touching Carl and Carl fought him,” Judith said, voice broken up with the sound of her tears. “Shane was hurting Carl and I didn’t do anything, I just ran. I got scared, I didn’t know what to do.”
“Oh sweetheart,” Daryl says, pressing his face against Judith’s hair. “You did what ya had to do, that’s not yer fault.” He’s disgusted to think that Shane had been molesting Carl, hurting him in ways that nobody would ever understand, but he’s even more disgusted that Judith had witnessed it.
“I ran back outside,” Judith continues, clenching her fists against Daryl’s t-shirt. “Carl came outside later. He looked really sad so I hugged him hard and he started crying, I didn’t want to tell him what I had seen. He was pushing me on the swing when Shane told us you were on your way.”
Daryl closes his eyes tightly once he realizes Judith is done with her story, trying to keep back the images he suddenly has in head. He was fuming, angrier than he has ever been before. To think that Carl is being molested makes bile rise up in the back of his throat, to think he’s being molested by a man who was supposed to protect him is even worse. He had willingly dropped Carl off at Shane and Lori’s on Friday, even though he knew there was something going on with Carl, this was his fault.
Daryl’s angry and frustrated and upset. He wants to hunt Shane down, beat his face in for doing what he's done, but mostly he’s angry at himself. He should have seen this, should have recognized the signs and put everything together himself. The thought had never crossed his mind, not for a second, that the reason Carl had been so distant lately was because he’s being molested.
Suddenly, everything makes sense. Carl’s behavior has changed drastically over the past couple of months. He and Rick had talked about it, had tried to come up with reasons why, but ultimately they had just chalked it up to being a teenager. Oh how fucking wrong they had been.
Carl’s been angry and withdrawn lately, hardly socializing with anyone at home. He’s always locked away in his room, he doesn't go out with his friends anymore, and sometimes it’s nearly impossible to get him to come downstairs for dinner. He’s been acting out at school, he hardly interacts with his family anymore, and his grades were slipping. Now that Daryl thinks about it, he should have figured this out long ago. Carl’s been crying out for help for months now and nobody had seen it.
“Is Carl in trouble?” Judith asks, pulling Daryl out of his internal monologue. “I don’t want him to be in trouble.”
“No,” Daryl says, voice probably a little harsher than he actually meant it to be. “No baby, he’s not, and neither are you. I need you to do something for me, though. Go play in your room, I’m gonna talk to Daddy at the station, okay?”
Judith nods and hugs Daryl’s neck tightly. “I know you’ll protect Carl,” she says and Daryl forces a smile.
“Yeah, baby, I will. Go play, okay?” Judith nods and presses a kiss against Daryl’s cheek before she heads off upstairs. Talking about what she had seen seems to have lifted some kind of weight off her shoulders, and Daryl’s happy to see that. She’s way too young to be dealing with shit like this.
Daryl takes a few minutes to get his head screwed on right before he does anything. He’s angry, beyond pissed, and every bone in his body is aching to go find Shane. But he knows he needs to maintain a level head, this needs to be handled right. He wants to make Shane pay for what he’s done to his son, and he’s not going to let Shane get away with this, but he can’t just go and attack Shane outright.
Once Daryl’s calm enough, he heads upstairs towards Carl’s room. He takes a deep breath, making sure he’s absolutely calm, before he knocks. Carl gives a quiet, “come in,” and Daryl opens the door.
“Hey,” Daryl says, resisting the urge to say anything right there. He needs to tell Rick what’s going on before he talked to Carl. “I’m going out, won’t be gone long though. Will you keep an eye on your sister for me?”
Carl’s curled up on his bed, notebook open in front of him, when he looks up at Daryl. “Sure,” he says, smiling.
“Thanks,” he says, softly smiling. “I’ll be back in a little while.”
Daryl’s almost out the door when he hears Carl’s voice once more.
“Um, Daryl? About today, I’m sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you; I know you’re just trying to help. I’ve just been going through some stuff lately, but I’ve got it handled now. Don’t worry about me,” Carl says, and Daryl’s heart breaks a little more.
“You know you can come to me with anything, right kid?” Daryl asks. He so badly wants to bring up what Judith had told him, but he needs to talk to Rick first. “I love you and if someone is causing you problems I’ll always be here.”
“I know, Daryl, and that means a lot to me,” Carl says, and Daryl smiles softly.
“Alright, kid, thanks again,” Daryl says, stepping back into the hallway.
His mind is racing; he can’t focus on anything. He’s so angry, he physically has to keep himself from driving over to Shane’s and putting an end to the pathetic excuse for a human being. The only thing that prevents him from doing so is the possibility that he'll end up fucking everything up and ruin their chances of getting Shane thrown in prison. He’s got to think logically about this, the last thing he wants is for him to do anything that jeopardizes their case against him.
Daryl doesn't show just how angry he is until he’s outside, until he knows he can’t be heard from Judith or Carl. He lets out an angry groan and punches the siding of their house, trying to relieve some pent up anger. Pain shoots through his fingers and Daryl’s sure his hand is going to hurt for the next couple of days, but he right now he couldn’t care less. Daryl shakes out his hand and climbs into his car. He takes a deep breath before he pulls out of their driveway and heads towards the police station.