Author's Note: Well, if you're reading this, then you've probably discovered that I've revamped the earlier version of the story I'd had posted and then deleted the previous version. I made some tweaks that I thought were necessary. I wanted to make Kali stand out from my other characters so I changed her physical appearance as well as her back story. Her back story seemed too similar to what I'd written for my other characters' pasts and I wanted to make her seem more unique, less bland. As a result of tweaking some things, obviously, some of her answers to Daryl's questions and such will change a little. However, I tried to leave her personality alone. I really liked the concept of this story and I do intend to continue on with it, but I thought that it needed some adjustments to make it seem more interesting.
There will still be thank you notes at the bottom of the chapter, so be on the lookout for those. I'm also still looking for people that are willing to read over future chapters of this story – or any of my stories for that matter – and help give me feedback – suggestions for revision (what parts they think work and which parts don't work with explanations as to why they do or don't work) – so that I can revise my chapters better before posting them. I don't care if this person is a beta on Fanfiction or not. They don't have to have to be a grammar, punctuation, or spelling whiz either – and, trust me, I'm not downing English majors because I am one. I'm just saying, I don't have special requirements, just as long as they're willing to help and they can offer honest, helpful feedback.
If you liked the changes I've made to this story, don't hesitate to let me know. If you're not happy with the changes I've made, you can let me know which ones you didn't like and why you thought the previous version was better. What it amounts to is this: I want to hear from you. The more detailed the review, the more I know about what parts you liked and what parts you didn't like and why. This helps me gauge the readers' reactions to my writing. It allows me to know what you want to read more of and what you don't. It helps me to improve in the future and provide you with better chapters.
I didn't use the entire lyrics from the songs I incorporated into this chapter. If you'd like to listen to the full songs – which I really recommend that you do, especially if you haven't heard them before – I'm sure you can find them on Youtube – you'd be amazed at what you can find on that site. The names of the songs and the bands that sing them are listed at the bottom of the chapter above the author's note at the end of the chapter – and the thank you notes are just below it.
That being said, I've blabbed enough. So read on, my friends.
This Broken Road
Chapter 1: This Is the Life
Oh the wind whistles down
The cold dark street tonight
And the people they were dancing
To the music vibe
And you're singing the songs, thinking this is the life
And you wake up in the morning and your head feels twice the size
Where you gonna go?
Where you gonna go?
Where you gonna sleep tonight?
And you're singing the songs, thinking this is the life
And you wake up in the morning and your head feels twice the size
Where you gonna go?
Where you gonna go?
Where you gonna sleep tonight?
Where you gonna sleep tonight?
So you're heading down the road in your taxi for 4
And you're waiting outside Jimmy's front door
But nobody's in and nobody's home till 4:00
So you're sitting there with nothing to do
Talking about Robert Ragger and his motley crew
And where you gonna go?
Where you gonna sleep tonight?
And you're singing the songs, thinking this is the life
And you wake up in the morning and your head feels twice the size
Where you gonna go?
Where you gonna go?
Where you gonna sleep tonight?
And you're singing the songs, thinking this is the life
And you wake up in the morning and your head feels twice the size
Where you gonna go?
Where you gonna go?
Where you gonna sleep tonight?
Where you gonna sleep tonight?
–=Daryl=–
Daryl Dixon pulled up the winding drive, following the twists and turns until he put the truck in park in front of an old, abandoned farmhouse. The grass that surrounded the house was nearly knee high. The white paint was peeling off the sides of the house and the railing around the porch hadn't been touched up since the house was last painted either. The windows were covered with dust from years' worth of neglect and the glass was even broken in a few places.
"This place looks as good as any," he heard the raven-haired woman riding shotgun tell him as she peered up at the farmhouse with those emerald eyes.
"Ya said that 'bout the last three places and they turned out ta be a fuckin' bust," he retorted.
He wasn't in the mood for optimism, not that Kalina was a real optimist either. She was just as big of a realist as he was, and it had shocked him at first. She was never one to get her hopes up, just like he didn't let himself get his hopes up. Hell they had more in common than he cared to think about. Maybe that was why Rick was always sending them out on supply runs together. Well, that and the fact that they were the only two Rick could trust to actually come back with the supplies they'd found.
Rick had been assigning Kali to go out on supply runs with Daryl ever since Rick had discovered that Kali was just as tough and quick-witted as Daryl was. She worked well with Daryl because she was the only one out of the whole damn group that actually took the time to figure him out and she didn't push him, didn't pry at him. She gave him his space, didn't pester him if he didn't want to talk, didn't ask him about subjects she knew he wasn't comfortable discussing.
This was the reason Rick always sent Daryl and Kalina out on errands. They were the two-man team he knew would come back alive, the two people he knew he could count on. They had each other's backs, despite the fact that they were nothing more than friends. And "friends" might've even been stretching it a bit. It wasn't that they didn't get along. They did. But they weren't really the kind of people that got attached to anyone, yet another similarity that the two shared. They preferred, instead, to keep their distance from the rest of the group and even each other when they weren't assigned to work together.
"Don't be a jackass, Dixon," Kali huffed before reaching out to push the passenger side door of the new Chevy – the one Daryl had managed to find the keys for at one of the farms they'd found – open, "Just 'cause you're tired and fuckin' grumpy doesn't mean that my patience isn't wearin' any thinner either. Let's just do this and get it the fuck over with."
He gave a loud sigh but nodded. She was the first one out of the truck and she didn't wait for him like he'd thought she would either. Instead, she started right for the house, pulling her knife out of the sheath on her belt and keeping her eyes and ears sharp as she approached the old, abandoned farmhouse.
Daryl hopped out of the truck and grabbed his crossbow and his pack from the back seat before starting for the house, his long legs eating up the distance that separated them quickly and easily as he followed after her. When they reached the steps to the porch, she started up them first, cringing and freezing in place when they both heard the loud CREEEEEAK the second wooden step made.
Daryl's crystal blue orbs met her bright green ones and he nodded to her after a few moments, silently telling her that it was okay to continue since no danger had presented itself yet.
Kali nodded and started up the steps again, relieved when none of the others voiced a groan beneath her feet.
Like the house, the old door was in pretty poor shape. The wood was cracked here and there, the white paint chipping. It had a small, glass window in the center of the upper half of the door, the faded gold design that spiraled across the glass barely visible through the thick layer of dust that had gathered over it.
They made it to the front door and he held his hand out, gazing at her and giving her that silent "Stay put" look. She just nodded to him, letting him know that she understood what he wanted her to do. He was thankful that they could communicate with their facial expressions, hand gestures, and body language in times like these, times when they didn't know what lied ahead.
Kali was more of a thinker, more of a doer, than a talker. That had aided them in developing the silent form of communication that they used, especially while they were out on a run. While they knew next to nothing about one another's lives before the apocalypse, they'd come to know each other's actions and thoughts quickly, learning them well enough to work together as an efficient team. In fact, they worked better with each other than they did with anyone else.
In the four months that Daryl had known Kalina since he'd stumbled onto her while he was out on a supply run, they'd come to read each other really well, which never ceased to surprise him since no one but Kali had been able to read him. He'd always managed to mask his emotions in front of everyone else and they'd never known any different. But not Kali. She always managed to see right through the front he put up, which pissed him off to no end.
Daryl was really good at reading people, due to the fact that he was hyper-vigilant because of everything he'd experienced in his fucked up life up to this point. But Kali was better at reading people in general than he'd ever known anyone to be, himself included. It came in handy quite a bit. It often made him wonder what her past had been like, what her life had consisted of before the world had gone to shit. But her little talent was annoying as fuck when she tried to read him when he didn't want to be read.
Daryl held his hand out again, gesturing for her to stay put before he jerked his head in the direction of the front door to let her know that he was going to go in first. Again, she nodded to him, waiting for him to slowly reach out and try the door handle, her knife poised in the air, ready to strike if need be. The door was unlocked, just like the rest of the houses they'd checked, and he pushed it open. It creaked and they froze in place, their eyes growing real wide and darting to meet each other's gaze. If there were any walkers inside, they'd just alerted them to their presence. They held their breath as they waited, silently hoping that there weren't any walkers in the house.
Finally, after waiting a few moments, Daryl nodded to her and she followed him into the house. He motioned with a little wave of his hand towards the kitchen for her to check that way before he gave a jerk of his head in the direction of the living room to let her know that he'd go that way. Kali just nodded and started in the direction of the kitchen while he started for the living room.
There was an old, box TV in the center of the living room, speakers built into the wooden frame that surrounded the TV. A large, faded, red and gold rug was laid out in front of a deep red, velvet couch with a cherry wood frame. A red brick fireplace was built into one wall and it had a black, metal grate in front of it. There was a large standing cabinet with various sets of china lining the shelves against another wall and a bookshelf filled with dust-covered paperbacks rested against the same wall, just a few feet away from the china cabinet.
He'd just finished making sure the living room was clear before he heard familiar footsteps. That was another thing the two of them had come to be familiar with. They'd learned to distinguish the sound of each other's footsteps from that of walkers as well as other living humans'.
He jerked his head for the steps as Kali came out of the kitchen from a different doorway than the one she'd entered through. She nodded to him and got a firmer grip on the handle of her knife.
Daryl started up the steps first, his eyes roaming up the steps on the way and then around the hallway on the second floor once it came into view. He listened closely to see if he could hear anything but his and Kalina's footsteps as she followed him closely.
They made it to the top of the stairs and she pointed to the doors on one side of the hall before giving a nod of her head in their direction. He nodded to her to let her know that she could clear those rooms and he'd take the ones on the other side of the hallway.
He found the bathroom first. It was clear. He found what looked like some sort of office, and it was clear too. He found that the last door was ajar just a crack and he eased his hunting knife out of the sheath at his belt, holding it up above his head with a firm grip on the handle even as he pushed the door open and stepped back. But he didn't have time to react.
He heard the unearthly growl just before the he felt the weight of the fucking walker pushing against him, tackling him to the floor. His knife hit the hardwood floor and slid just out of his grasp as he struggled with the undead geek. Just seconds later, before he had time to get the upper-hand, he heard the sick, wet sound of something sinking into flesh. The walker slumped on top of him, lifeless, and he scrunched his face up in disgust as its god-awful breath hit him when its face landed just in front of his chin.
He heard the wet slide of a blade being pulled out of the walker's skull just before he gave a firm shove at the walker's chest, rolling it off of him. Kali wiped her blade on the side of her faded, holy jeans and tucked it back into the sheath at her belt before she reached down to offer him her hand, pulling him up onto his feet.
"Saved your ass, Dixon," she pointed out as she picked up his hunting knife and handed it over to him, "You're welcome."
He glared at her and retorted, "I could've fought it off."
She shrugged and said, "You're right. You probably could've. Either way, I didn't want another walker to deal with and I don't exactly wanna be goin' out on supply runs with Shane or Merle. So I took the liberty of savin' your ass anyway."
He rolled his crystal blue orbs at her and she rolled those emerald ones at him in return. It wasn't the first time she'd saved his ass, much to his displeasure. But he'd saved hers a few times too. He didn't trust anyone to have his back like he trusted her. Even Merle could prove to be unreliable at times.
He also didn't like the idea of Rick sending Shane or Merle out on supply runs with Kali. It wasn't that he was jealous. He just knew that Shane was reckless. He'd be liable to get Kali or both of them hurt. And he wouldn't hesitate to leave Kali behind if it meant saving his own ass. And Merle… Well Merle was only out for himself. Daryl loved his big brother but Merle wasn't exactly the kind to lay his life down for someone else. Merle only looked out for one person – Merle.
Daryl wasn't stupid though. He'd seen the way Shane and Merle were always eyeing Kali up like his mom used to gaze at the bottles of Red Rooster Merlot in the liquor store when he was a kid. They thought she was a real treat and they were just dying to try a taste of her. Just the thought of Rick sending Shane or Merle out on any kind of errand with Kali made Daryl sneer. She was safest with him, where he knew that she'd have protection when she needed it, where he could see her and know that she was safe and comfortable. She was uneasy around Shane and Merle and it wasn't hard to pick up on that. Hell the vibes just rolled off of her. She got fidgety when she was around them, eager to get out of whatever situation involved having to deal with either of them. And, as much as he hated to admit it, Daryl wouldn't put it past Shane or Merle to try to force themselves onto her either, especially if there was alcohol involved.
"The place is clean," she informed him, dragging him out of his thoughts, "Other than Stinky there that tried to get a nibble outta ya. I'm gonna head back downstairs and see what I can raid from the kitchen."
He nodded to her and said, "I'll see what I can find up here."
Daryl searched through the cabinets and the medicine cabinet there in the bathroom, finding a few bottles of pain killers, a tube of Neosporin, and a First-Aid kit, which he stuffed into his pack. He checked the office but didn't find anything of importance, so he moved onto the bedrooms. He found some clothes he thought that some of the women might able to fit into and a few shirts Rick could've worn but that was it. He just hoped to hell that Kalina had more luck that he'd had.
He made his way down the stairs and headed into the kitchen.
Kali didn't even turn around as she announced, "I'm just finishin' my inspection of the cabinets. There were some decent knives here in the kitchen so I set 'em over there on the kitchen table. You're the weapons expert. See if they're useful for anything."
He went over to take a look at the knives she'd laid out on the kitchen table, finding that there were five of them. He smiled to himself. She'd picked the best knives. They were hunting knives. The blades were slightly dull but he'd seen worse. With some sharpening, they'd be as good as new. They were made of steel or silver, nothing cheap. They'd clearly been used by their previous owner but Daryl would take better care of them than whoever had owned them before had. He'd be sure to keep them sharp for frequent use. He was just glad that they weren't tarnished.
"Ya did good this time," he praised her.
It wasn't often that he praised her. Daryl wasn't really one for giving praise. Usually he tried to downplay things. But, after the shitty day they'd had and the bad luck they'd run into while searching the other houses, he figured a little praise was in order this time.
He heard her continue to go through the cabinets as he began to pick the knives up and inspect them a little closer.
"Thank God," she commented from where she was scouring the cabinets, "Food!"
He chuckled at that. But he was glad that she'd managed to find some loot. Hell they'd come up with damn near next to nothing all fucking day up to this point. He glanced down at the knives again and a small smile curled his lips. There was a boning knife, a carving knife, a skinning knife, and a couple Bowie knives, one slightly shorter than the other. He opened his pack and eased the knife holder out of it. He started slipping the knives into the knife holder as he waited for her to tell him what she'd found.
When she didn't, he slipped the knife holder back into his pack and headed over to her.
He peered over her head, looking up into the nearly-empty cabinets and asking, "What'd ya find ta eat?"
"Not much," she answered, "But enough to hold us over for the night."
It wouldn't be anything they could take back to the group, but it was better than nothing.
"Found a small box of white rice, a single can of sweet peas, and a roll of summer sausage. Once we cut that bad boy open though, it'll need to be refrigerated or it'll go bad. So we won't be able to take it with us. I can fry that shit up and make us some dinner," Kali informed him.
It might not be the best, but it was all they had. At least they'd have something to eat for the night.
He nodded to her and she found a couple of small pots, a cutting board, and a skillet.
"Hey pass me one of those knives, would ya?" she told him, holding her hand out towards him.
Daryl's eyes fixed to the plate Kalina set on the table before him and his stomach chose that opportunity to give a loud growl.
She giggled and gestured to the loaded plate, prompting, "Well… Ya don't just hafta stare at it, Dixon. Go ahead. Dig in."
He didn't have to be told twice.
He grabbed up his fork and dug in heartily, scooping a big bite of the concoction she'd made for them this time onto his fork and shoveling it towards his mouth. The food was still hot and it burnt his mouth, but he didn't care. He had a plate full of food in front of him and they hadn't had anything to eat today until this very moment. He didn't care that it was some damn jumble of white rice, sweet peas, and fried summer sausage chunks all mixed together and he sure as hell didn't care that it was still steaming. It was food and he was a starving man.
"Careful," Kali scolded gently as she took the seat across the table from him, "You'll burn your mouth."
He chose to ignore her, chewing quickly and swallowing it down so that the food wouldn't sit in his mouth too long. He scooped another bite onto his fork and she rolled her eyes.
"Stubborn jackass," she teased with a little laugh.
He looked over at her as he guided that forkful of food into his mouth.
He watched as she blew lightly on her own bite of food, trying to cool it down, before bringing it to her mouth.
"It's not as bad as I thought it'd be," she commented.
"'S all right," he agreed.
Hell Kali could make a meal out of anything. He'd been quick to discover that while they were out on their supply runs. She'd even managed to make a meal out of a can of cat food and a half-empty bag of plain potato chips. With enough seasoning on the cat food and heating it up on the stove, it'd tasted good enough to dunk the chips into. Sure, it wasn't some fancy cuisine, but it was all they'd had at the time and she'd made due instead of bitching around about it. She wasn't one to bitch, a quality that he admired her for. It wasn't a quality most women possessed and it sure as hell made spending time with her easier than spending time with most of the other group members in general – but the female population in particular. It wasn't that Daryl was sexist… He just found the women in their group to be annoying as hell and a bit overwhelming at times.
Kali was crafty and creative but he hated how she was always putting everyone else's needs before her own. She'd go without just so other members of the group could have and the rest of the group was starting to take advantage of her after learning that little habit of hers. And he hated that. She was selfless, a trait that many people admired a person for. But it was a trait that had gotten too many people killed once the world had gone to shit.
In this world, the way it was now, a person had to look out for themselves. They couldn't let others get the idea that they could always rely on them for everything. And they sure as shit couldn't always rely on others to provide for them, to protect them. And yet that was the solution the members of their group had come up with: Daryl and Kali will do it.
People sought every opportunity they got to take advantage of each other now. And he'd be damned if he was going to let the rest of the group use Kali like they were always using him. It wasn't that he had a little thing for her, because he didn't. He just respected her.
She was the only woman that he'd ever consider his equal instead of the weak, dependent things the rest of the women in the group had turned out to be. She could take care of herself and was happy to do so. The other women just bitched around when things didn't go their way and expected the men to protect them and provide for them. While he believed that it was only right for a man to look out for the women and children, that didn't mean that a woman shouldn't learn how to protect herself and her kids, especially with the damn zombie apocalypse going on. Everyone had to be able to defend themselves these days. The walkers weren't picky about who they ate, as long as it was meat.
Kali gave a sigh between a couple bites and stated, "We'll hafta keep lookin'. We haven't found much to take back to the group."
He just nodded. She was right.
"Well… I don't know what you're gonna do but I'm gonna take a fuckin' bath after we get done eatin'," she informed him.
He just looked up at her and she pointed towards the second floor of the house with her fork, informing him, "That's the first decent tub we've seen so far in the past two days and I wasn't exactly too keen on askin' Hershel to use the one in his house since I wasn't one of the women that were in and outta there all that often. You might be alright with not showering for a fuckin' month but I'm sure as hell not. That tub looked mighty damn fine to me so I'm gonna use it while I've got the chance."
"I wash up more than once a month," he protested, a pout curling at his thin lips.
"Ya sure don't smell like it," she razzed playfully, laughing a little.
He gave a single snort of laughter and she pointed her fork at him from across the table, telling him, "You see, Daryl, a nice, long soak in a tub filled with hot water is one of the world's seven greatest wonders."
He chuckled at that and asked, "Oh yeah?"
She just nodded and he questioned, "And what are the other six?"
"That's easy," she answered, "Chocolate, sweet alcoholic beverages, a good night's sleep, a pair of strong arms to cuddle up in, a soft bed with warm blankets, and corned beef hash."
A small, crooked smirk curled at his lips.
She was a hell of a lot easier to please than other women and she was able to get by on next to nothing. He wondered if she'd always been like that. She wasn't the kind to bitch and moan around about shit that didn't please her. Instead, she just sucked it up and dealt with it, whether she liked it or not.
One thing he liked about her was the fact that she never pushed him like Carol did. There was an understanding between Daryl and Kali, one that had never been verbalized but was clearly understood. She wasn't nosy like the other women of the group. She didn't give a shit about the latest gossip or everyone's dirty little secrets. Actually, she wasn't much of a talker at all unless there was a tense, awkward silence or she'd been spoken to first.
Kali didn't ask him personal questions and he didn't ask her about her life before the damn walkers had taken over either. She gave him his time and his space when he needed it. She didn't ask unnecessary questions or try to make a bunch of pointless small talk unless it was to try to lighten the mood. She didn't try to prod him to talk about his fucking thoughts or feelings. She knew when to drop a subject if she figured out she'd hit a nerve when they were discussing something. She just let him be for the most part and he offered her the same sort of privacy and space when she needed it. That's why they got along so well.
He just didn't like how she always put his needs before her own when they were out on supply runs, just like she always put the group's needs before her own. He absolutely hated how she'd sneak things into her bag and try to give them to him later – whether it was his favorite kind of food or some clothes she thought he might like. She was always doing that shit, always thinking enough of him to find things for him on their supply runs.
It wasn't that she was coming onto him like Carol always seemed to be doing. They were nothing more than friends, just like he and Carol were. Calling him and Kali "friends" was even stretching it a bit. They were two people that worked together as a team to get shit done. He was just glad that she wasn't always trying to hit on him or push him to talk about shit like Carol did.
What he hated more than anything though was the fact that Kali never expected anything from him. She was always willing to help him or any of the other members of the group and she always offered him things that she'd found during their supply runs. But she never asked for anything in return, not even food or protection. She could fend for herself, unlike the other women of the group, and she was just as capable of surviving on her own as Daryl was. Yet she stuck with the group because she thought it was the right thing to do, which was just another thing they had in common.
Like Daryl, she tended to steer clear from the group as much as she could. She kept her distance from the group, both socially and physically. She set her camp up far away from the rest of the group, separating them with physical distance as well as setting up the boundaries emotionally inside of herself. It was something that he'd taken to doing after the group had set up camp there at Hershel's farm too. Of course, part of his reason for keeping his distance from the group was the fact that they didn't exactly get along with Merle either. And, sometimes, Daryl couldn't exactly blame them. So he and Merle had set up camp away from the others to avoid any problems.
The thing that surprised Daryl the most was the fact that Kali even kept her distance from him, unless they were assigned to go out hunting together or to go on a supply run for the group.
He always knew where to find her if he needed to though. If she wasn't in the small tent Shane had let her use, she was in Hershel's stable, fawning over the horses. Apparently she was quite the animal lover, which had proven to be interesting on the few occasions Rick had asked her to tag along with Daryl when he went out hunting.
While she had great aim with a gun and she was just as good in close-combat with a knife, she just didn't seem to have the heart to bring the animals down herself. She never hesitated to point them out and she could deal with them after they were dead. But she didn't like to kill them and she sure as hell hated to see them suffering or in pain. Hell she choked up when she heard a deer or a rabbit bleating in pain and turned her back while Daryl finished the job. If it was a walker, she wouldn't have any problem taking it down. If it was someone that planned on harming her or another member of the group, she wouldn't hesitate. But if it was an animal, she couldn't bear to do it unless her life was in danger or she was starving.
"You gonna finish that, Dixon?" Kalina teased as she pushed herself back from the table, gesturing to the half-empty plate in front of him, "Hell you always finish a meal before me. If ya don't like it, you can dump it down the disposal. It won't hurt my little feelings."
That was another good thing about her. She wasn't quick to take offense, like most of the other women in the group. She was the kind that you could be brutally honest with and she'd just take it in stride. If you liked her, fine. She'd be helpful and polite. But if you didn't, she didn't care. It didn't make any difference to her and she didn't make a big fuss about it either. No matter the situation, he'd come to learn that she always appreciated the truth over any lie, even if it might hurt her feelings or piss her off. She could always deal with the truth better. It was the realist in her.
She was always brutally honest with him too, and he'd come to expect it. She'd tell him what she thought, whether she thought he'd like what she had to say or not. She didn't censor it or sugarcoat it either. She just told it like it was, which he appreciated, for the most part. It was when she wasn't honest with him that he grew suspicious.
"Nah. Food's all right," he told her, "Just thinkin' 's all."
She nodded to him and placed her hand on his shoulder, giving it the briefest of squeezes before she took her empty plate and her fork over to rinse it off in the sink.
She wasn't like Carol. She didn't try to flirt with him or press kisses to his face. She didn't crowd him or push him. Hell she wasn't really one for touching other people and she didn't really like to be touched either, which was yet another thing they had in common. But the small gesture she'd just dealt him was easy to understand. She'd never ask him what was bothering him unless she thought it was a significant problem and that it needed to be addressed. Instead, she left him to deal with his own shit unless she thought he was really struggling and needed some help. The slight squeeze on his shoulder had been an "I understand. I'm here if you wanna talk." gesture.
"Well, I'm gonna go take a bath," she announced before heading out of the kitchen.
He shook his head at himself and returned his attention to his food. It didn't take long to make it pull the disappearing act and he rinsed his plate and fork off before grabbing his pack and heading up the stairs.
He made his way into the bedroom closest to the bathroom and set his pack down in front of the foot of the bed. He heard the water running in the bathroom for a while before she turned it off. He heard her give a moan of approval as he kicked his boots off and climbed up onto the bed, lying back with his crossbow beside him.
He sighed as he stared up at the ceiling, his arms crossed underneath his head, his big hands cradling the back of his head. He'd let her sleep first while he took watch. He knew that it would lead to a little argument, that she'd insist that he slept first. She always did. And she made an art out of surviving without much sleep. It was nothing for her to get by on five or six hours of sleep. She could manage on even less when it was required of her too. Like Daryl, she was a restless sleeper and she didn't sleep nearly as long as the others of the group did.
Daryl found his mind wandering. He wondered if Merle had gotten himself into any trouble during his absence. He wouldn't be a bit surprised if he had. Merle didn't really "play well with others", as Rick put it. Unlike Daryl, Merle tended to be bold and shameless. He'd flirt with the women like it was some kind of professional sport and the rest of the men were his opponents. He'd make crude comments to the women in hopes of "charming the pants right off of them". But it never got him anywhere. Hell none of the women in that group were even remotely interested in Merle. But that didn't stop him.
Merle had an even shorter fuse than Daryl did too. Shit he'd jump into a fight over anything, over nothing at all. "Conduct Disorder" was what he'd told Daryl the psychologist at one of the juvenile detention centers he'd been held in had called it. While he didn't know what Conduct Disorder was, Daryl knew there was something wrong with his big brother. But it was to be expected, considering their fucked up childhood, their rough upbringing. Daryl didn't want to know what the damn shrinks would try to diagnose him with. Whatever it was, it wouldn't be good. He knew that much.
Merle had quite a few issues that got him into trouble with the group though. For one thing, he was way too simple-minded. For another, he never knew when to keep that big mouth of his shut. He wasn't real big on helping others either, a quality that people in any group had to have in order to fit in. He was irrational and unpredictable, two traits that made the rest of the group very uneasy when they were in his presence.
Daryl just hoped that he wouldn't come back to the farm to find that Merle had gone and gotten himself kicked out of the group.
Daryl was surprised by how long Kalina spent in the damn tub. Hell she'd been in there for damn near an hour!
"Daryl?" she asked, when she finally came out of the bathroom.
"In here!" he called to her.
She walked through the doorway of the bedroom he'd chosen for them to use for the night with a grin stretching from one ear to the other. Her shaggy, jet-black pixie cut was soaking after her bath, her long bangs clinging to her face. She shook her hair out like a dog and he couldn't help but laugh. Those emerald eyes met his sapphire blue ones and she giggled.
He discovered that she'd pulled on a plain, ribbed, black tank top and a pair of baggy, black, polyester shorts that came to stop just below her knees – her "basketball shorts" as she liked to call them – to go with it. Her tiny feet were bare.
"Well… I'm good and prunified," she announced, "That was a damn good soak. You oughta try one every once in a while, Dixon."
"Ya never take a shower for that fuckin' long," he pointed out.
"Showers are different, Daryl," she insisted, "I can be out of a shower in 20 minutes or less. My fastest recorded shower was five minutes I think. But nothing beats a long soak in a hot bath. It relaxes all your muscles and clears your mind."
"Thanks, Dr. Phil," he razzed as he pushed himself off the bed and started over for his pack, "Now that you're out, I can finally take a fuckin' shower."
She rolled her eyes but went over to set her pack next to the spot where he had his. He picked his up and they stood up at the same time, their faces just inches apart. Their eyes grew real wide and she was quick to step back even as he did the same.
"Well…! I'm wide awake after that bath," she commented, "So I'll take first watch."
"No ya won't," he argued as she started over to the bay window there in the bedroom, "Ya can sleep there on the bed and I'll keep watch first, just as soon as I get done with my shower."
She sighed. Apparently she'd known this was coming too.
"Daryl –," she started.
"No," he interrupted her, gesturing to the bed, "I'm takin' the first watch. And I'm not gonna fuckin' argue around about it either."
She cut him a little glare but went over to take a seat on the ledge of the bay window there in the bedroom.
He nodded, letting her know that he approved of her compliance, and headed out of the room.
He took a little longer than he'd intended to in the shower. He'd been quick to wash up but he'd enjoyed the steady, hot spray so damn much he'd decided to repeat the process and just stand under the water for a bit, letting the water cascade down over his aching muscles. Kalina was right. It was a damn good feeling.
When he'd finished with his shower, he headed back into the bedroom and closed the door behind him, making sure to lock it, just in case any damn walkers came shuffling into the house in the middle of the night. Granted, a locked door wouldn't stop them, but at least they wouldn't be able to turn the knob and shuffle right on in. They'd have to tear the door down first. So it would slow them down a bit, at the very least.
He went over to set his pack down in front of the foot of the bed and looked over to where Kali sat perched at the window, gazing out at the property the house was sitting on as the moonlight flooded down, illuminating it.
He cleared his throat and she looked over at him. He gestured to the bed with a wave of his hand and she sighed but hung her head and pushed herself off the ledge of the window, starting over towards the bed. She'd come to learn that she had to pick her battles when it came to him, and she'd been smart to do so quickly.
When they'd first started getting assigned to go out on supply runs together four months ago, she'd fought him on everything. And she was just as fucking stubborn as he was. But, eventually, she'd learned to just pick her battles because neither of them would ever back down and it just led to really long, awkward glaring contests until one of them finally caved. He'd been quick to learn that she wouldn't back down for anything if she felt strongly about something though, whether she was for it or against it. He couldn't win those battles.
She knew how to get under his skin though and Daryl hated that. While she didn't talk as much as the other women of the group did, she could still give him the silent treatment and he hated that too. He could handle silence for long periods of time but not when he knew that she was pissed at him. While she wasn't much of a talker, there was a difference between her naturally quiet attitude and the pissed off presence he felt during her silent treatments.
Kali made her way over to her bag and reached down to pull something out of it. She tossed it across the room to him and he caught it against his chest. He looked down at it, smirking when he discovered that it was a pack of cigarettes – a full pack of cigarettes. And they were Marlboro Reds… his favorite.
"You're welcome," she mumbled before tugging the covers on the bed back and inspecting it.
Once she decided that it was all right, she slid under the covers and pulled them up over herself. She was one of those "under the covers" girls as she called herself. She just couldn't sleep without covers, even if it was 100 degrees and it was just a thin sheet. He thought it probably had something to do with the fact that she snuggled up to the blankets, that she pulled them clear up to her chin and curled up into a ball, tucking her legs up and her face down.
It didn't take her long to fall asleep and he climbed up onto the seat at the bay window, peering out into the moonlight as he tapped the pack of smokes against the palm of his hand a couple times. He ripped it open and popped the top up to pull one out with his lips, fishing into his bag for the Zippo lighter he always carried with him. It wasn't often that they got cigarettes so he was going to enjoy these nicotine sticks by damn. He lit the cigarette and took a long drag, slowly blowing the smoke out as his eyes roamed over the property the farmhouse sat on.
Daryl heard Kalina gasp and jerked his head around to look over at her just in time to see her sit bolt upright in the bed. It was nothing new. Hell she was a fitful sleeper half of the damn time when they went out on supply runs. But he never asked about her nightmares, just like she never prodded him to tell her about it when he woke himself up because he was fussing in his sleep. He'd never known anyone to be as restless of a sleeper as he was until he'd met her. And, if he was honest, he didn't know which of them was worse.
Kali was quick to slide from the bed instead of trying to go back to sleep, so it must've been a nightmare that had really shaken her. Sometimes she'd lay back down and try to go back to sleep. Other times, she insisted on switching with him so that she could take watch and he could sleep. He never asked her about the nightmares because they were her own personal demons, just like she never asked him about his own. She respected his privacy and he respected hers. But it was a little habit they'd gotten into, switching watch when one or the other of them had had a particularly unnerving nightmare and couldn't get back to sleep. They figured, if they couldn't sleep, at least the other person could try to catch some sleep.
"I'll take watch," she informed him, starting over towards the window, "You need to get some sleep."
Rather than argue with her, he just nodded and headed over for the bed, letting her take his post at the window.
He flopped onto the bed, not bothering with the covers. He saw her reach up to rub at her arms as she looked out the window, working her hands up and down the length of her bare arms. She rubbed at them furiously, almost as if she was scrubbing at them. She reached a shaky hand up to brush her shaggy swoop bangs out of her eyes as she gazed out the window. Those bright green eyes held that distant expression, that vacant stare, as she looked out into the night.
She was clearly in a different time, a different place. He rolled over to face the wall, giving her some privacy. Hell she'd offered him the same courtesy more times than he could count so he'd leave her to her thoughts. She was having a personal moment, clearly lost in thought about whatever it was that had haunted her dreams. He wouldn't intrude.
Instead, he closed his eyes and tried to will himself to fall asleep.
~*Kalina*~
Kalina Avery rubbed her hands up and down over her arms, unconsciously trying to scrub herself clean. She shook her head hard, trying to shake the vivid images of her nightmare from her head. It didn't matter that the fucker was probably dead somewhere, a rotting corpse. Despite all the ways he'd enjoyed watching her suffer, she knew that there was no way in hell he would've made it through this.
Yet, despite the years of not having dealt with him, he still plagued her dreams, still haunted her in both her unconscious thoughts as well as her subconscious mind when she was awake. She just couldn't seem to escape him. She was glad that Daryl wasn't the kind to press her for information. She wouldn't have told him anyway, not even if he would've tried to pull the information out of her. Some secrets were far too deep, too dark, to share. But she knew that Daryl understood. He seemed to be pretty haunted himself, fussing in his sleep, mumbling shit sometimes when he didn't think she could hear it, keeping to himself when they were in the presence of the rest of the group. She'd seen all the signs, just like he'd seen all of hers. But he didn't press her for information and she let him have his privacy in return. There was a mutual respect between the two of them and she was grateful for that.
She gazed out the window, her emerald eyes raking over the tall grass that blew lightly in the late night breeze. All was calm, not a danger in sight. She rested the side of her head against the cold glass and tried to calm her thoughts, tried to regulate the rhythm of her heartbeat. It was always like this. Seeing him, hearing his voice, even in her dreams, always seemed to spark the same fear and anxiousness inside of her, made it swell up and threaten to consume her. Even after years without having to deal with him, having to see him, he could still strike terror into her. He could always shake her clear down to her core. She wished desperately that she could just forget that it had ever happened, but she knew that it was pointless.
She'd never forget, no matter how long she lived. Some memories just never died, especially the traumatic ones.
She felt something wet sliding down her cheek and reached up to wipe at it, sighing and rolling her eyes at herself as she realized that she was crying. She was quick to wipe at her eyes and steal a peek over at Daryl.
Good. He still had his back to her. He hadn't seen her. There was only one thing she hated more than someone seeing her cry and that was hoarking. Crying always made her feel weak, vulnerable, hopeless. She had to either be in extreme physical pain or be very emotionally distraught to cry. She'd learned at a very early age that it never did her any good to cry. It was just a waste of time and a waste of tears. The world wasn't going to stop and wait for her to recompose herself, so she just had to suck it up and deal with it, whatever "it" might be.
She stole another glance over at Daryl and heard him snoring lightly. He'd always been good about giving her some privacy when she needed it, giving her space when she needed time to herself or time to cool down. There was no one else she'd rather be assigned to go on supply runs with. And it wasn't even like she had feelings for Daryl, nothing more than the partnership that they shared when they were out on a run together at least. He just knew her better than any of the others did. He understood her and they were able to communicate without even having to say a word. They worked well as a two-man team, capable of completing whatever task was assigned to them quickly and efficiently. They never failed to deliver, even if they had to improvise. But more than that, Daryl respected her.
Kalina wasn't stupid. She'd seen the way the other men in the group looked at her. Hell both Merle and Shane looked at her like women looked at Ghirardelli's chocolates when they were on their period, like they had a craving and it wouldn't go away until they got a taste. They hadn't been shy about their advances either. Even T-Dog flirted with her. Dale was more of a father figure than anything and she avoided Hershel unless she really had to deal with him, due to the fact that he wasn't overly pleased by Rick's group being there on his farmland. Glenn was after Maggie like flies on shit and there was no denying it. And Rick was always too damn busy, worrying about an ever-bitching Lori and a constantly-disappearing Carl to worry about anything else.
Of course, Kali didn't miss the way that Carol watched her every move, especially when she was around Daryl. Lori was the same way when Rick came to talk to her or ask her for a favor. Lori was always scrutinizing Kali and Carol seemed to think that she was just going to swoop right in and steal Daryl away from her. In all due reality, Kali would never be interested in Rick – he just wasn't her type – and Carol had never had Daryl to begin with. And she found Andrea glaring or scowling at her every time she turned around, partly due to the fact that Dale had come to favor Kali over Andrea – who had always been his favorite before Kali had come along – and partly because of the fact that Kali had unfortunately managed to catch Shane's attention somehow. She knew that Andrea's hatred was spurred by the fact that the men in the group were very interested in her. But she wasn't interested in any of them.
So it was no fucking wonder why she kept to herself, why she avoided everyone else. It also explained why she preferred to spend her time with Hershel's horses. Animals were a hell of a lot easier to trust than humans. Even walkers were easier to trust than humans. You knew that a walker was going to try to eat you, regardless of how mangled and gnawed on they were or whether or not they had known you before they'd died and become one of those shuffling creeps. They had one thing and one thing only on their mind: to feed on anything, living or dead. Humans just acted nice and waited until the right moment, when you least expected it, before they stabbed you in the back or tried to use you to their advantage.
Kali wasn't stupid. She'd figured all this out after enough experiences in which people she'd thought were people she could trust had turned on her. Animals loved you unconditionally. They'd be faithful and helpful companions until they died. People, on the other hand, were selfish and unpredictable, especially after the apocalypse had broken out.
Kali had learned to read people, starting from a very early age and getting better and better with time. She could read anyone, even Daryl Dixon, and she knew that he hated that. No one else could read him. But she could. It was easy for her to read a person. They gave so much away, even if they were trying to hide their emotions. Their body language spoke volumes about their intentions. Their facial expressions conveyed their feelings. But nothing gave a person away more than their eyes.
That old expression "The eyes are the portal to a person's soul" was very true. A person could lie through their speech, their body language, sometimes even their facial expressions. They could mask their emotions if they had enough practice. But their eyes never lied. If you really wanted to get an accurate reading from a person, you looked into their eyes and searched there to see what they were thinking, what they were feeling.
That ability had saved her ass more times than she cared to admit, especially while she'd been doing her internship and later, after she'd been hired on at the same place. She'd honed the skills she'd acquired throughout her childhood, mastering the ability to gauge a person's responses and predict their actions. It was why she'd been hired instead of the other people that had applied, even though she lacked the "experience in the field". She'd impressed her employers and it had paid off.
But Kali's ability to read people had developed in part because of her ability to mask her own emotions and responses. It had been one of her coping mechanisms. Over the years, Kali had come to build up walls around her heart and her mind, walls so high, so thick, that no one could penetrate them. She never let those walls down for anyone. Not anymore. They'd only hurt her in the end, just like all the others before them. It was better to never get attached to someone and not get hurt than to let yourself form bonds and attachments to people and get hurt time and time again.
"Reactive Attachment Disorder". That was what they called it. The inability or lack of desire to form attachments to individuals due to neglect, abuse, or other maltreatment during childhood. Some children formed Reactive Attachment Disorder, which Kali had regretfully discovered she had many of the symptoms of – along with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder – while other children formed bonds with anyone, desperate for someone to love them since they had been starved of love as a child – Disinhibited Attachment Disorder. In fact, though she'd never bring it up with Daryl, she often suspected that the younger Dixon brother might also suffer from RAD. He distanced himself from others, avoided social interaction whenever possible, didn't seem to have any desire in forming bonds with any of the group members, and even went so far as to lash out at others when they made an effort to reach out to him. Kali was no stranger to the symptoms of RAD. It had become one of the many coping mechanisms her mind had developed in order to deal with her fucked up life.
During her childhood, she'd slipped in and out of this "numb" phase, in which her emotions had pretty much just shut down and she'd run on auto-pilot. She hadn't felt anything, not happiness or sorrow, not pain or anger, not even excitement. And it was safest for her mental state when she slipped into her numb phases. She'd been pretty much numb throughout her high school years until she'd managed to escape the hell that was her life and head off to college. After that, there had been the work force. But the people were all the same. They were only out for themselves and they didn't give a shit about her. She'd just been biding her time, trying to make a decent living for herself. Until she'd found him.
There had been one man, one person, that she'd let through those walls. And she'd regretted it ever since. Well… She couldn't really say that. She hadn't regretted the time she'd spent with him, the life they'd built together. She hadn't regretted the love he'd showered on her or the deep, intense love she'd felt for him in return. Julian had been her heart, her soul, her everything, despite how cliché it sounded. And he'd been taken from her, just like the few other good things she'd been granted in life.
She'd never forget his selflessness, even in the moments of his death, as he'd tried to barricade the door with his body as the walkers threw themselves against it. She'd never forget him shouting and waving for her to run, to go, to get as far away from there as possible. She'd never forget watching with horror and tears pouring down her cheeks as the zombies had made their way into the room and ripped him limb from limb. He'd rasped two words while gazing into her eyes as he drew his last breaths: "Love… you…".
Kalina gave a little sniff and reached up to wipe at her eyes again. She had to change the course of her thoughts or she'd slip into that dark place again. That was four months ago, the same day Daryl had found her fighting her way through a swarm of walkers.
She forced herself to focus on the task at hand though, her eyes roving over the property the farmhouse they were staying in was built on. She couldn't slack off on the job when their lives could be at stake.
Kalina woke with a start as she felt a hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her. She gasped and her bright green eyes snapped wide open as she jerked away from the touch, quickly reaching for her knife at the sheath on her belt.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Easy now," she heard a familiar voice caution.
She gave a sigh of relief and eased her hand away from the sheath as she realized that it was just Daryl. But if it was Daryl that had woken her… that meant that she'd fallen asleep on watch.
"Fuck!" she cursed, "Damn it, I'm sorry. The last thing I remember was starin' out at the fuckin' grass…"
Her eyes roamed over the tall grass again, finding that the sun was shining down on it now. The sun wasn't up too far yet though so it was still early morning, probably 7:00 or so.
Instead of scolding her like she'd expected though, Daryl just headed over to grab his pack and slung it over his shoulder, his trusty crossbow hanging off the other one.
"Right," she said, "We should go. The sooner we get movin', the more houses we can search."
Kali felt Daryl's eyes on her as she made her way over to pick up her pack. She'd made a quick pit stop and changed back into her faded, holey jeans before Daryl had taken his turn in the bathroom. But she'd felt his eyes on her once more as he followed her down the stairs. Hell, she felt his eyes on her clear out to the damn truck! But she tried to ignore it, setting her pack on the floorboard there in the passenger side of the truck before climbing on up into the truck.
Daryl set his crossbow and his bag against the back of the driver's seat to ensure that they wouldn't get jostled before making his way to the driver's side door and tugging it open. She closed the door behind her and stared out the window as he fished the keys out of his jeans' pocket and slid in behind the wheel. He fired the truck up and she tried to ignore the glances he kept stealing over at her after he pulled out onto the main road.
But ignoring him proved to be damn near impossible when she could practically feel his eyes boring into her.
She gently lifted Daryl's arm to get him to move it off of the console between them, feeling him jerk it away from her. He didn't like to be touched, but she could understand that. She didn't either.
She muttered a quick, "Sorry" before reaching out to fumble with the clasp on the console. She popped it open and took a peek inside, grinning to herself as she found the previous owner's stash of CDs.
"All right, let's see who owned ya before Dixon got his hands on ya," she commented, more to herself than Daryl as she unzipped the CD holder and started flipping through it.
A huge grin stretched clear across her face as she discovered that there was quite a nice selection of CDs to choose from. Whoever had owned this truck before them was a godsend in her book. There were Marilyn Manson CDs, Avenged Sevenfold CDs, The Cult CDs, Combichrist CDs, Def Leppard, Bon Jovi, Motley Crue, and AC/DC CDs. There were metal, hard rock, rock, and classic rock CDs of all kinds. Hell the CD holder was nearly full!
"Ha ha! Fuckin' jackpot, baby!" Kali cried gleefully, snagging a CD out and turning the stereo of the truck on.
She slid the CD in and pressed play. She flipped through the songs on the CD until she found the one she wanted and grinned from ear to ear, zipping the CD holder up and gently easing it back into the console. Daryl's arm was quick to resume its place on the console between them and she gazed out the window as a familiar song started to play.
She rarely ever sang in front of anyone, usually preferring to just hum along if she knew a song, but she chose to sing today. She knew that Daryl was stealing glances at her and her nerves were already worn a little thin, thanks to last night and that morning.
This'll hurt you worse than me.
I'm weak, seven days a week.
Don't run from me. I won't
Bother counting one, two, three...
I don't know which me that I love.
Got no reflection.
I don't know which me that I love.
Got no reflection.
Oh, ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah, oh
Oh, ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah, oh
Oh, ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah, oh
This'll hurt you worse than me.
I'm weak, seven days a week.
Don't run from me. I won't
Bother counting one, two, three...
I don't know which me that I love.
Got no reflection.
I don't know which me that I love.
Got no reflection.
"The fuck kinda music you listen to?" Daryl questioned when the song had ended.
Kali shrugged her shoulders and stated, "Whatever catches my interest. I never was one to walk the beaten path though. I was never a follower. I did my own thing. So, I tend to like shit that not too many other people do."
She heard another familiar song come on and she grinned from ear to ear.
"I think this one is perfect for our current situation," she pointed out, "It's called Arma-goddamn-motherfucking-geddon. And we just so happen to be in the middle of the fucking zombie apocalypse."
She smirked over at him and waggled her dark brows before bopping her head along to the beat of the song and starting to sing along.
Death to ladies first, then the gentlemen
All sorts of tax-free facelifts, abortion, nervous breakdance
Satanic girls gone wild, truly fucking suicidal
First you try to fuck it, then you try to eat it
If it hasn't learned your name, you better kill it before they see it
First you try to fuck it, then you try to eat it
If it hasn't learned your name, you better kill it before they see it
It's arma-goddamn-motherfucking-geddon
(Fuck, eat, kill, now do it again)
It's arma-goddamn-motherfucking-geddon
(Fuck, eat, kill, et cetera)
On the news, or is it the noose
They say results may vary
Side effects all vary
Arma-goddamn-motherfucking-geddon
Fuck the goddamned TV and the radio
And fuck making hits, I'm taking credit for the death toll
It's arma-goddamn-motherfucking-geddon
It's arma-goddamn-motherfucking-geddon
It's arma-goddamn-motherfucking-geddon
"You've got a twisted fuckin' sense of humor, ya know that?" she heard Daryl ask her.
She just shrugged her shoulders and replied, "So sue me. At this point, money won't getcha anywhere though."
He chuckled at that.
It was true though. Money wouldn't get a person anywhere now. The government sure as hell wouldn't have to worry about the damn economy now. There was no fucking economy! And there was no government either. It was every man for himself, or every group of men for themselves.
"Well I could play somethin' else," Kali offered, "But it's all rock, hard rock, classic rock, or metal, Dixon. So pick your poison."
She giggled at that and he stole a glance over at her, his brows wrinkling in confusion.
"Don't you get it?" she asked him, her own raven-colored brows wrinkling now, "You know… Poison? As in the classic rock band from the 80s?"
He just blinked and she gasped.
"Oh… my… God! Seriously? You've never heard of them?" she questioned in disbelief, her eyes growing real wide.
He just looked ahead at the road again and she asked, "So what did you listen to before the world went to shit?"
Daryl shrugged his broad shoulders and answered, "Lynard Skynard, John Mellencamp, Bruce Springsteen, Hank Williams Jr., Alabama, stuff like that."
She couldn't help but laugh at that. He was your "typical hick" then in that respect. But he wasn't your "typical hick" in most respects. People falsely labeled him all the damn time. Daryl might've been a redneck but that didn't mean he was stupid.
"What's so fuckin' funny?" he practically growled as she shook her head a little and laughed.
"Nothin'," Kali answered with a little smile, glancing out the window again, "Just figured somethin' else out about ya I guess."
"Like what?" he pressed.
"Oh… Like you're a southern rock junkie," she teased lightly, smiling and laughing to let him know that she was just teasing with him.
He gave her little glare but she could see from the amusement shining in those crystal blue orbs that he was just teasing too.
"Yeah and you're a metal head," he razzed right back.
She gave a bright smile at that and gazed out the windshield ahead of them.
Kalina had one more room to check downstairs in the house that they were currently checking out. She pushed the door open and her chest tightened. She swallowed the big lump in her throat even as she felt the back of her eyes sting as tears filled them. She choked on a sob as she brought a hand up to cover her mouth.
There, lying on the bed, was a large, black, shaggy-looking dog, its head resting on the lap of its dead owner. The owner had decided to take "the easy way out". They'd decided to "opt out" like Dr. Jenner had called it, his brains, blood, and parts of his skull painting the wall above the headboard in a gruesome design.
The dog lifted its head to look at her when she took a step into the room but didn't move from its spot. Its dark brown eyes, almost completely covered by its long, bushy eyebrows, held a blank stare as they gazed at her. She knew that expression. The poor dog was emotionally numb, like she'd been so many times in her 25 years of life.
She moved over to the nightstand, finding that there was a note laying on it. Her eyes skimmed over the page, finding a messily scrawled message:
To Whoever Finds This:
I just can't stand to live in a world that's so cruel and heartless. I don't want to live in a world where there's no more humanity. The cancer took my wife and the zombies took my daughter. All I have left here is Beau and he'll understand. He's a good pup. He's just a year old and he's still got a lot of life left in him. He'll make a faithful and loving companion. Please, take care of him like he deserves to be taken care of.
Larry
Kali choked on another sob as she looked over at the dog. Beau. His name was Beau, just like the puppy Julian had gotten her two years after they'd started dating. Was this a second chance? A chance to do it over? The Beau she'd loved had gotten hit by a car and it had devastated her.
Yet there lied this dog. Even after its owner's death, it had still refused to leave his side. He was faithful alright, just like Larry had written in his suicide note.
She wondered how long ago Larry had died. Judging by the looks of the blood on the wall, it hadn't been that long ago, maybe two or three days.
She looked at the dog and it looked at her. And that was when she knew what she had to do.
"Beau… he's dead, sweetie. He's not comin' back," she said, slowly approaching the dog, "But that doesn't mean that you hafta die too. I know you don't understand the words I'm sayin', but, if you come with me, I can take good care of you, just like he wanted. I can make sure you have food and that you're safe and warm and dry. I can take you back to a place where there are lots of people for you to play with. You'll get plenty of attention and affection."
The dog just blinked and her heart broke for him. She knew that blank stare, that emotionless state. She knew what it was like to feel hollow.
"How about food? I bet you haven't eaten in a while," she suggested, "Let me see if I have anything to give you."
She was quick to sling her pack off her shoulder and set it on the foot of the bed, rummaging through it until she found a couple pieces of beef jerky that Daryl had given her that morning, all that was left of the pack of jerky they'd found. She didn't care if she ate later. This poor animal needed it much worse than she did.
She took a piece out of the package and held it out to the dog, offering it the strip of jerky. Its head tipped back and it sniffed at the air before leaning a little closer to sniff at the jerky.
"It's okay," she crooned softly, "You can eat it, Beau."
She held her hand out even closer to the dog and it leaned forward to gently ease the strip of jerky out of her fingers, being careful of its teeth. It bolted the strip of jerky down and she knew then that the dog had to be hungry. So she took the other strip of jerky out of the package and held it out in a silent offering.
Just as he was finishing the second strip of jerky, she heard familiar footsteps coming down the hall, towards the room she was in.
"Ya find anythin' –," he started to ask before cutting himself off and cursing, "Shit…"
Kalina turned her head to look at him with tears filling her emerald eyes.
Her gaze met his crystal blue one and she opened her mouth to say, "Daryl –,"
But he was quick to cut her off, shaking his head hard and stating, "No."
"But, Daryl –," she started.
"No," he interrupted her again, his tone firmer this time, "We can't go takin' strays in."
"But, Daryl, look at him!" she cried at the injustice, gesturing to the dog's state of starvation.
"I see him just fine," Daryl pointed out, "We can't go takin' a damn dog in. How the fuck ya think we're gonna take care of it? Hell we can barely find food for the group as it is!"
Tears spilled down her cheeks as she shook her head. Of course he wouldn't understand what this meant to her, what the significance of this moment was. He didn't know what she'd lost, what finding this dog represented.
"You might not care if he dies but I do. I can't just let him stay here and wither away. I can't stand to walk out of this house and know that an innocent dog died because I didn't do anything to help him. You don't hafta do a damn thing, Dixon. I'll take care of him myself," she informed him, her voice cracking every so often.
"Kalina –," he tried to argue.
"Daryl, please!" she begged, looking up at him with what she knew was the same heartbroken expression she'd had when she'd first spotted the dog on the bed, "If I don't take him in, no one will. Can't you see that he's been layin' here for days? He hasn't left his owner's side even after the man blew his brains out. I can't… I just can't walk away and know that he's suffering…"
She'd already lost her Beau. She hadn't known he'd escaped from the fenced in backyard and gotten out onto the road… And when she'd gotten the call, she drove out to the spot where one of her neighbors had told her they thought the dog was running along the road… She'd found him... But he wasn't running anymore… He'd never be able to run again… She'd been at home when he'd gotten hit and was suffering… She'd sat there on that old country road with the dog's head on her lap while she waited for the vet to get there, begging and pleading with her furry companion to just hold on, to just hang in there until the vet managed to make it… But, by the time the vet had come out to check him out, there was nothing he could do for poor Beau…
She looked down at her lap and sniffled as she reached up to wipe at her eyes with one hand. And now, now that she had a chance to save this Beau… Now Daryl was telling her no.
She heard Daryl give a loud sigh and knew that he'd walk out of the house before he'd let her keep the dog. She buried her head in her hands, resting her elbows on her thighs, and started to cry. There was just no winning with Daryl when he'd made his mind up about something.
Then the most surprising thing happened. The dog got up from its spot beside its dead owner and slowly approached her. She felt its cold, wet nose against her arm just before it nudged at her lightly. It never made a sound, just nudged at her arm with its nose. She turned to the side just slightly and reached out, cradling the dog's face in her hands as she leaned in to rest her own forehead against the dog's.
"I'm sorry…" she murmured quietly, just barely above a whisper, her heart breaking into a million pieces even as her voice cracked and broke, "I tried…"
–=Daryl=–
Daryl swallowed hard as he watched Kalina cry, resting her forehead against the dog's. The mutt had gotten up from its spot beside its dead owner, something Daryl hadn't expected it to do. It had sensed Kali's distress and had gone over to sit beside her and nudge at her with its big nose. It let her cradle its big face as she cried.
But it wasn't necessarily the dog's interaction with Kali that got to him. Daryl had never seen her break down in the whole four months he'd known her. Sure, he'd seen her a bit rattled after a nightmare a few times. He'd seen her down in the dumps a couple times. He'd seen her tear up and turn away from him while he put an animal out of its misery when they went out hunting. But he'd never seen her like this.
He walked over to the foot of the bed and picked up the note the owner had left before blowing his damn brains all over the wall, reading it over. When he finished it, he glanced over at Kali and the dog again. The dog was sitting beside Kali, completely silent, nudging at her with its nose. It clearly didn't like her being upset.
He'd had a dog once as a kid, some terrier mix mutt, just a stray his mom had let him keep. It had always snuggled up to him after his old man had torn into him, offering him what comfort and sympathy it could. It had snarled and snapped at his old man any time he'd tried to lay into him. Daryl had loved that little dog. Then his dad had taken it out somewhere one night and dumped it, snarling that they "didn't have the money to keep feedin' no damn dog". Daryl wasn't stupid. He knew that his old man had gotten rid of the dog because it had stood up for him, something only his mom had done, up until she'd died. Then the dog had had to go too, leaving Daryl with no source of comfort.
Had Kali had a dog as a little girl? Had she had a dog to snuggle up with when it stormed? Had she had a dog to lick at her fingers when she was sad? Had she had a dog to make her laugh and smile when she wanted to cry? Every kid deserved to have a dog. And, while Kali seemed like she was a very mature woman, she was definitely a kid at heart at times too.
Daryl took one last look at Kali and the dog, finding that the dog was now licking at her cheek and she was giggling. He'd made his decision.
"All right," he sighed, "You can keep him. But you're gonna be the one ta fuckin' take care of him."
Kali's head snapped up and jerked around to look at him, her bright green eyes so wide and her mouth hanging open.
"Are you serious?" she whispered, clearly not believing him for even a second, "I can keep him?"
He nodded his head and replied, "'S what I said."
She narrowed those eyes at him and snarled, "Don't you play games with me, Dixon."
"I'm not playin' games," he retorted, "Now get your pack and get the dog and let's fuckin' go. We've got more houses ta check."
The most brilliant smile he'd ever seen stretched across her face. Hell her whole damn face lit up, her eyes shining and the tiny dimples beside her mouth showing.
She was quick to climb off the bed and rush over to him, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tight.
"Oh thank you!" Kali cried, "I can't tell you how much this means to me, Daryl."
He grunted in surprise, not having expected such a huge gesture of gratitude. She wasn't the kind that touched people to comfort them and she wasn't the kind that liked to be touched either. What he really hated was the way her soft, full breasts pressed up against him as she hugged him. Merle had guessed they were probably a 28C and they felt well-rounded. He'd heard Merle and Shane comment about them at least 100 times since he'd brought her back to the group four months ago.
But he didn't want to think about her like that. Daryl wasn't like the other guys. Sure, he was a guy, but he didn't look at women as just… playthings. She was his teammate. And he couldn't go thinking about fucking her.
He felt something fluttering in his stomach and knew that he had to get the fuck away from her. And fast! He swallowed hard and reached out to gently push her away.
"Don't fuckin' mention it," he told her as she stepped back and put a little bit more distance between the two of them, "Like ever."
She giggled at that and turned around to grab her pack.
"Come on, Beau. Let's go, baby. Let's blow this popsicle stand," she said to the dog, patting her thigh for him to follow her as she looked back at him.
The dog took one last look at Larry's lifeless form and hopped off the bed, trotting over to Kali and nudging at the back of her thigh with his nose.
At that point, even Daryl felt bad for the poor mutt. It was huge, probably around 2 1/2 feet tall at the shoulders, and it was covered in shaggy, black fur. But even all that fur couldn't hide the fact that it was bordering on emaciated. He didn't know how long the dog would live or if it would even stick around after they left the house, but he knew that he'd made the right decision when he saw the huge grin stretch across Kali's face. He'd never seen her smile like he'd seen her smile today, in the past five minutes alone.
Later that night, Daryl was sitting in front of the fire he'd made, his back resting against the log behind him. He stole a glance over at Kalina to find her chattering away to the big, black mutt. She scratched behind his ears as he sat between her legs in front of the log she was sitting on, his back facing her.
"Well… I think it's time that we fix some dinner, don't you, Beau?" she asked.
Daryl couldn't help but chuckle at that. Hell she was usually quiet when she was around the group members, and she was usually pretty quiet when she went on supply runs with Daryl too. But she just chattered away to that damn dog. She talked to it just like it was a human and it understood her. It was actually kind of comical.
But the dog must've taken a liking to her because it had followed her into every damn house they'd searched that day, ears perked up and that stump of a tail wagging. He refused to be left in the truck, pitching a regular bitch fit if Daryl tried to get Kali to leave him out in the truck.
The dog tipped its head back to look up at her and gave her a big doggy grin, making Daryl chuckle some more.
"How about we give Daryl what we managed to find this afternoon, huh? You think he'd like that?" she questioned, looking down at the dog.
Beau just panted and she grinned.
"All right. We'll give him the ravioli then," she stated, reaching for her pack and opening it up.
Daryl gave a little sigh and shook his head, tossing a stick he'd found on the ground beside him into the fire.
She'd managed to sneak some food into her pack for him yet again. And she'd just so happened to remember that he really liked ravioli. Hell he'd practically grown up on that stuff. Between that, spaghetti O's, and ham sandwiches. When a kid had to look out for themselves, they were quick to learn what shit was easy to fix so that they wouldn't have to go hungry.
"Shut up, Dixon," she told him, her voice holding a teasing tone, "Beau and I aren't gonna share our hash so you're just gonna hafta deal with ravioli. Besides, Beau can't eat ravioli."
He couldn't fight the little smile that curled at his lips. She'd managed to not only find his favorite canned food but hers too. She tossed the can of ravioli over to him and he caught it easily, slipping his knife from the sheath at his belt to open the can.
"Fork," she offered, holding it out towards him.
He chuckled. She always managed to think of everything. Apparently she'd thought enough to pack some silverware too.
She was quick to open her own can and she pitched the lid off into the woods somewhere, a habit that he'd taken to as well after he'd seen her do it a couple times. He gave his a fling over his shoulder and dug his fork into the can, stabbing a piece of ravioli and bringing it up to his mouth. He didn't even bother trying to cut it. He just crammed the whole piece into his mouth. It didn't matter that it was cold either. It was ravioli and the food had been processed before it'd been put into the damn can anyway.
He heard Kalina giggling and looked over to find her watching him, a grin stretching across her face even as she laughed.
"The fuck's so funny?" he asked her, his brows wrinkling as he looked over at her after he'd finished chewing and swallowing.
"You," she replied, "I never realized you had such a big-assed mouth, Dixon."
He gave a single snort of laughter, rolling those crystal blue eyes at her, and she giggled some more.
Daryl stabbed another piece of ravioli and dunked it into the sauce before lifting it up to his mouth, watching as Kali pulled a plastic bowl out of her pack and set it on the ground. She leaned over and started to scoop some hash out of the can and into the bowl for the dog to eat, using her fork and making sure that she didn't leave part of his portion in the can. She wound up giving him about half of the can and Daryl opened his mouth to say something but stopped, seeing the bright smile that curled her lips as she watched the big mutt chow down. Hell he practically inhaled the food!
She scratched at his back and praised, "That's a good boy, Beau. I bet you like that, dontcha?"
It didn't take the dog long to finish his food. Hell he was finished before Daryl was! When the dog had finished his food, he licked the bowl clean and Kali poured some water into the bowl for him. Then she returned her attention to her hash.
Kali had always been a slow eater. She always teased Daryl about how quickly he ate unless he was lost in thought. She said she didn't know how he could even taste his food because he made it "pull the disappearing act" so quickly that he had to have inhaled it. She joked that "men were human garbage disposals" and that "as long as there was a man or a dog around, she'd never have to worry about her leftovers". It made Daryl laugh. But it was true. She usually passed her leftovers on to him. Of course, it sure as hell didn't help when she'd take him her leftovers after the rest of the group had left and insist that he eat them. Every time he tried to ask her why she was giving them to him, she'd just answer "Well, you're my favorite", which he hated. She never left until he took them either.
He'd noticed that she had the funny little habit of eating one food at a time if they ever had more than one food in the same meal. She ate her meat first, then her vegetables, then her fruit, and finally dessert, if they had any. Granted, food was a luxury now. So it wasn't often that they had more than one kind of food, especially when they went out on supply runs. They always tried to save as much of the food they found as they could, knowing that the group was always in need of food.
Last night, her rice had been a real treat. Granted, Daryl hadn't really been a big fan of peas until she'd come along and insisted that they were good for him and that she could manage to make them taste good. She never forced him to eat what she fixed but he ate it anyway. Food was food. Her cooking was a hell of a lot better than any of the other women's in the group. And she didn't try to get him to eat foods she knew he didn't like either. That being said, he hated pickles and mayonnaise. And peanut butter. But she didn't like mayo either and she only ate sweet pickles. She loved peanut butter though. Hell she'd eat that shit straight out of the damn jar with a fucking spoon! But he knew that she'd never fix anything for him that she wouldn't at least try to eat herself.
He glanced up at her as he polished his can of ravioli off, finding her taking small bites of her hash. Beau had lapped up all the water and licked the bowl clean again and was now lying at her feet, all curled up. Kali finished her food and tossed her empty can over her shoulder.
Daryl did the same and Kali packed the bowl back into her pack, informing the dog, "We'll wash it at the next house, sweetie."
"We'd be better off sleepin' in the truck tonight," Daryl stated as he got to his feet, kicking dirt onto the fire to douse it.
Kali nodded, getting to her feet and prompting, "Come on, Beau. Let's go potty. Then we'll go sleep in the back seat and let Daryl take the front seat since I know he won't want the back seat. And there's no point in arguin' with him and tellin' him that I know the back seat is comfier. So we'll just take the back seat and let the stubborn ass have the cramped front seat, won't we?"
The dog perked right up, getting to his feet and trotting along behind her, gazing up at her as he wagged that stump of a tail. Daryl waited for them to go about their business behind a large bush before he took his turn. Then he followed them over to the truck and climbed into driver's seat, reaching back to set his crossbow beside his pack on the floorboard behind his seat.
Kali pulled the back door of the truck open and set her bag on the floorboard on the opposite side from the one Daryl had left his bag and crossbow on. She kicked off her shoes and lied on her side on the back seat, her little 5'3" frame not taking up much room. The dog hopped right up and lied down beside her on his side. Daryl made sure all the doors were locked and the windows were rolled up before he rested back against the driver's side door, stretching his long legs out over the console and the passenger seat.
He stole a peek back at Kali and found her face buried into the dog's back, her arm draped over his shaggy-haired side. The dog looked over at Daryl and gave a sigh of contentment, making Daryl crack a smile. He knew exactly what the dog was thinking. "This is the life." And, for that dog, it was. Now he had food, constant company, and a safe, warm place to sleep. That was all the dog cared about. He didn't care that he'd been fed cold corn beef hash out of the can. He didn't care that it had been a small meal. He didn't care that he was sleeping in a truck. Home was where the heart was for that dog. And it made Daryl realize that, despite the damn zombie apocalypse, life wasn't all that bad. It was a hell of a lot better than the fucked up childhood he'd suffered through and the hard times he'd faced trying to make ends meet once he'd started moving around with Merle after high school, doing whatever odd jobs they could find to rake in a little bit of cash. The damn dog was right. This was the life, walkers or not. As long as he had the bare necessities to survive, he'd get by.
He fell asleep with a small smile tugging at his lips.
Lyrics from the Songs:
This Is the Life by Amy Macdonald
No Reflection by Marilyn Manson
Arma-goddamn-motherfucking-geddon by Marilyn Manson
(Don't skip!) Well, as always, if you managed to make it this far – I know, I know, it was a long assed chapter – then I congratulate you and thank you from the bottom of my twisted little heart. If you're even bothering to read this author's note – which most people don't and probably skipped right over the first one anyway – then I also commend you. I can't thank you enough for taking the time out of your busy schedule to read this. It means the world to me – it really does. I'd like to take this time to remind you that I would really appreciate your feedback and that I eat your messages and reviews up like candy. I don't care whether you hated the story or you loved it. Just please let me know what your thoughts were. As a writer, there's nothing more helpful and insightful than a reader telling me their thoughts about my chapters and one-shots. Honestly, I don't mind criticism, as long as it's constructive – let me know what parts you didn't like and how I can improve them. Let me know what could be expanded upon, what could be cut, what could be tweaked. I'll never be able to improve upon my writing if I don't know what I'm doing right and what I'm doing wrong. The most effective reviews are ones that let me know what my strengths and weaknesses are – tell me what you liked, let me know what you didn't like. You can always message me or review me with any comments, concerns, or questions you might have. Thanks again, for your time and I really appreciate you taking said time to read this.
Just a final note: I'd like to take this time to personally thank everyone that's helped me along so far.
To Shadows7X: I love you to death, dear , and I can't thank you enough for always supporting and encouraging me. Without you pushing me, I wouldn't be to this point in my writing. And no one would be reading any of the stories I post on here because I never would've known about the irresistible Norman Reedus if you hadn't have provided me with the episodes from the show, which then sparked my interest in checking out as many of his other movies as I could – which haven't been many since his movies are really hard to get a hold of. You're better than even the best friend I could've ever imagined, better than any friend I could've ever asked for. You're closer to me than my own family, dear, and I love you dearly. You were the one that read all my stories before I ever started posting. You're the only one that has access to all of my stories, both Fanfiction and original. You give me the most in-depth and informative reviews I've ever read. But, more than anything, you've pushed me when I wanted to give up. You've been there for me when I needed someone to turn to. And you always reminded me of how proud of me you were, how you thought I could do anything I put my mind to. I'll never be able to thank you enough for that.
To Mizu. no. Oujo. 1967 (I had to put spaces in because Fanfiction is a little bitch and deletes it, thinking it's the link to a website): I can't thank you enough for taking the time out of your hectic, stressful schedule to send me extensive messages and keep in contact with me on a personal basis – outside of just my writing. It really means a lot to hear from you and I'd consider you a great friend. I'd also like to thank you for adding me on Facebook and helping me out with my brainstorming process.
To taliamarie77: I'd like to thank you for looking me up and adding me on Facebook. Not only are your posts an endless source of amusement but you've also helped me tremendously with my brainstorming process. And, of course, you've been a source of support and encouragement. So I can't thank you enough for all the help you've given me.
To Borch: I look forward to each and every one of our message and I'm awful glad to have you as a friend. I can't thank you enough for taking the time out of your busy schedule to message me and keep in touch with me. And for being so patient when it takes me a while to respond.
If I missed anyone, please don't hesitate to let me know.
Now… Let me know what you thought! All reviews and messages are highly appreciated and I do respond to all of them. If you're kind enough to take the time out of your busy schedule to read and review for me, then I'll take the time to thank you for it and let you know my thoughts on what you said. I actually enjoy hearing from my readers and I've become friends with a few of them. So you can always message me with your comments, questions, concerns, or suggestions.
With Much Love from Your Crazy, Twisted Author,
Rose
