(Hey guys! I'm sorry for how long this took me to get around to! Thank you for all your lovely encouragement, reviews and general niceness. I've got to throw out a WARNING FOR SPOILERS because my Governor in this fic is based on the Graphic Novel version, not the TV one. That said, if you want no spoilers just jump to the next chapter, it won't take too much away. ALSO I'll give this an M (THAT'S AN M, PLEASE DON'T FEEL OBLIGED TO READ IF YOU DON'T WANT TO) rating to be on the safe side, some SOMEWHAT adult themes here, I'll be back to my more fuzzy writing next chapter, just wanted something a little different. Enjoy this next chapter!)
Chapter Three; The Price of Love
I do believe it's true
That there are holes left in both of our shoes
If the silence takes you
Then I hope it takes me too
So brown eyes I hold you near
Cause you're the only song I want to hear
A melody softly soaring through my atmosphere
It was as pretty as a portrait and equally as fictitious. But it was there, a strange memory conjured from fantasy, and it was what kept her strong. There she stood, the picturesque, young fresh-faced woman as untroubled and joyful as a whistle of wind. Long strands of sleek blonde hair cascaded wildly down her shoulders, between her shoulder blades and trailed almost all the way to her round hips which were clad tightly in dark blue denim. The eyes that glinted from between a pair of flittering, shockingly long blonde lashes were as feral and enchanting as those of a wild cat, slanted at an alluring angle and heavily lidded, giving her the extraordinarily fascinating impression of her eyes being too heavy each time she blinked. Her figure was simple, a small chest which curved inwards and nipped at her tiny waist then flared out at her womanly hips. Her upper half was captured in a sheer floral shirt decorated with flowers in each colour imaginable and a short, bright blue denim jacket and matching blue heels. The smile on her face was blindingly radiant, two sets of bright white teeth set between thin but pert lips.
The night was hot, it was the middle of July and the first chills of autumn had still not arrived. She never had any time to do her own thing; to explore and enjoy herself, but she was soon to be married and she was eager to see Georgia before she was bound to a man she didn't love for an unspeakable amount of time. The train windows were all fully down and despite the late hour the faint glitter of sunset danced on the horizon and bleared through the glass, leaving hot red patches on her fair skin.
She stepped cautiously when she arrived. Everything seemed to have a faint fog about it. The windows of shops were obscured, blurred slightly, the coloured lights within as hazy and indistinct in their illumination as if the interior had caught fire. Street lights above twinkled and faded indiscriminately as she looked at them through foggy eyes, her brows furrowed in confusion. It wasn't quite a dream and it wasn't quite a memory. A waking dream perhaps? Often she wondered if this was what Walkers thought of, how they fantasised, what kept them ploughing on in a state of semi-life forever. Her thoughts shattered as she saw him, not far away, watching her.
Short, fluffy brown hair stuck up at awkward angles on his head, giving him a cute untamed shabbiness about him. Two sweet eyes full of tenderness and yearning to be loved fixed themselves on her and she couldn't help staring back into them, her own brilliant blues full of a need to grab him, hold on to him, show him the compassion he had never known before. The deep scars of a loveless, abusive childhood were gone from his dark skin, instead he was fresh faced and cheerful. She adored him and the awkward, virgin way she could see he battled with his feelings as he watched her and his head churned with thoughts of passion. He couldn't have been more than twenty, but he still stood there firmly, like he was cast in stone. His eyes ate into her flesh hungrily, she knew her younger self had a power to draw an eye and charm a man without a single word.
It was a simple desire. To have met him before the world went to hell. She looked back on the thought so often because she knew it would have changed her life. Daryl would never have forced her to hide under desks as his fists searched for her skin, he had come close to hitting her once and it had thrown him into a state of complete shock and shame. He would never have forced her to shave her hair off or bear him an heir. He definitely wouldn't have looked at any child of theirs the way Ed did, that sickening smile he put on whenever she called him 'daddy' and the way he used to grab out at her tiny, pale arms so hard it would plant bruises in her skin made Carol's blood boil. She used to jump between them, earning her a beating but always managing to rescue Sophia. She was sure her husband would have killed her eventually but it didn't matter.
And then there was Daryl, the man who hunted for Sophia like a bloodhound when she was lost, as though her survival was the most crucial thing in the world. Carol watched him then, yearning for her daughter to live so they could have a life with him. Sure, he could never have provided her with a house and a car and a stable life but they could've lived off the land and built themselves a little wood hut deep within a forest somewhere, concealed from a world full of death. Perhaps they could've started a new family, had a baby of their own, a dog. For most it was a horror, but for Carol the zombie apocalypse had brought a happy ending. Sophia was gone, laid to rest, finally at peace. She had been given the opportunity to cave her husband's head in, she chuckled at the thought, she shouldn't have relished it as much as she did. And she had met him, wonderful sweet Daryl, love of her life.
Her thoughts had kept her calm as she blanked out what happened around her. She didn't hear him speak in that deep, threatening rumbling voice and she never felt his hands trailing across her body indiscreetly, she was so caught in her illusions. She never noticed him beginning to unbutton his shirt either, watching her calmly, his eyes wandering across her body. Still she remained strong and silent, retaining that thought of Daryl as though she was meditating, remembering what she fought for until finally she caught herself slipping out of her fantasies. She was finally forced to pay attention.
"You know, you will crack eventually. I'll see to it." His name had been disclosed as the Governor. That's what the other men called him anyway. He was cruel, abusive, yet still adored by his men. As long as they didn't know what he was up to. The man in a tight white lab coat was Stevens who assessed her after each 'session' with her captors to keep her alive, his face a mixed picture of pity and disgust, and the other, of course, was Merle. The only thing Carol knew for certain from passing conversation was that somewhere they had Andrea, perhaps as a captive she was unsure, and they were safe enough that they could continue their interrogation of her without fear. She jerked with a start when the Governor began to talk, but was unable to answer him. Her mouth, hands and feet were bound tightly.
He had tried several ways of making her talk, notifying them of the location of Rick's group. First he was rational, trying to twist her mind so she caved in. Then he was sweet, calm and gentle. Then, in frustration, he had gotten Merle to try beating it out of her. Do your worst, she had told him. Now they were deciding what to do with her. She was unsure what it was to be. But regardless she could grit her teeth and take it. Nothing on Earth would make her reveal Daryl's location, not after she had witnessed their brutal way of dealing with people. She just knew if he found out what they had done to her, he would rampage like a tornado over Woodbury, and with the power of a thousand men nothing in his path would stay in one piece. The older Dixon brother, the Governor, everyone in this sick little town would be torn apart and spat out. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. If she died defending him it would be a perfect death.
She felt the tape bind over her mouth being slowly pulled away. It hurt as he slowly ripped it off, causing her lips to tingle painfully. He was on the same level as her, knelt beside her chair, his hands warm on her cheeks. He looked straight into her face, his manic flickering eyes caught in her own. He leaned closer once the gag was gone, his eyes straining closed, his lips puckered for a kiss. She watched him draw closer, his breath hot on her face, his mouth drawing closer to hers…
The head-butt sent him reeling backwards and dropped him to the floor. She moaned in pain afterwards, but watching him spiralling to the ground made her laugh.
"What, did you think you were getting a little kiss?" She muttered, her voice jovial. "You know something, I will die to keep the group's location a secret. They could be miles away and you'll never know. You'll have to carve Daryl's name in my carcass and toss me to the Walkers before you get your hands on him." She began to laugh violently. It surprised her when she heard him laughing from the floor alongside her, and she immediately shut her up. He drew himself to his feet and looked down at her, eyes fixed on hers.
"You want to play games? I like that in a woman." His eyes were dark, nasty. He had been testing the waters. He turned and walked slowly towards a desk nearby where Carol could just about make out a number of rather nasty looking objects, undoubtedly intended for a particularly personal type of torture. "Fine. You and I are going to play a little game." He purred, causing his captive's stomach to churn. She knew what was coming. Her breath became staggered, frightened. Her eyes filled with tears. He pounced.
It wasn't until afterwards as she spat a mixture of blood and vomit from her mouth and wept violently, streaks of tears trailing down her cheeks, that she even knew what it was she was frightened of. She was afraid of all the things Daryl would do to The Governor, to Merle, to everyone when he found her and found out about what happened. She closed her eyes tight. If he found her.
