A/N Welcome to chapter 2! Remember to jump over to Walking Dead Fan Fiction . com to check out this story that also features character pictures and profiles (which gives little sneak peaks for what is to come). To answer a reviewer's question, I generally try to post a chapter a week, typically on the weekend. Sometimes I have trouble uploading to this website, so if it gets to the end of the week and there's no new chapter, try checking AO3 or Walking Dead Fan Fiction . com
Thanks for all the reviews, it's so great seeing so many new readers reviewing, and to see reviewers from the previous story too :-)
With her interview concluded, Carrie relished the prospect of what Deanna had offered her, the gratuitous chance to take a hot shower without delay. Everything had gone well in the interview, and now that it was over she could breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that it wasn't nearly as bad as she had thought it might be. She had always been assured that Deanna would welcome her to Alexandria, that the nod of approval from Aaron and Rick was the only endorsement she needed, but she had still been apprehensive. Throughout the surprisingly short interview, she had come to realise that she actually liked Deanna, whose warm and welcoming personality almost immediately put her at ease.
With the foresight to know she would need it, Deanna had already arranged for Carrie's pack to be brought from the car for her. Putting it over her shoulder, she looked around the townhouse as Deanna led her towards the stairs, and she marvelled over the simple luxuries that they must take for granted. It was warm and dry in here, the electricity worked…water flowed from the taps on demand. Though she had known all of these luxuries existed in Alexandria, and they they would be hers for the taking, it was still a difficult notion for Carrie to wrap her head around. Still unsure of what to make of it, she looked forward to the moment when she closed the bathroom door and found solitude. She was comfortable in Deanna's company, but she longed for some privacy, for the ability to put her head into her hands for a few moments and close her eyes.
"There are toiletries and towels in the cupboard," Deanna told her, showing her through the basement level. "Take as much as you'd like, and just put your towel in the hamper."
Looking around, Carrie took note that one end of the basement seemed to be a living area or games room, while the other on first glance must be an office. There was a desk covered in papers, a large whiteboard with notes and what looked like an outline of the community. The two rooms on opposite ends of the basement were divided by the bathroom Deanna was showing her to.
"Take your time, there's no need to worry about the water. When you're finished, come on upstairs. If I'm not here, make yourself at home. Eat, drink," she implored, and Carrie knew she meant it.
"I will. Thank you."
Carrie smiled and nodded, saying and doing all the right things until Deanna finally ascended the stairs and left her alone. Surprised by how readily the leader of this community trusted a stranger to be left alone in her home, she tentatively entered the bathroom and closed the door, breathing a sigh of relief when she locked it behind herself. Somewhat at a loss for what to do now, she spent longer than necessary looking at the door handle, wondering how to proceed next. Putting her pack down on the floor, she slowly turned and looked around the bathroom, surprised by how nice it was. All of the houses here seemed to be nicely decorated and well maintained, and it was startlingly different to the houses she knew were outside the walls. This bathroom was clean and fresh, the wide basement window admitting natural light through the frosted glass…it was a contrast to the bathrooms she had seen in abandoned houses. They were typically musty and smelled faintly of putrid water, that was if they didn't smell like Walkers.
Running her hand over the marble counter, she looked into the mirror, grimacing at the face that was looking back at her. Just like she had a few days ago in the real estate office, she took the time to critique her appearance, and she was glad Deanna must be used to seeing people in various states. Her neck and upper chest were still covered in red blood smears from the Walker she had killed that morning, and overall she looked rather unkempt. As she critiqued herself, she was pleased to note that the bruises on her neck and clavicle had changed colour and shape, and could now be attributed to injuries from her night in Franklin, not from Rick giving her hickeys. Touching them, she smiled as those memories came back to her. She couldn't help but wonder when she was going to see him next, if she might find him down at the trucks that afternoon. That morning he'd mentioned wanting to get the plants off the back of the military truck, needing to tend to them after their long journey from the prison in their little greenhouse. Though they'd be living separate lives in separate houses, she hoped she'd be able to see him again soon, that she'd be able to see all of the group from the supply run. To her, they were more than her friends, that they were most definitely her safety net.
Glancing at the shower cubicle, which awaited her patiently, Carrie opened up the bathroom cabinet and helped herself as Deanna had requested. The shampoo and conditioner bottles in there had been used before, and she wondered who else had arrived here in Alexandria, had their interview and then cleaned themselves up in this bathroom. Pleased to find a new loofah still in its packaging, she took advantage of everything she could use, dumping it all on the floor of the shower cubicle before excitedly turning it on. Just as everyone had promised her, the first stream of water was warm, and it rushed through her fingers and ran down her forearm as it grew warmer. Not wasting a second more, she hastily undressed, tossed her clothes aside and then stepped inside. Barely holding back her cry of joy, she adjusted the temperature until it was comfortable, groaning in relief as she began enjoying the warmth. Happiness welled up in her chest, bursting out of her in a joyful laugh as the water beat down against her body. For the longest moment she simply stood there and enjoyed the feeling of warm, clean water rushing over her body, watching as it swirled around her feet and disappeared down the drain.
It seemed so normal.
Eagerly getting to work, she lathered up her hair with shampoo and massaged her scalp, mindful of the cut that was still sore. She had washed her hair at the prison and the underground bunker, but the warm, quick flowing water made it all the better this time, letting her feel as though she actually was getting it clean. Her fingers working over her scalp felt incredible, the sensation only improving as she washed the suds out and felt how clean and smooth her hair was now. Letting the hot water beat down against her shoulders she smoothed some conditioner through her hair and twisted it into a bun at the base of her neck, leaving it to work while she attended to other things.
Adjusting the direction of the shower head, she sat down and applied some shaving cream to her legs, enjoying yet another luxury and she shaved her legs again. She couldn't help the stupid grin that was plastered over her face right now…she didn't want to help it either. She hadn't been able to care for her body like this since before the outbreak, and she took the chance the moment it was presented to her, knowing never to forgo the opportunity. Enjoying the sensation of her smooth legs, she flinched as she aggravated the large bruises on her shin. It was a little painful to walk on, a frustrating reminder of when she had fallen over the edge of a fountain that night in Franklin.
Revelling in every moment, Carrie made sure to scrub every inch of her body, washing away as much evidence as the world outside as she could. It was a cathartic feeling, every swipe of the loofah across her skin ridding her of the life she was leaving behind, although not forever. Inside these walls she would be safe, but the outside could not be forgotten. It would remain out there no matter how comfortable life inside the walls was…it could not be ignored. With this in mind, Carrie slowly got back to her feet and reached her arms high above her head, feeling her muscles stretching and benefitting from the hot water that pounded down on them. Removing her hair from the bun at the base of her neck, she ran her fingers through it and washed out the conditioner.
Standing underneath the water a little longer, she stopped thinking so much, letting her mind wander instead. Not surprisingly, she felt amazingly content right now, even though she could feel a hint of sadness building in the pit of her stomach. Some of the things that had come up in her interview had been difficult to discuss, none more so than Shannon. Carrie wished for many things these days, but none more so than her, the young girl's death having hit her particularly hard. Given where she was today, and that her main task had once been getting Shannon through each and every day, and knew it was guilt that grew in the back of her mind. Shannon deserved to be here too.
Feeling her emotions start to turn for the worse, Carrie hastily shook herself out of it, not wanting that to be how she spent her first day in Alexandria. Enjoying the last few minutes of the shower, she turned off the water and then wrung out her long hair, smiling again as she marvelled over how clean it was. When she stepped out of the shower and wrapped her hair in a towel, she smiled at her reflection in the mirror, seeing a significant improvement over the woman she had looked at before. She dried herself off and began to redress in the last of her clean clothing. In their haste to pack and get moving, the workout gear and shoes she had taken from Walmart had gone astray.
Dressing in her yoga pants, she was annoyed to find that she had no clean bras left, and though she normally would just put on her old one, she couldn't bear the thought of that today. It was rather smelly by now, and the thought of putting it on when she was finally clean wasn't exactly pleasant. Instead she chose to simply go without it, glad that her last clean shirt was a dark blue tank top. She doubted anyone would care, let alone notice that she wasn't wearing a bra. Thankful she at least had clean socks, she pulled them and her boots back on before roughly towel drying her hair and combing it. Peering at it critically, she looked at the section she had been forced to hack off a few months ago, having been unable to wash out the Walker guts that had dried into a clump. Rick had noticed it the first time they'd slept together, having been running his fingers through her hair. Looking at it now, Carrie hoped to run into the resident named Jessie sooner or later, having heard she enjoyed cutting hair for newcomers.
Stuffing her dirty clothing into her pack, she organised her weapons and put them in too, having no way of carrying them while wearing yoga pants. She wouldn't need them inside the walls, already knowing Deanna didn't like the residents being armed, but they were close at hand for now, and that's all the reassurance she needed. Bracing herself, she put her used towels into the hamper and then slung her pack over her shoulder. Exiting the bathroom, she resisted the temptation to take a look around the basement level and instead went straight upstairs as instructed. All was quiet, but she could sense the presence of another person, and so she knew Deanna was still there. Depositing her pack by the front door, she headed off in search of Deanna, nervous for what would happen next, for where she'd be taken to live. There had been a lot of people welcoming them there that day, and the community itself was much larger than she had anticipated.
"Deanna?" she called out, unsure of where she was.
There was a small squeak of surprise, and a moment later someone appeared out of no where in the dining room. Visibly flustered, a women with shoulder length brown hair looked at Carrie in alarm, and for a moment she wondered if she had somehow wandered into the wrong house. There was a moment of awkward tension before the woman gave an embarrassed laugh, and what seemed like a genuine smile followed it.
"Hi," the woman greeted her with a friendly smile, her accent similar to Rick's. "You're Carrie, right?"
"Yes," she nodded, slowly entering the dining room. Looking at the woman, she took an educated guess as to her identity. "You're Maggie? Glenn's wife?"
"Yes," she smiled. There was an awkward moment, the two of them suddenly realising Maggie was holding a screw driver in her hand. She gestured back to a power outlet, looking a little flustered. "It wasn't working," she said quickly, pocketing the screw driver. "I was just fixing the wires."
Unsure of why Maggie was explaining herself, Carrie just nodded and smiled. "It's nice to meet you," she said honestly. "Glenn's told me a lot about you. Actually, everyone has."
Relaxing a little, Maggie returned her smile, nodding. "I've heard about you too," she said. There was a short pause now, Maggie looking a little uncertain. "Deanna asked me to wait with you…she also mentioned force feeding you if necessary."
Laughing, Carrie followed as Maggie ushered her into the kitchen. "She's very…caring."
"She is," Maggie agreed. "So, what would you like to eat? We've got a fresh loaf of bread, I could make us some sandwiches."
"That would be great, thank you."
Looking at her with a wry smile, Maggie took a fresh loaf of bread from a metal canister and laid it out on a cutting board. "You've been out there like I was," she began, gesturing in the direction of the walls. "I bet you'd eat anything I served up."
"Yes."
"Why don't you make us some drinks?" Maggie suggested, seeing she was lingering uncertainly, feeling ill at ease. Picking up a bread knife, she indicated to the kettle which was beginning to boil. "Rosita tells me you like green tea."
Nodding, Carrie was grateful for something to do, not used to allowing a stranger to fuss over her needs. She remembered her first night with the group, how Rosita and Michonne had fussed over her, bringing her food and making sure she was warm enough. It had been strange then and it was strange now, although not unwelcome.
"What tea would you like?" she enquired, seeing a wide selection in a wooden display box.
"The one with ginger, please. Not too strong."
"Oh, I have your coat, by the way," Carrie suddenly remembered. "Glenn leant it to me at the prison. I'll…I'll wash it before I give it back," she continued, starting to ramble. "It's kind of covered in…well, you know."
Maggie just smiled, glancing at her over her shoulder. "Did it keep you warm? Dry?"
"Yes," she nodded gratefully. "Thank you. I'll-"
"You keep it. If it kept you warm and dry, then it's yours."
"Thank you," she said gratefully, ignoring the urge to insist Maggie take it back, not wanting to have commandeered her belongings.
"You're welcome. Besides, I think it will be too small for me."
There was silence as the two women worked, but to Carrie's surprise it was perfectly comfortable, despite the fact that they were strangers. Completely at ease in Deanna's kitchen, Maggie whizzed around and gathered some filling for their sandwiches, stopping only to pick a stray baby toy she found abandoned in the corner. Putting it into a brown satchel that sat on the kitchen bench, Maggie began slicing some tomato and laying them out across the sandwiches.
"Do you know where I'll be living?" Carrie enquired, both to make conversation and to satisfy her curiosity.
Maggie smiled, thanking her when she put her mug of tea on the bench. "I have my suspicions," she said coyly. "It's…a shared house."
Carrie had suspected as much, though the notion was intimidating. "What are the people like?"
"Oh, I could tell you stories…I think you'll like them," she assured her, cutting the sandwiches and putting them onto some plates. "Let's eat outside?"
Thanking her, Carrie took her plate and mug and followed Maggie out onto the terrace, enjoying the fresh air and sun on her face. They sat down at the table and ate in comfortable silence, even though Carrie was tempted to interrogate poor Maggie about the people she might be living with, about what life was like here in Alexandria. Now that the interview was over and she was about to join her new household, she couldn't wait to get settled in as quickly as possible, presently feeling like she was in a state of limbo. The sandwich Maggie had made was delicious, the soft bread filled with fresh food that had to have come from the small garden Rick had told her about. Complimenting it, Carrie gave in to the urge to ask questions about Alexandria, though she tried not to hammer Maggie with them.
"There'll be a party soon" Maggie warned her a short while later, giving her a sympathetic smile. "For you, for the supply runners."
"When?" she asked, feeling apprehensive.
"Maybe the day after tomorrow, or perhaps even Monday. That would coincide with Judith's birthday, but I don't think Rick would mind."
"You sound worried about this party."
Maggie just shrugged. "It can be overwhelming…Deanna threw one for us when we arrived here. But the focus won't just be on you. By then, we'll have unpacked the supplies, taken inventory…from the look of it you brought back a lot."
"Yeah, they did."
"You all did," Maggie corrected her, emphasising Carrie's involvement. "From what I hear, you weren't dead weight."
"Thanks," she muttered, knowing it had certainly felt that way sometimes.
Twenty minutes passed in pleasant company, Carrie and Maggie finishing their food and then sitting back, enjoying the opportunity to get to know one another, even if only superficially. Although comfortable and at ease, Carrie was relieved when Deanna returned, also in the company of Aidan and the rest of her family. Introducing her to Spencer, Deanna was pleased to see that Carrie had eaten.
"No force feeding required," Maggie assured her.
"Good," Deanna said, sounding like she truly meant it. "Well, Carrie. Why don't you and I make a visit to the Pantry and grab you a few things, and then I'll introduce you to your new house mates."
"That sounds nice, thank you."
Standing up, Carrie went to clear the plates, but Maggie swiftly beat her to it batting her hands away. "Deanna, is it the house I think it is?" Maggie enquired, stacking their plates and mugs.
"Of course," Deanna nodded, winking at her.
Her apprehension growing a little, Carrie thanked Maggie before grabbing her pack and following Deanna. Politely farewelling Aidan and Spencer, who were presently arguing about who was going to do Aidan's laundry, she headed out onto the street. From here she could take another look at the imposing walls, observing the church steeple she had seen earlier. It was a short walk to the pantry two houses down, but it was enough time for Carrie to once again enjoy the peaceful nature of Alexandria. They met Olivia on the front steps, and though she had a kind and welcoming face, Carrie couldn't help but feel ill at ease, as though Olivia was scrutinising her at first.
"Your weapons must be in your bag?" Deanna enquired after making the introductions.
"Yes," she admitted, though she was reluctant for Deanna to take them away from her. Though she knew she was safe here, a part of her was still on full alert, her eyes scanning her surroundings, making sure she was safe.
"I've already spoken to Abraham," Olivia told them. "He'll send people over in groups to return their weapons throughout the afternoon. Aidan already turned his in."
"Good," Deanna nodded, looking to Carrie. "Hang onto yours for now, Abraham can sort you out later. For now, let's get you everything you'll need. Olivia?"
"Come this way," Olivia eagerly ushered her downstairs to the basement level, fixing a piece of lined paper onto her clipboard and writing at the top. "Can you spell your last name for me?"
Spelling it for her, Carrie followed her down the hallway, glancing up at the chalkboard filled with neat writing. As she stepped into what must be the garage, her eyes widened as she looked at the array of shelving and the items on display, immediately feeling overwhelmed by it all. It reminded her of the stockpile in the basement of the couponer's house, and the one at the underground bunker just outside of Franklin. Everything was nearly organised and arranged according to type. Yet as she took a step inside and looked around properly, she noticed that the supplies were not as vast as she first thought, that although the shelves were populated with a variety of items, they were not full.
There wasn't as much as one would like to keep a community the size of Alexandria sustained. They definitely needed what had been retrieved on the supply run, what had been brought back from the prison. Her eyes cast over the shelves of tinned and pickled good, she felt a flicker of annoyance, remembering Rick's comment about how small the vegetable garden was. If Rick's group hadn't arrived and agreed to help manage the supply run, what would these people have done? Would Aidan and Nicholas simply kept trying to find supplies in the immediate area? Having taken in the size of Alexandria and the reported size of the vegetable garden, she couldn't help but feel annoyed with them already. It seemed their future planning left a little to be desired.
"Here, let's get you started off," Olivia said kindly, handing Carrie an actual shopping basket and showing her where to start. "Toothbrush, toothpaste. There's floss if you want it, mouthwash too. Then you've got your shampoo and conditioner, face wash, moisturising cream, razors, nail files, Q tips, Kleenex…"
Struggling to take it all in, Carrie slowly started filling the basket at Olivia's encouragement, who seemed to have no comprehension how luxurious these items were. With each item that went into her basket, Carrie knew it should have gotten easier for her, but it didn't. The more she tried, the harder the choices became to make…did she want green apple shampoo, or strawberry? Did it even matter?
"Here," Olivia said kindly, picking up on her struggle to make a decision. She took the green apple shampoo and conditioner and placed it into her basket for her. "The green apple is nicer. Do you want floss? The Oral B tastes like feet, I'd go with the Colgate."
Letting Olivia help her, Carrie filled her basket with toiletries, even accepting a pack of tampons she hadn't needed for months now. Deanna waited patiently for her out on the street, and when Carrie followed Olivia upstairs to look at clothing, she could see her talking to various residents, laughing as her hands wildly gestured.
"I'll put these things into a bag for you," Olivia offered, handing Carrie a large cloth bag for her to use. "Take at least ten bras, underwear and socks. Then you've got jeans, sweats, skirts, shorts, tee-shirts, dresses, blouses…take some of everything."
This task was even harder for her to comprehend than the toiletries. This level of the townhouse was stocked with an enormous range of clothing, some of it arranged on clothing racks, some of it stuffed into large boxes or storage tubs. Unsure of where to start, she slowly looked through the racks of clothing, choosing her first item at Olivia's repeated encouragement. Struggling to find something to fit her frame, she had to settle for clothing that was slightly too big, knowing she would continue gaining weight just as she had for the last three weeks. When Olivia finished packing up her toiletries she came over and helped, her assistance speeding up the process.
As the bag began to fill and the list on the clipboard grew, Carrie felt strange to be looking at everything she was taking, at the clothing which was now hers. Though Olivia was nothing but friendly and generous, Carrie wished she were alone again, that she could have a little solitude to process all of this. Being totally honest with herself, she knew it was the prospect of meeting her new housemates that she dreaded, not wanting to have to make small talk with people she didn't know, with people who didn't understand what it was like outside the walls. Not for the first time since leaving the supply run group, she wished she was back in their company, that Michonne hadn't believed her when she said she'd be alright.
"Oh, Unicorn," Olivia smiled, gesturing to the image embroidered on the back pocket of the sweatpants Carrie had chosen. "Nice choice."
Carrie just smiled…they were the only sweats that had a chance of fitting her. Giving Olivia a moment to double check the list of items Carrie was taking, she looked around and then started making some small talk. "So you run this place?"
"Yeah," Olivia said proudly. "Everyone helps out, but this is my domain. Do you know how to use a spreadsheet?"
"A spreadsheet?" she questioned. Though she knew what she referred to, the concept of it felt foreign. "Like on a computer?
"Yeah," Olivia nodded. "It would be nice to have a computerised version of the inventory, but I can never get it just right. I always screw things up, and then I try to make a chart from the data and it just…ugh."
"I err…I've used a spreadsheet or two." She'd used thousands throughout her career…she knew the program like the back of her hand.
"Great. I hope you don't mind, but in that case I'm calling dibs on you helping in the pantry."
Carrie laughed at this, amused by Olivia's relief and her eagerness for assistance. "Thanks, Olivia…for all this."
"No problem. I can't wait to get my hands on whatever you've got in those trucks," she winked. "But Abraham wants to co-ordinate the unpacking."
"Sounds like him," Carrie agreed, collecting both her bags and following Olivia downstairs.
"Is there anything else you need?" Olivia asked in concern. "Anything at all."
"No," she said immediately, already feeling like she'd taken more than she needed. "Thank you."
Encouraging her to come by for anything at all, Olivia walked her back out onto the street where Deanna was waiting for her. Just as before, Deanna was talking to some other residents, and Carrie braced herself for the inevitable small talk, for the introductions. But to her great relief, Deanna quickly made her farewells and returned to her, leaving the others to observe her at a distance.
"We can do introductions once you're settled in," Deanna assured her. "For now, let's just get you home."
Fussing and making sure that Olivia gave her everything she needed, Deanna insisted on taking one of her bags for her. Slinging her pack over her shoulder and carrying her bag full of clothing, she let Deanna lead the way up the street, the two of them making a left turn at the end.
"That there is the infirmary," Deanna told her, pointing to a white house that overlooked the lake. "I encourage you to go and see Pete in the next few days, especially with that bruise on your leg. And this house is where Aaron lives with his partner Eric. I think you'll like Eric, he's even sweeter than Aaron."
Though she listened attentively as Deanna pointed out a few houses to her, Carrie glanced down at the five vehicles that had become her home for two and a half weeks now. Though the crowd had dissipated, quite a few people still hung around, and she caught sight of Abraham and Tobin standing in the back of the military truck, clearing a path so they could get the greenhouses down. Nervous about the house mates she was about to meet, for a moment Carrie wished they were still out on the road, but she quickly shook this thought from her head. Though it was harder than she expected, even having only been in Alexandria for a little over an hour, ungratefulness would not benefit anyone.
"Jessie and Pete live here," Deanna continued, indicating to the house on their right. "Jessie is our resident stylist, she'd love to give you a hair cut any time you'd like one."
"That would be nice," she admitted, her hair whipping across her face with a sharp gust of wind.
Looking ahead of her, she saw that the road curved to the left and ended, and beyond that were more walls. It was a comfort to see them again, and her eyes had unconsciously been scanning her surroundings for them ever since she stepped foot outside from the Pantry. There were two more houses after Jessie's, and her heart sped up a little, knowing her new home had to be one of these. Putting on her most confident facade, she kept her face calm and impassive as Deanna led her past the middle house and towards the last, number one hundred and one. Like all the others here in Alexandria, it was both beautiful and imposing, though not on the obnoxious way her childhood home had been. On the facade it seemed homely much in the way Deanna's had…there was a comfortable seating area on the porch, and a set of children's blocks had been left on the coffee table.
"I suspect you'll like your room mates," Deanna assured her, knocking on the front door even though it was wide open. "You already have a lot in common with them."
"Thank you," she said once again, hoping Deanna understood how much she meant it. "Really, I - Michonne?"
It was none other than Michonne who came to the front door, and Carrie hadn't been this glad to see a familiar face since the night she got lost in Franklin. She stared at her open mouthed for a long moment, both shocked and elated as it clicked that Michonne was one of her room mates.
"Hey," Michonne greeted her nonchalantly, waving at her to come inside. "Good timing, I just put on a pot of coffee. It's the nice stuff too, I know you don't like instant."
Shocked, Carrie slowly followed her inside the house, her hands tightly gripping her bag as she looked around. It had never occurred to her that she might share with a person that she knew. She had got the impression that Rick and his group all lived together, that they all…as realisation began to dawn on her, she turned back to Michonne.
"Who else lives here?" she enquired breathlessly, beginning to look around properly. As Deanna's was, the house was comfortably furnished and decorated, but Carrie was looking beyond the surface. She took note of a plastic tub full of baby toys, a pacifier left abandoned on the couch…was this where Rick and Carl lived too?
Michonne just looked to Deanna. "Didn't you tell her?" she asked, getting mugs out of a cupboard.
"No," Deanna replied. "I thought she might enjoy the surprise. No coffee for me, thank you."
"Surprise?"
Smiling at her warmly, Deanna put down the bag she had been carrying for her. "We thought you'd settle in a little better if you were with people you know and trust."
Filled with sheer relief, she looked to Michonne as a heavy weight was lifted off her shoulders. "Everyone lives here?"
Michonne nodded, smiling at her. "We're spread out between this house, and the one next door."
"I do hope this is alright, Carrie?" Deanna asked, though judging by her expression she knew it was.
Unsure of exactly how to express her relief, Carrie kept it simple. "Yeah, it is…thank you."
"You're most welcome," she replied sincerely, looking to Michonne. "You'll help her settle in?"
"Of course. I'll take it from here."
"You know where to find me," Deanna said to Carrie, farewelling her as she began to leave. "I'll see you later."
"Bye," she said softly, still feeling like she was in a state of shock.
She watched Deanna leave and then turned back to Michonne, barely able to contain her smile. Seeing the look on her face, Michonne gave a hearty chuckle and then came over. "You okay?" she asked, a light tease in her voice. "You going to pass out?"
"I don't know," she laughed breathlessly, still trying to comprehend the relief. "Maybe."
"You must be relieved," Michonne suggested, taking Carrie by surprise and embracing her. "I know I am."
"You are?"
Michonne nodded, letting her go and then peering into the bags she had brought with her. "The thought of you being sent to live with people you didn't know…didn't sit well with any of us."
At the latter remark, Carrie couldn't help but wonder if that included Rick, if he had ever anticipated the idea that she might be living with him, with his children. "I'm relieved," she said honestly, the knowledge that she didn't have to make small talk and live with people who didn't understand her growing with each passing moment.
"How was your interview?"
"Good," she answered, beginning to look around at her newfound home. "Everything went fine, I…we talked. Deanna seems…welcoming."
"Did she give you a job?"
Carrie paused, casting her mind back to the conversation. "No, not really…sort of. I think she said she'd have me doing lots of things. Supply runs, helping out at the school, taking watch…that sort of thing."
"That alright with you?"
Honestly speaking, Carrie had no idea, having not been able to think about it all that much. "I guess so, yeah. I don't want to be-"
"Oh, God. Here they come," Michonne cut her off, hastily swooping down and picking up her bags. "Sorry, but, let's get your stuff upstairs. They mean well, but you should get settled before you have to deal with introductions."
Looking out the window, Carrie's stomach twisted as she saw people coming down the street towards the house. Following Michonne's lead, she grabbed her things and followed her towards the staircase and began ascending.
"That's the main bedroom," Michonne said as they reached the first floor. Keeping her voice low, she indicated to a set of double doors directly opposite the mouth of the staircase. "Rick, Carl and Judith have to share. Then on the right here is Carol's room, then mine, and Daryl's just claimed the attic. Everyone else live at the house beside us. This is your room up at the front."
Following her down the hallway, Carrie took note that while everything else was open, the double doors were closed. Given the way Michonne lowered her voice a little, she wondered if perhaps Judith was in there sleeping, simultaneously wondering where everyone else was. Following Michonne to the end of the hallway, Carrie slowly entered what would be her new bedroom, a space that was purely her own.
The bedroom was at the front of the house, overlooking a great deal of the community. Through the four windows Carrie could see the surroundings houses, the lake and the empty field across from them, but it was the walls she looked to first. From here she could see them, and though they weren't exactly appealing to the eye, they represented both her safety, and her confinement…she hadn't seen it like that until now. Feeling Michonne watching her, Carrie looked around the bedroom itself, finding that although it was sparsely decorated, it had the same welcoming qualities of the rest of the house. There was a double bed with a thick comforter and two nightstands either side, and in the corner was a tall built in wardrobe and laundry basket.
"You alright?" Michonne asked, sensitive to how out of place Carrie felt.
"Yeah," she said honestly.
Taking it all in, she ran her hand over the light yellow comforter, liking how soft the linen felt. She looked up as Michonne opened another door, revealing a small bathroom that was entirely Carrie's own. In a perpetual state of disbelief, she put her pack and bag of new clothing on the floor as she looked around, trying to comprehend it all. Observing the space that she would now call her own, she tried to feel excited about it, she tried to feel grateful…but all she felt was a growing sense of being overwhelmed. A few moments passed, and it was only the sound of voices from downstairs that roused her from her thoughts.
Michonne sighed. "I'd better hold them off before they try to come up here," she apologised. "Take your time, okay? You don't have to come down if you don't want to."
"Thanks," she said quietly, taking a deep breath as she looked back to Michonne. "Really, thank you."
Understanding, Michonne just nodded and slowly departed. "A word of advice for living here?" she began, reappearing in the doorway. "Don't be frightened if you find a pig eating out of our refrigerator, or scratching his balls on the couch. That's Eugene."
A burst of laughter escaped her lips, the humorous comment helping to lift her spirits. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks."
Winking at her, Michonne left her to it and headed back downstairs. Carrie listened to her bare feet on the wooden floor as she went, and following her lead, she removed her boots and socks. Though the laundry basket was clearly there for her to use, she laid her socks out across her boots, the idea of putting anything aside to be washed feeling preposterous. Feeling the soft carpet beneath her toes, she wandered about her new bedroom, trying to wrap her head around the notion that it was hers. Her mind was still reeling with relief, a weight having been lifted off her shoulders now that she knew who she was living with. It was kind of them to let her live there alongside them, to let her live with people that she already knew and trusted. The idea of having to live with complete strangers made her feel sick to the stomach with anxiety, but she had been determined to make the best of it either way. Now though, she knew she ought to be relaxing.
That was easier said than done though. Standing in the centre of her new bedroom, one that Daryl had given up for her to use, she still felt completely out of place, like this was all a joke and soon enough someone was going to give her a reality check. Surely someone was going to come in and tell her the truth, to laugh at the way in which she had believed everything about this place. Even though it was right here in front of her, none of it felt real quite yet.
Trying to orient herself, she sat down on the edge of the bed, wishing that the feeling of being at home was instantaneous. But like everything else good in this world, she was going to have to work for it. It wouldn't take long, she reassured herself. She knew these people…they were the exact same people she had been wishing had accompanied her to her interview with Deanna, Michonne in particular. And then there was Rick, although that left room for complications. They'd slept together a couple of times, they'd been fooling around and stealing kisses in dark corridors…furthermore, she knew the lengths he had gone to in order to save her that night in Franklin. Would things change now that they were living together?
Certainly some things would have to be different. They weren't on the supply run anymore, and so they'd be spending less time together. Between Rick's responsibilities of his children, his group, managing the walls and security and then the gardens, she expected that he would be very busy. On that note as well, Carrie anticipated much the same thing for her, if Deanna's assessment of her role in the community was any indication. Slumping down onto the bed, Carrie looked up at the ceiling as she talked herself through her thoughts, trying to organise them sufficiently. Now that they were home, things would be different with Rick. Despite essentially agreeing to a friends with benefits relationship, things could change, particularly now he was resuming normal life with two children who had lost their mother.
Realising that she was on the verge of talking herself out of what she and Rick had agreed on, Carrie forced herself to her feet to seek Michonne's company, to face the inevitable introductions. Leaving her new bedroom behind, she crept down the hallway as she glanced at the double doors that lead to the main bedroom. Not wanting to wake anyone who was sleeping, Carrie kept her footsteps light as she passed the doors, but she didn't make it far. She mentally braced herself at the top of the stairs, able to hear voices she didn't recognise.
She could hear people whispering, and she could tell they were talking about her. The moment she set foot on the first stair she heard their whispers escalate before quickly dying down, one person telling the other to shush. Mentally cringing, Carrie summoned her bravery and forced herself to go downstairs. With each step she felt dread building, but she knew that Michonne would be there too, that any visiting Alexandrians wouldn't get the chance to overwhelm her. As she reached the halfway landing and looked down towards the kitchen and living areas, she breathed a mental sigh of relief. There were only two people there, and while they were clearly waiting for her to come down, she found she didn't mind once she saw them. She thought she might recognise them, the others having described them to her.
"Hey," she greeted them, hiding her nerves behind a smile. "I'm Carrie."
"I'm Noah," the man greeted her, although on second glance he was younger than she first thought. "Nice to meet you." Smiling politely, he extended his hand and shook hers.
"Yeah, same here," the woman added, though she extending her fist instead of her hand. "Except, you know…I'm Tara, not Noah."
Chuckling under her breath, Carrie met Tara's fist with her own, already getting the feeling that she liked them. "I've heard a lot about you guys."
"Glenn and Rosita told us heaps about you too," Noah told her, beginning to head down the short hallway.
"They also told us to give you some space…to not pester you," Tara added. "So here we are."
Affirming that she liked them, Carrie just chuckled in amusement. Relieved that it appeared to be only Rick's group there to meet her, she followed Noah and Tara into the kitchen, pleasantly surprised to find that Glenn was there too, looking through the cupboards for something while Michonne fussed with the coffee machine. Feeling comfortable and at ease, she looked to her left and found that the refrigerator door was wide open, and from the sounds of the rummaging inside, she suspected she knew who it was.
"Let me guess. Eugene?"
The rummaging stopped, Tara and Noah laughing loudly as the refrigerator door closed to reveal the person behind. The stocky man whose shorts were too long and socks too high looked at her, his eyes narrowed in scrutiny.
"Hello," he said in a deadpan voice, his eyes clearly gauging her.
"Hello," she smiled in amusement, admiring his hair…Eugene was exactly as they had described to her. Going about all the polite necessities, she extended her hand to shake his, but took it back with yet more amusement. Eugene's arms were presently occupied holding onto a jar of pickles, ketchup, a bowl of boiled potatoes and a tupperware dish of left overs.
"Never mind Eugene, he has no manners," Tara scolded him, raising an eyebrow at him.
"I've extended the minimum necessities of polite interaction," he said defensively, heading around to the other side of the island bench. "That will be the extent of niceties until I make my assessment of the effect of her presence in social circle."
"Thank you," Carrie said, accepting the cup of coffee Michonne passed to her.
At Michonne's encouragement she took a seat at the island bench, Tara and Noah strategically having left the stool between them free. Despite feeling like an animal in the zoo, Carrie was comfortable in their company, knowing that they were a part of Rick's group, and that despite the gawking, they weren't so different to her.
"Mich? Where's mine?" Tara asked, gesturing to Carrie's coffee.
Michonne's shoulders slumped in exasperation, and she hung her head low. "Seriously? I just got back from a three week supply run, and you want me to make you a cup of coffee?"
"I'm just saying, you have the pot in your hand. All you have to do is get a mug and pour."
Grumbling to herself, Michonne opened the cupboard and wearily retrieved a mug for Tara and Noah. "You see how they treat me?" she asked Carrie, pouring the coffee.
"It's disgusting," she agreed.
"Tara's just jealous that I have a room to myself," Michonne teased, putting the coffee pot back in the cradle.
Tara just shrugged. "It's not so bad," she admitted, sipping her coffee. "Sasha's easy to share with. How did you manage to get your own room?"
"I sweet talked Carol. And besides, none of you were willing to live with Judith."
"I'm willing," Noah said darkly. "No offence, Eugene."
"I have a digestion disorder," Eugene replied defensively, opening the jar of pickles.
"Then lay off the dairy!" Tara and Noah groaned in unison.
"Shush!" Michonne said hastily, waving her hand. "Rick and Judith are sleeping."
Rick's sudden arrival disputed this. "No, I'm not."
Feeling the breath leave her body, Carrie had to forcibly hold back her smile, feeling her heart swelling upon seeing him again. She wasn't infatuated with him by any means, but it was still a relief to see him…the last hour or so felt completely strange without her new group surrounding her, and even though she knew they were only nearby, she had felt on edge until she saw them again. It had been the same relief upon seeing Michonne and then Glenn. Looking at Rick now, she watched as he went straight for the pot of coffee, pouring himself the last little bit and drinking it straight away.
As the others talked and Rick put on some more coffee to brew, Carrie nodded and smiled in all the right places, once again feeling like her emotions were like a yo-yo. She felt all over the place, her brain confused between the need to stay alert and vigilant and the instinct to start assimilating to everyone else's relaxed behaviour. It was a strange state of being, one she wasn't quite sure of how to approach, and so she simply winged it. Drinking her coffee, which was as good as Michonne had promised, she made small talk as she got to know Noah, Tara and Eugene a little more, trying not to look at Rick too much.
Carl arrived home a few moments later, smiling cheerfully and saying hello to everyone again. As their attention was momentarily diverted, Carrie glanced up at Rick again, surprised to find that he had been looking at her. She felt nervous for a moment, watching as he gratefully drank his freshly brewed coffee. Half of his hair was mussed up, and the pillow marks on one of his cheeks indicated that he had recently tried to get some sleep. It was no wonder he had tried…judging by the dark marks under his eyes and the long days of travel with little sleep, he was probably one of the most exhausted from their trip.
"Are they looking after you?" he enquired softly, indicating the Michonne and the others.
Carrie nodded. "Of course," she answered, giving a tentative smile. She wished she could tell what he was thinking, but for the first time he was difficult to read.
Rick went to say something else, but when Carl interrupted he apologetically diverted his attention.
"I'm going to Ron's house."
"Are you?" Rick countered, raising his eyebrows.
Sighing, Carl stopped where he was, balancing on his crutches before looking back into the kitchen. "Dad, can I please go to Ron's house?"
"Have you been to the armoury yet?"
"I just got back from there, and before you say it, Olivia told me I can keep my knife."
"You handed in everything else? There's nothing left in your pack?"
"No."
Though he was satisfied, Rick paused before giving permission, drawing it out for a moment. "Be home by sundown."
Thinking him, Carl stopped only long enough to carefully put his comic books into a satchel that hung by the front door, unable to carry them while still on his crutches. There was a short pause in everyone's conversation, a pause in which Carrie glanced up at Rick again, amused by the way he interacted with Carl. At the same time though, it felt strange that Carl was leaving, that he was simply walking out the front door without a gun or without anyone to accompany him…perhaps Rick felt strange about that too, Carrie able to detect a little discomfort in his eyes as he watched Carl getting ready. Catching his eye, Carrie gave him a small smile.
"Dammit, Glenn!" Tara suddenly exclaimed, slamming her hand on the bench top. "What the hell is this?" she asked, wildly gesturing to Carrie.
Having finally found what he wanted from the cupboards, Glenn looked up at her in surprise, frowning. "What?"
"I told you to bring me back a lesbian," Tara said in frustration. "Three weeks out there, and you couldn't get me the one thing I asked for?"
The kitchen burst into laughter, Tara's exclamation telling Carrie a little more about her than polite small talk did. A little embarrassed, for she suspected Tara had seen her looking at Rick, Carrie hid her laughter by taking a long sip of her coffee.
"Well," Glenn began apologetically. "She could be a lesbian…have you even asked her?"
"No, she likes the sausage," Tara whined, eliciting another laugh from Carrie. "I can tell."
As everyone else laughed, Carl frowned, not understanding. "How do you know she likes sausages? You've never seen her eat a sausage."
Carl's innocence only made them laugh more, Noah practically doubled over while Rick simply shook his head in exasperation. "Go to Ron's house," he told Carl.
"No, wait," he protested, beginning to catch on. "Was Tara being dirty?"
"Yes, now go."
"Tell me what she meant," he requested. "Oh, come on!"
"I'll tell you later," Tara hissed at him. "Be cool, alright? Be cool."
Unsure of whether he could trust her or not, Carl did as he was told and left, his eyes still narrowed in confusion as he tried to figure out what was said. As the laughter died down, Rick drank the rest of his coffee and then wearily rubbed his eyes.
"I'm heading out," he told Michonne. "If I'm not back by three o'clock, could you wake Judith for me?"
"Sure. Carrie and I will go to the armoury soon. Do you want us to hand over everything?"
Judging by the way Michonne lowered her voice, the latter sentence was clearly not meant for Carrie's ears, and so she looked back to Noah and Eugene instead. Mentally keeping track, she figured she had only Carol, Sasha and Gabriel left to meet, though she didn't get the impression that Gabriel was really a part of their group anymore.
"See you later," Rick said, catching her eye as he began to leave, Glenn hastening to follow him out.
"See you," she said softly.
Seconds later he was gone, and Carrie resisted the urge to turn around and watch him leave. Beside her, she felt Tara nudging her, and she felt herself blushing when she received a knowing look. It was the same look Rosita and Michonne gave her their first night in the prison, when they'd been gossiping about Rick just as Carrie's attraction to him had started developing.
"There's no shame in checking him out. I was too," she whispered, laughing when Carrie raised an eyebrow at her. "I can still appreciate a good view. Speaking of a good view, where's Daryl?" she asked everyone. "It's been three weeks since I've seen those guns. What that guy does for a leather vest…"
The kitchen burst into laughter again, Glenn shaking his head and apologising to Carrie. Smiling and laughing, she was just relieved to find that it actually felt genuine…in a very short time she had settled in and grown comfortable with the rest of Rick's group, and already it felt like she'd been with them longer than five minutes. A part of her had expected this, knowing that for people like her, people who had been on the outside and had struggled for survival, it was easier to let your guard down a little, to feel comfortable. In no time at all, twenty minutes passed, the group laughing and enjoying one another's company as they got to know Carrie, while also catching up with Michonne and Glenn.
"Tara, would you watch Judith for me?" Michonne requested as Glenn, Noah and Eugene started to head off for the second house. "Carrie and I should get to the armoury, Olivia is probably waiting for us."
"Sure," Tara agreed, although she looked a little reluctant.
"Carol shouldn't be far," she added before turning to Carrie. "Why don't you go and get your weapons. Everything except your knife, you can keep that."
Though she had anticipated handing in her weapons, Carrie found that she was suddenly all that more attached to her guns, despite still not being one hundred percent confident with them. She supposed it had something to do with the way she still felt like she was on alert, to the difficulty in rationalising the idea that she could start letting her guard down a little. The mental reminders she kept giving herself were not enough, and she knew it would only be time that allowed her to start adjusting.
A few minutes later she and Michonne left, carrying the guns they were about to turn in, Carrie with her machete too. Looking at Michonne as they headed down the front steps, she couldn't help but think about how strange she looked without her katana over her shoulder…it was now safely hung up above the mantle in the living room, no longer needed, but not to be relinquished to the armoury. Back out in the sunshine, and this time without the prospect of sharing a house with strangers, Carrie enjoyed the way it beat down on her face and shoulders. Now that the nervousness of meeting her housemates had dissipated, she looked at the small community in a different light, able to enjoy it a little bit more.
"Carrie," Michonne stopped her, indicating to their right. "This is Carol."
Looking around, Carrie held her breath for a moment, seeing the women in the floral sweater Carl had pointed out earlier. Upon their arrival in Alexandria, Carl had hung back a little and given her some last minute advice, suggesting that Carrie learn from Carol, that she made sure people underestimated her. Looking at Carol now, taking in her prim and proper clothes and perfectly coiffed hair, Carrie immediately smelled bull shit. She hadn't spoken two words to the woman, but already she knew Carol was playing a game with the Alexandrian's…and she was playing it well.
"Hi," Carol called out cheerfully.
Carrying a laundry basket under one arm and a heavy bag in the other, she strolled up the pavement towards them, coming from the direction of where they had left the five vehicles parked. Smiling politely, and reminding herself to breathe, Carrie glanced down at the military truck…Rick was already inspecting the greenhouses, but he took pause to watch Carol's approach, as though a part of him was waiting for a spectacle. He gave Carrie a reassuring nod before turning back to the tray of seedlings he was tending to, but Carrie could tell he was still watching them from the corner of his eye.
"Hi Carrie," Carol smiled at her pleasantly as she reached her. "I'm Carol, it's so nice to meet you."
"Hi," she replied, looking forward to the day when she didn't have to exchange so many pleasantries in one day. She made to extend her hand but stopped awkwardly. Carol was already laden up with a laundry basket and heavy bag, and Carrie's hands were full with her two guns and machete, and so she settled for a polite nod. "It's nice to meet you too."
Though she was nothing other than polite, Carrie could feel Carol's eyes scrutinising her, judging what she thought of her first impression. "Rick's told me lots about you," Carol told her.
"Oh, only good things, I hope."
"Many things."
Carol's tone was pleasant, but despite this, Carrie was a little unnerved, feeling as though she was taking an examination no one had warned her about. Carol was playing a game with the Alexandrian's, that much was for sure, but it seemed she was playing it with Carrie too.
"Carol," Michonne began, sensing Carrie's discomfort. "I've left Judith with Tara…"
"Say no more," Carol nodded, understanding. "I've got ironing to do for Natalie. Is she still sleeping?"
"Yes. If he's not back, Rick asked to wake her at three o'clock."
"No problem. Carrie? It's nice to meet you, I look forward to getting to know you."
"Yeah, you too," she replied, doing her best to hide how unnerved she felt. "Thanks, Carol."
With another pleasant smile Carol departed for home, readjusting the laundry basket on her hip. Despite the fact that Carol had been with Rick from the very start, Carrie was kind of glad that she was gone…from the looks of it, Carol wasn't as accepting of her as the others were.
"So, what's with her?" she asked Michonne bluntly, needing an answer of some kind.
"What do you mean?" she enquired, despite knowing exactly what she meant.
"I mean she's been with Rick's group from the very start…what's with the sweater?"
"You don't like her sweater?"
"I'm more interested in what's behind it," she said cautiously, hoping she didn't press too hard. The Grimes group were more than simply a group. They were family…they were loyal. Despite their friendship, Michonne probably wouldn't appreciate her outright mistrust of Carol.
Michonne sighed, giving Carrie the answers she needed. "What's behind the sweater is the same as you and me, except it's hidden a little more."
"So, she's what, a wolf in sheep's clothing?"
"That implies she has malicious intent," Michonne remarked. "But I understand the metaphor, so yes."
"She's playing it smart?" Carrie clarified, the two of them turning down the street with the townhouses. "She's making sure they underestimate her?"
"Exactly."
Carrie paused, wondering how much she should say. "Earlier, Carl told me to watch her…to learn from her."
"To learn from her?"
"Yeah. He said, make sure the people underestimate me."
Michonne smiled slowly, apparently unsurprised. "He's a smart kid…smarter then most people give him credit for."
Not responding to this, despite her agreement, Carrie felt worry growing in the pit of her stomach. It was clear that Rick's nod of approval was not enough for Carol's satisfaction. She didn't trust Carrie, and so in turn, Carrie wondered if she could trust Carol.
"You can trust Carol," Michonne assured her, as if she could read Carrie's mind.
Nodding, Carrie sought to clarify her worries. "Will she trust me?"
"I won't lie…you're going to have to earn it."
Carrie sighed. "I thought as much. Any advice on how to do that?"
Pausing outside the entrance to the pantry, Michonne seemed to hesitate, clearly mulling over her answer, trying to come up with something. "We all mistrusted you at the beginning…for Carol, this is the beginning."
"But what do I do to earn that trust? With you guys, all I had to do was not murder you in your sleep."
Michonne chuckled at this remark, tilting her head back and enjoying the sun on her face. Shaking her head, she looked at Carrie again. "No, you also had to prove yourself…which you did."
"Why do I get the feeling it's not going to be that easy to prove myself to Carol?"
"Because proving yourself is only the start," Michonne answered, looking at her seriously. "For Carol, you'll have to prove whose side you're on."
"Whose side?" she asked in worry. In the back of her mind lingered a conversation she'd had with Rick some time ago, one in which he had mentioned a clear division in Alexandria.
Nodding, Michonne answered. "To Carol at least, there's us…and there's them. Make sure you pick your side."
