Daryl

by teenidle
Tags   genderbender   teenagers   deanwinchester   joycehyster   daryldixon   transgender   | Report Content

Daryl - genderbender teenagers deanwinchester joycehyster daryldixon transgender - main story image

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Daryl

 

 

               Dinner was unexpectedly nice. I thought since Daryl and I were not too well acquainted there would be some awkwardness. However, it was anything but awkward. It was as if we had known each other all our lives. “How come I have never seen you around Bobby’s when I used to visit?” I asked him as we sat on the couch flipping through the channels. He gave a little shrug.

               “We moved here after my mom left a few years ago. I used to just wonder around the park when my dad and bro started to get in their…moods. One night a year and a half ago Bobby found me shivering in the cold and kinda saved me.” He explained in a soft whispered. I could tell that he was thinking about something deep. His eyebrows softly furrowed together, and his eyes looked as if they were reliving something horrible.

               “Yeah, Bobby seems to have a habit of saving people. My mom didn’t want me around, and was about to dump me on the government. Thankfully Uncle Bob offered to put me up.” I said. Unlike Daryl’s tone of voice, mine was less emotional. I guess it is something that happens when you’ve gone sixteen years with a mother who thought you were the plague. I let out a small bitter laugh. I wasn’t my intention to come off as a cold bastard, but I was doing one fine job of making myself out to look like one. “I…um try not to get too caught up on my mother. She didn’t want me, so it’s her loss really. I think I’m a swell kid.” I said. He looked over at me. He was a little confused at the way I talked about my mother as if she didn’t leave a mark. I felt like I was going to actually tell him how I feel, but I quickly changed the subject. I didn’t like getting my shrink on with new people. Heck, I didn’t even talk to people I was close to back home. “So what about we play a game instead? I have my PS3 upstairs. I got Injustice. We can see who is a better fighter.” I smiled.

               “I’m not really good a video games,” He replied.

               “Really? I think they are kinda easy to get. I’ll show ya,” I said getting up. “Bobby we are going to play Injustice,” I shouted to Bobby. He looked up from his book and gave me a confused look. “Oh…Mom always made me tell her when I was going to my room…” I said. I couldn’t hide the slight pain in my voice.

               “No smoking pot,” Bobby said giving me a chance to compose myself.

               “Come on! You know I hate smoke,” I shouted as I ran up the stairs. Daryl was hot on my heels, if he had known where my room was I bet he would have reached it first. Welcome to my humble abode,” I said as I opened the door. The room was draped in a mixture of my art work, music sheets, and a few mechanic books that were scattered all over my desk. “Yeah, I’m not that much of a neat freak. As long as I’m not steppin’ on stuff I’m happy,” I laughed.

               “Did you draw these?” He asked looking at one of my pieces. I gave him a nod.

               “I love reading comics from all over. That one is from this one called Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon. I know it is such a girl name, but the drawing is amazing. I don’t really like it when they draw women with unrealistic proportions, and even though they are a little unrealistic I think they are beautiful. I know most people think that it is lame for a dude to like stuff like that, but I think it is awesome.” I said as I turned on my old television and PS3. I took out the controllers and waited for the game to start.

               “It must be cool having a talent,” He said. I looked at him.

               “Everyone’s got a talent. I wasn’t allowed to go out a lot, so I spent a lot of my time inside drawing or reading. I think that is why I am ok at drawing.” I said honestly.

               “I don’t think I have one,” He said. I thought for a moment.

               “I think you have a talent of making people feel comfortable. I’m not really one who warms up to people easily. I kind of a loner, but I already consider you a friend,” I said maneuvering the game menu. He gave me a little shrug. “Ok so you pick whoever you want to play as, I always choose Nightwing. He is my favorite character,” I said as I selected him. He took his time picking his character. Surprisingly he was very good at the game. We spent the rest of the night playing and making ridiculous bets over who would win the rounds.

               Daryl made his way home at around eleven to check if it was safe. I sat down at the kitchen table with Bobby. He had a cold beer in his hand, and I had a warm cup of tea. “How was your first day of school?” He asked.

               “It was really good actually. All of my classes seem to be pretty easy. I didn’t know you were popular with the kids at my bus stop.” I said.

               “Not with a lot, but with a few. I’m good friends with a lot of the guys who live around here. They often come to me when they need something fixed or for advice about life and stuff. Sometimes it makes me feel like an old man. When I’m about the same age as them.” He laughed. I joined in. Despite the memory of my mother and her rules seeping into my mind, I went to bed with my mind at ease. Bobby sure had a way of calming me down. He knew just what to say.

               “BOBBY,” A voice shouted. I shot up in my bed. There was pounding on the door and alarmed shouting. Bobby’s heavy footsteps echoed throughout the otherwise quiet home. My hand touched the doorknob before retracting. I turned on the light and made sure everything was in order. I didn’t want whoever was at the door to figure out why mom disliked me. Once properly checked, I quickly made my way down stairs. Daryl and Bobby were in the kitchen. Daryl looked as if he had been crying. His face and knuckles had skin exposed.

               I didn’t say anything. I understood what had happened. I wanted to ask if he was alright, but I knew well that he wasn’t. Bobby brought out the first aid kit and was cleaning the wounds. “I…I shouldn’t have gone home,” He whispered. Daryl seemed to be blaming himself, which angered me. How was it his fault that he went home? I leaned against the kitchen door frame.

               “I can bring down a few covers and pillows for you to sleep on the couch,” I said.

               “I think that would be best. I have some extra clothes in the closet at the end of the hallway. Bring them as well,” Bobby said as he patched Daryl up. I quietly retrieved the clothes and made him an area in the den. I handed him the clothes when Bobby had finished with him.

               “I kinda guessed what size you were. Bobby has a lot of clothes in the closet.” I said. Daryl took them silently and went to change. When I heard the door to the restroom click I opened my mouth. “How come someone doesn’t do something?” I asked.

               “Why do you think? If they take it seriously Daryl will be put into the foster system. He doesn’t have any family that will put him up. He hasn’t been hit in a while. I think that is why they were…hard on him this time.” Bobby’s voice was saddened. I was too. The thought of what Daryl was going through made me remember what I went though. My mother had verbally abused me, but she never physically harmed me. Still, I knew that the odds were that they were doing that as well. A part of my heart ached for him. He couldn’t find the freedom that I had until he was at least eighteen. I wanted to ask Bobby to adopt him too, but I knew that would be asking too much of him. It was tough for him to get custody of me and that is because my mother threw me at Bobby.

               I waited for Daryl to finish up in the restroom. He exited like a dog who had been hit. His eyes were filled with sadness and confusion; his movements were defensive as he made his way to the couch. “I know that you are probably not ok, but if you need to talk I’m here. I don’t know exactly what you are going through….but my mom was no cakewalk either. People say that it helps to talk about it-not that I would know about that,” I said. He remained silent. I knew that I would keep talking and making the situation awkward or make him explode, so I decided to head up to my room. “Um…Good Night,” I said quickly leaving upstairs.

 

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FrozenApple  on says about chapter 1:
interseting...

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