Helping A Friend

Summary: Follows You Can't Do It Alone. Set after episode eleven, Through a Dark Circle. Eric feels guilty about setting free the spirit of Richard Lee Wilbanks and putting the lives of innocent people in danger. Daryl helps him to move past it
Warning(s): Spanking; spoilers for the entire series; references to violence and canon character death

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The sound of his cell phone ringing drew Daryl out of a deep sleep...and a dream where he was solving a case that was actually normal and didn't involve a man who'd literally come back from the dead. Being woken up from a dream like that made him more grumpy than he usually was when he answered the phone, and his voice was brusque when he said, "Albrecht here."

"Are you alone?" The voice was immediately recognisable as belonging to Eric Draven.

Groaning softly, Daryl slumped back against his bed and closed his eyes wearily. Of course he couldn't get a moment of peace. He hadn't been able to get that since Eric Draven had walked into his life. "Yeah." He sighed into the phone. "Cordelia's staying overnight in the hospital for observation. I was asleep...."

"I'm outside."

"Of course you are." Stifling a yawn, Daryl got out of bed and quickly pulled his clothes on. He then headed to the front door and pulled it open.

Draven was standing just outside, looking wide awake...but there was a strange look on his face. Like he was feeling guilty, maybe. He'd never looked happy, but he looked somewhat worse now than usual.

"Don't you ever sleep?" Daryl stepped back from the door, allowing Draven to step into the house and pull the door closed behind him.

"The only time I've been able to sleep was when you spanked me," Draven admitted.

"Is that why you're here?" The question was seriously meant. Daryl had spanked Draven initially because he'd been worried the other man would find a way to get himself killed permanently...in a way that would ensure he was gone, not just in the land of the dead with Shelly. That spanking Draven had also succeeded in helping the other man to finally sleep had been an advantage he hadn't expected.

"I'm not here for you to help me sleep. But...." Draven hesitated, looking unsure for the first time since Daryl had met him.

"But...?" Daryl prompted.

"I put a lot of people in danger." Draven looked up, meeting Daryl's eyes unflinchingly. "A lot of innocent people were hurt because of my actions. And because you're protecting me, none of them even know who was really responsible for what happened to them."

"It wasn't you," Daryl said. "The only person responsible for what happened was Richard Lee Wilbanks. Of course, it's not as if I could put that in my report. Vincennes would think I'd lost my mind," he muttered under his breath. Of course, it was possible his boss already thought that, given all the weird Daryl had been involved with in the last six months or so.

"But it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't tried to bring Shelly back," Draven said.

Daryl hesitated. His first instinct might have been to continue insisting that it wasn't Draven's fault; that he'd been trying to be reunited with the woman he loved, and Daryl couldn't exactly blame him for that. After all, he might have done something very similar if he'd lost Cordelia in the same way Draven had lost Shelly.

He could have said all those things...but the look on Draven's face suggested that he wasn't in the right mindspace to listen to logic.

"Okay." Daryl nodded, more to himself than to Draven. "Not sure I agree with your belief that this  your fault, but since we're friends...and I'm probably your only friend, outside of a 12-year-old girl who's more involved in this than I would like...I guess it falls to me to help you." Half-expecting to get punched in the face for what he was about to do, he reached out and closed his fingers around Draven's upper arm.

The other man didn't move. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah." There was no point in trying to explain again that he didn't think this was Draven's fault. It was more than clear that the other man was affected by what had happened...and maybe it wasn't even truly guilt that had brought him here, to seek Daryl's help. He'd admitted that he was trying to bring Shelly back, and it had to suck that he'd not only failed, but accidentally brought back one of the worst possible people. "Let's get this over with." he muttered, before leading Draven over to the couch.

The other man followed without a word of protest, and when Daryl sat down, Draven lay across his lap without a word of protest, only shifting slightly in an apparent attempt to get more comfortable.

Daryl rested a hand on Draven's back and said quietly, "It wasn't just your own life...or whatever it is you've got that passes for life...that you put in danger this time. Because you acted without thinking, without planning things through, you put other people in danger as well." He waited, long enough for Draven to say something if he felt the need to. When nothing was forthcoming, he hooked his fingers in the waistband of Draven's pants and eased them down, helped along by the other man raising his hips.

As soon as Draven's pants were bare, Daryl moved his hand a little lower and then lifted his hand, bringing it down in a firm smack at the crest of Draven's backside.

Draven's body jerked and a tiny whimper escaped his lips, although he didn't protest. Instead, he reached one hand down and closed his fingers around Daryl's ankle, holding on tight.

Daryl continued to swat firmly, covering every inch of Draven's backside from the crest down to mid-thigh. Apart from the initial whimper, Draven was quiet and mostly still while the spanking continued. He reacted a little more when Daryl swatted the tops of his thighs, shifting from side to side and letting out little grunts of pain.

As he began a second circuit of swats, Daryl began to speak, even as he kept up with the steady smacks, not breaking his rhythm at all. "I get that losing Shelly ripped a hole in you too big for anything to fill. Even if you hadn't been murdered and come back to some form of life, you'd probably still be broken up by grief." He paused to deliver a pair of swats to Draven's sit spots and the tops of his thighs, then began again from the crest. "I know why you tried to bring her back. I can't say I wouldn't do the same if our situations were reversed...."

"But they're not." Draven's voice hitched. "And I messed up, so badly. I'm sorry." His voice broke.

Daryl could hear the tears in Draven's voice and he felt bad...but he forced himself to continue the spanking; to swat a fraction harder and faster. "I know you're sorry. What happened to you was messed up. I know that grief and pain have been tearing you up inside. But that's not an excuse to do something that was so dangerous, you brought a serial killer back to life. If he'd succeeded in what he planned to do, you would have felt even worse."

"I know...." Draven's whole body slumped and he just began to cry without ceasing.

Daryl thought about calling the spanking done. If this was like the last time, he would have stopped it there. But somehow, he got the feeling that Draven wouldn't think that this was enough, if Daryl stopped at this point. And they were friends...at least the closest to it that Draven could get.

With that thought in mind, Daryl eased Draven's underwear down. He heard another quiet whimper from the other man, but Draven didn't try to fight or protest. Instead, he just buried his face in his arms and waited.

"Ten more." Daryl's voice shattered the abrupt silence that had fallen and he winced. His own voice had sounded abnormally loud, and he couldn't help but glance guiltily towards the door...as if Cordelia might choose that moment to walk in and immediately wonder what the hell was going on.

No one interrupted them, of course, and Daryl turned his attention back to the man across his lap. Draven needed his full attention. He needed Daryl to finish this...and Daryl wasn't sure he understood why. Maybe he never would. But the important thing was that he give his friend what he needed...and hope it was enough.

The first crack of his bare hand to bare skin echoed loudly through the room and Daryl paused, wondering if he'd put too much force behind the smack. He looked at the back of Draven's head, waiting to see if there was a reaction that might indicate this was too much for him.

Draven didn't really react, other than his body slumping even more over Daryl's lap. But the sound of his tears did get a bit louder.

Deciding to trust that Draven would find some way of letting him know if it was too much, Daryl lifted his hand and brought it down a second time, at the same force he'd used for the previous smack. He then delivered two smacks just below the first, swatting hard enough to elicit gasps from Draven at each one.

Wanting to get it over with, Daryl finished the promised ten smacks and then stopped. He rubbed Draven's back for a few moments, giving the other man a chance to calm down. Then, he carefully pulled Draven's clothing back into place and helped him to stand up, before wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug.

Almost immediately, Draven wrapped his own arms around Daryl and hugged tight in return. His body shuddered as he breathed in deeply and obviously tried to calm himself down. It took a few minutes, but he finally whispered, "I'm sorry."

Daryl hugged him a little tighter and whispered, "No need to apologise. I know you just wanted to bring Shelly back."

"It hurts so much to be separated from her." Draven pulled back and wiped at his eyes, then stifled a yawn. "I should go."

"You don't need to. Stay here." Daryl made the offer without thinking about it.

Draven raised his eyebrows. "You sure about that?" he drawled. "I feel like that's a pretty major step in our friendship."

"More major than spanking you because you feel guilty?"

Draven paused, tilting his head to one side with a thoughtful look on his face. Finally, he nodded. "Yeah, okay. I can take the couch, if you have a blanket I can use."

"Nah. You're not taking the couch." Once again, Daryl reached out and grasped Draven's arm; though this time, it wasn't to guide the other man into position for a spanking. This time, he used that hold on Draven's arm to guide the other man into his bedroom. "I've got a couple of spare nightshirts, if you want to borrow one."

"Thank you."

Daryl nodded and let go of Draven, heading over to his chest of drawers. He opened the top one and took out one of the nightshirts, handing it over to Draven.

Without hesitation, Draven stripped out of his clothing and put the nightshirt on. Once it was in place, he yawned again...and then looked confused. "There must be something wrong with me. I never feel tired."

"Or it means that your body actually needs sleep. Maybe just not as often as us living people need it." Daryl gently grasped Draven's arm, leading him over to the bed, and helped him to lay down on the bed.

"Feels like there's something wrong with me." Draven settled down on the bed and yawned again, closing his eyes. "Watch my back?" he whispered, voice heavy with sleep.

"Of course." Daryl sat down on the edge of the bed and reached out, beginning to rub Draven's back.

Letting out a tiny sigh, Draven relaxed under Daryl's hand and quickly slipped into sleep.

The End