It didn't matter how hard she scrubbed, how much soap she used, she didn't feel clean. She found herself thanking some invisible force that Daryl had come at the time he had. She was sure that Merle wouldn't have hesitated forcing himself upon her if that was what he had wanted. She looked down at her chest, which was now red as a result of her frantic scrubbing. She stood up and reached for the towel that she had claimed as her own and she wiped off.
Merle hadn't bothered checking in at Nightingale yet but everyone was ordered to be armed at all times, ready to shoot them down if they did decide to invade the town. Hannah had even brought the rifle with her into the bathroom, worried that he would show up while she was in the middle of cleaning up. She picked up the necklace that she had been wearing around her neck, studying it. She placed it back on the counter, besides the sink. To hell if she was going to wear it if others thought that it had been a gift from Daryl.
"Mama!"
The sound of Pablo's voice filled her heart with joy every time she heard it. He had been the first person she had seen when she entered Nightingale, which was a huge relief. The poor boy had been scared to death when he had seen her face, worried to death that she was seriously hurt. She tried to play it off as an accident with bad men, not wanting to scare him more than necessary. But she had given him a gun as soon as they entered the house.
"I'm coming," she announced as she finished putting on a tank top. She looked at herself in the mirror, realizing that some of the redness was visible. She pulled up the tank top so that it covered the irritated area before picking her rifle up and exiting the bathroom. She walked around the house, trying to find where Pablo was. It wasn't until she entered the main hall that she saw him standing with Henry by the front door.
"What's going on?" she asked, reaching for a stripper clip that was sitting on top of an end table. She had strategically placed them all over the house so that if she needed to, she could zoom right out and snag plenty of ammo while she was at it.
Henry knew that there was something that she wasn't telling them. If she had just been locked up and beaten, she would have said so plain and simply. Instead she said something about having an accident with one of the bad guys' fist. Given, she had been talking to the boy but even that was ridiculous. On top that all, she had come back with Daryl and stormed right into the house without so much as a word to the man. Henry wasn't exactly fond of the redneck but he had grown to appreciate the way Hannah looked at him. It was rather similar to the way she would look at Pablo, like she felt that he belonged to her.
Perhaps that's why he couldn't bring himself to tell her that Daryl was waiting for her in the room. He didn't want to see how she was going to look at him now. She had spent the past two days either in the bathroom 'rubbing off the dirt' as she claimed or in her room, reading the fairytale book she had found for Pablo. Whatever had happened with Daryl's brother had a deep impact on her, causing her to pull herself into a shell. Henry hoped that whatever it was, Daryl could help her. She sure as hell wasn't going to tell Henry what had gone down. She might respect him but he knew that there wasn't a chance that he would hear even a part of it.
"I'm going to go play with Carl and Henry's going to walk me over," Pablo said, taking the lead that Henry hadn't been able to. "We just wanted you to know," he said, running over to Hannah and wrapping his arms around her waist. Hannah's mouth twisted into a melancholic smile as she bent down so that she could hug the boy properly, rifle still in her hand.
"Got your gun?" she questioned as she let the boy go, only to have him reveal it in a holster that had been fashioned for him. It had been ages ago since Hannah made it; she had wanted him to have something just in case he ever needed to carry a gun. "Stay safe, okay?" she pleaded, looking the boy in the eyes. He nodded before planting a kiss on the side of Hannah's face that was still intact. She watched as he ran back to Henry and the two headed out, Henry giving her a slight wave, the look in his eyes promising that he would watch the boy. It took Hannah a moment to collect her feelings and stop worrying about Pablo. She was convinced that Daryl's brother would stop at nothing to ruin them which translated to one thing: he would be willing to kill Pablo if he felt that it was to their advantage.
She went to her bedroom, ready to retreat into H.C. Andersen's fairytales. They were so real, even if they were fairytales. There weren't always happy endings, at least not the way you'd expect them. So far her favorite was the one about the Little Mermaid. She had been reluctant to read the story at first, being familiar with the story from Disney's point of view. But she had fallen in love with the fairytale and its bittersweet end.
She had been so absorbed in her excitement to read Andersen's fairytales that she didn't notice the man sitting on her bed right away. When she did, she seemed to jump slightly, surprised to see him. She had been purposely avoiding him in an effort to make the memory of his brother and yelling at him to go away. She was ready to turn around and leave the room when he stood up, which put her to an immediate halt.
"Yer all red," Daryl said, placing his hand on his chest to let her know what area he was referring to. He wasn't going to reach out and try to touch her after the way she had flinched last time he had tried to touch her. Her eyes wandered around the room, landing on everything in it other than him. "I'm sorry Hannah. Shoulda come for ya right away," he said, pulling the words from out of his memory. He had been thinking about the words over and over again, trying to find the right way to tell her how sorry he was.
"I was gonna go straight and get ya out of there. But Merle, he said-"
Hannah's eyes shot up and looked straight at Daryl, resulting in him stopping mid-sentence. "Said what?" she asked, wondering what the hell Merle could have said to get Daryl to stand there and talk for another half hour. If there circumstances had been any different she would have understood, family reunions and all. But she had been kidnapped by his brother who then made her write a note threatening the community that they had established. He needed a damn good reason for stopping to chat.
"Things, 'bout what you two did," Daryl finished, looking at Hannah and waiting for her reaction. He watched as she looked like she was about to blow up and a moment later her expression changed into something melancholic. His eyes followed her as she seated herself down on the bed and he took a seat next to her, all too familiar with the expression on her face. It was the kind of look she would wear when she had a new bruise to show off. Not that she ever said anything about it and he had never asked but he had always known that it had been her father.
"You believed him, didn't you?"
Her voice was a whisper and her words barely audible but he knew what she was asking. He wanted to tell her that he never believed Merle; that he had known better. But the way he had felt about her, how he had been afraid that she wouldn't ever touch him because of who he was had been used against her. Merle had shut him up by making him think that she had gone for Merle after a few hours together while she had never gone for him after a whole year spent together. He felt stupid, letting shit like feelings getting in the way of thinking clearly.
"Yea," he admitted sheepishly. "Shoulda known better but…" But what? He lacked so much confidence that he had jumped to the conclusion that she would have gone for someone like Merle? He glanced her way to see that she was upset by the fact that he had believed that she would do something with Merle. "He had yer panties," he said, finally setting on the most reasonable explanation. "Didn't figure until later that he coulda forced ya…"
"How could you think I would just throw myself at him?"
Her voice had a little more life in it now. She could tell that he didn't feel good about being wrong, but she had to know how he had made the mistake of assuming that she would have done something with Merle. It wasn't like he ever saw her throwing herself at any other guy. Before the apocalypse, he was the only one outside of her family that she had real, daily contact with.
"Don't know," Daryl said, his head hanging in shame. "I always thought ya'd only go for a nice guy 'n stuff," he muttered under his breath. "Guess Merle jus' knew how t'push my buttons."
There was a rather uncomfortable silence that took over. Under normal circumstances, Daryl would have welcomed the silence. But since he was trying to make things right with Hannah he couldn't stand the silence. "What did he do to ya?" It was a question that had been on his mind since she flinched as he had reached out for her. Even asking the question angered him. He felt that he wasn't supposed to have to ask a question like that, that it should never have to come up and the fact that it had meant that he had failed her.
"Nothing worth talking about," she protested, looking away.
"Ain't nothin' not worth talkin' 'bout, Hannah." He had allowed her to get away with telling him about her father all the time but he wasn't going to let her keep it a secret what Merle had done with her. He needed to know how bad Merle had messed up this time.
"He just hit me," Hannah said, not wanting to speak of the kiss that had been forced upon her and the way his hand had slithered into her pants just moments before Merle had been called to meet Daryl. "It's nothing, really," she said in hopes of convincing him to drop the subject.
"'S that right?" Daryl asked, raising his voice slightly. "Ya tellin' me that Merle didn't touch ya?" he asked, obviously suspecting that she was lying. She turned so that she was looking straight into his eyes.
"He didn't get that far, Daryl. You arrived before he was able to… touch me," she confessed. His hand on her breast hadn't been as big a deal as his hand traveling towards her treasures, as he had called them. The things that he had said to her began to resound in her head, especially the things about Daryl. How he had suggested that she must have been giving something in order for Daryl to stay by her side, how he had been surprised when she revealed that she was a virgin.
Daryl was sorry that there had ever been a possibility that Merle would touch her. He had tried so hard to keep her away from Merle before the Walkers in fear that Merle would scare her off with the way he talked and acted. He had never worried about the fact that Merle would ever do anything to her because Merle was his brother and he had believed him to at least be a good enough man to leave someone like Hannah alone. Maybe he had been wrong about his brother or maybe being left on the rooftop had changed Merle.
"I'm sor-"
Daryl didn't get to say anything more before Hannah stopped him. "Stop apologizing damn it," she commanded. "It's not your fault, okay? I know I might have acted like it was, but you ain't got anything to apologize for."
"It is my fault," Daryl protested. "I wasn't there to stop 'im from takin' ya." Not that he was going to admit it to her, but he would routinely check on her if she was doing night watches, sometimes spending hours watching her, making sure that nothing went wrong. It was a stupid thing he did to calm his nerves since he was always sure that something would happen. He had checked on her the night Merle had taken her but not at the right times.
"Daryl, you're not responsible for me," she said. "I don't need you to take care of me at all times."
He wanted to though, he wanted to take care of her and make sure that she was safe. It was something that he had never been able to do before, take care of her. He watched as she came to him, day after day, with bruises that he would never ask about. When the apocalypse had struck he had failed to bring her with him to Atlanta. Now, when he thought he had a chance to do right by her and make up for all his past mistakes he had gotten her kidnapped and he failed to think of her first like a good man would have.
Their conversation was cut short as a gunshot sounded. Hannah was first on her feet, her rifle still in her hands. She didn't wait for Daryl to stand up too; instead she rushed out of the bedroom, Daryl only a few steps behind her. The thought of Merle returning had her bones shaking, figuratively. She burst out of the house, her rifle ready to shoot, only to discover the body of a Walker in the middle of the town. She looked around, trying to find the person who had shot it.
She smiled when she saw the familiar face that belonged to T-Dog, who was holding a gun. She nodded to him as if she were telling him that he had done a good job. She immediately lowered her rifle and Daryl followed her example, lowering his crossbow.
"It's been two days. Why the hell haven't they attacked yet," she muttered, using the sling that was attached to the rifle so that it was carelessly resting on her back. She walked towards the Walker and began examining it carefully, checking for things like jewelry. She made a mental note to herself that she had to remember to pick off the wedding ring off of the Walker.
"Might be tryin' to scare us off," Daryl said, answering her question. He had to admit that he was worried about the fact that they hadn't attacked yet. He had expected them to do it the same day that him and Hannah had come back to town, retaliate as soon as possible. A day had been the most he had expected to wait.
"Mind bringing the wheelbarrow?" Hannah asked, nodding in the direction of her house. As soon as Daryl turned his back to her she picked off the wedding ring, knowing that she wouldn't remember to do so later, when she didn't have someone in her company. She slipped the ring into her pocket before standing up straight. She offered Daryl a grateful smile as he approached with the wheelbarrow. As soon as he stopped she picked up the Walker under the arms and she heaved it towards the wheelbarrow, throwing into the barrow in a sloppy manner.
"They smell like shit," she said, her face contorting at the smell of Walker. It had been a while since she had last gotten up close and personal with a Walker, mainly because the walls were mostly complete and there was no need to be adding on to them.
Daryl allowed the corner of his mouth to rise in amusement at her pointing out the obvious. He agreed wholeheartedly, never understanding how she had managed to build up the walls on her own. The smell was enough to drive him crazy just by being close to him. The only time he had bothered to suck it up was when they had been looking for Sophia and he had cut up that damn Walker.
"I'll do it," he offered when she tried to grab the handles of the wheelbarrow. The smell was horrible, but being able to help her out was more important than being able to have a more comfortable smell present in his nose.
Pablo looked up at the old man, a bright smile resting on his lips. "I can't wait to show mama what Carl gave me," he said, holding up a small car model. The boys were getting along well despite the four year age difference. The time that they didn't spend together was used for various necessary activities. Carl had expressed his envy for the fact that Pablo was going to learn to hunt from Daryl. He had praised Daryl, saying that he was definitely the best hunter in the group.
Pablo was literally shaking with excitement as they began the short walk to their home. Not only did he look forward to showing his mama the car that Carl had given him, he also looked forward to seeing her and Daryl talking again. He hadn't seen how their meeting had turned out but he firmly believed that things would be okay between them. He had even tried to explain to Henry why they would never be angry at each other for long, how people who were friends like they were could never stay sour forever.
He wasn't going to tell anyone, but he had faith in their reconciliation because they reminded him of his mama and papa. It wasn't exactly the way they were but the way they acted around each other and the way they looked at each other that made him think of his late parents. That was why he had begun to feel like things were becoming normal again.
When they turned on to the street that they lived on, they were greeted with the sight of Daryl and Hannah sitting on the porch, neither of them talking but the two of them looking like everything had been resolved. Happy with this turn of events, Pablo began to run towards them.
"Mama! Look!" he said as he approached them, suddenly coming to a halt when he reached the steps. He handed the redhead the car model that Carl had given him and he watched as she examined it, reading the bottom to find out what model it was. "Carl gave it to me."
"1950 Chevy Belair, that is awesome," she commented, impressed that Carl had given Pablo a car model that was actually nice looking. She caught a side glance from Daryl that seemed to say what you know 'bout cars? She refrained from telling him off. It was a justifiable glance though; she honestly didn't know anything else about cars other than the famous types like impalas and belairs. She even had a hard time telling what kind of car she was looking at, usually going with ford.
"Henry didn't believe me when I said I knew that you guys couldn't be mad for long," Pablo said, freely revealing that he and Henry had been discussing their relationship. He smiled when he saw the amused expression on Hannah's face and he could have sworn that he saw Daryl smile slightly.
Hannah looked past Pablo to see Henry wobbling down the road. She couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't told her about the fact that Daryl was waiting for in her room. There was no way that he hadn't known that Daryl was there, even if Pablo had been the one to let him in, the boy couldn't keep a secret to save his life.
"Take your time coming over here, why don't ya!" she shouted with a smile on her lips.
Henry was happy to see that Pablo had been right about the two of them. They didn't look like they were fighting at all anymore. He had always been the person who held a grudge so he always assumed that people were the same. If anyone ever made him mad at them, they could expect to have to work for his friendship once more but it seemed that Hannah was bigger than that. Either that or he was just someone she couldn't stay mad at.
"Hold your horses, young wo-"
Henry didn't get to finish his sentence. The shot didn't register in anyone's minds until the old man toppled over, landing on his side and rolling on to his back. Instantly the sense of wellbeing, of temporary safety was yanked from under their feet.
"Henry!" Hannah shouted, standing up and getting ready to dart in the direction of the old man's body. She was stopped by a pair of strong arms grabbing her, stopping her from going any further. "Let me go Daryl! I have to go help him!" she shouted, trying to break free from the grip that held her tight. The little boy, who stood next to her stared, shocked, at the scene that was present in the middle of the town.
The memory of his parents saying something reassuring, something that he could no longer remember, before being ripped into by Walkers resurfaced. Those deaths hadn't come out of the blue, although they felt like they had. Henry had just been tottering towards them and the next minute he was on the ground, dead?
"Ya can't go, Hannah. Someone shot 'im from afar," Daryl said in an attempt to calm her down. She finally managed to wrestle her way out of his grip but she didn't head straight for the old man, telling herself over and over again in her mind that if she did, they would shoot her too. She just stared at the body of the old man, hoping to see some signs of life. He had managed to survive for so long. They had gotten this far, how could he just topple over, dead, after all this time?
"Go inside," Daryl instructed the boy who just stood and stared at the body that was lying in the middle of the street.
Pablo looked at Daryl and nodded slowly before darting into the house. He felt the hate seethe within him for the bad men. They had been safe; they had finally been able to live a sort of normal life. Why did they have to shoot Henry, of all people? He slammed the door shut in anger before going to the only windowless room in their house, a bathroom, as Henry had told him to do if there ever was an attack.
"Get back inside!" Daryl shouted when he saw the door open at the house that Hershel and his family were staying in. They were across the street which meant that whoever shot Henry would have a clear view of them. A head peeked out from the door but quickly retreated once there was another shot. From the sound, no one did get shot.
"Henry! Henry, come on over here!" Hannah shouted as she noticed that the old man's body began moving.
Daryl looked at Hannah, wondering what the heck she was thinking. The chances that Henry had survived that shot were slim, especially since he had been lying motionless on the ground since he had been shot. He wondered how long they had been standing there, watching the old man's body. It felt like it had only been a short while but if he was coming back they could have been standing there for quite a while.
Slowly the old man's body began to rise up and there was no mistaking whether he was alive or… a Walker. The way he tottered over towards them was different than he had been doing before. The feet were shuffling and there was no friendly recognition in his expression. In fact it was empty. There was no expression at all.
"Ya gotta take 'im down, Hannah," Daryl informed her, motioning towards the reanimated old man. He looked at the redhead who seemed to simply stare at the Walker. Deciding that she wasn't going to do it he held out his hand. "Give me yer rifle."
Hannah looked away from the Walker and at Daryl. He was right; they had to take him down. He wasn't Henry, not the one that she had known anyways. He wasn't the same old man who had saved her and Pablo's life when they had been on the highway, watching as Pablo's parents threw their lives away. He wasn't the man who distrusted Rick, acted as a grandfather for Pablo or neglected to tell her that Daryl was in her room. He was no longer the loving father figure that she had never had.
She took the strip off so that she was able to hold her rifle properly. "I don't think he'd want you to shoot him," she said, pulling up the rifle so that she could aim properly at the Walker. She didn't shoot; she was waiting for him to come in closer. It took a while but soon he was so close to the porch that she could feel that Daryl was waiting for her to shoot him as soon as possible. Her finger on the trigger she couldn't help but think of the man who held Pablo as he cried for his parents.
She pulled the trigger, shooting down Henry just as he was at the foot of the porch.
As soon as she allowed the rifle to lower the tears began running and the sobs were choking up her throat. She backed up so that they were standing on the porch instead of on the steps. She tried to stifle the sobs unsuccessfully, one and one occasionally breaking through.
Daryl watched as she tried to compose herself, unsure what the best course of action would be. Since she was trying to keep it together, would offering her his embrace only make things worse or would they help? Should he leave her to her own accord and let her mourn for the old man? There wasn't going to be much time for her to mourn though. They must have shot the old man as a warning sign, to tell them that they were coming.
"Where's your crossbow?"
Daryl was surprised to see that she was taking the first step in getting ready. "'S at home," he said, revealing the pistol that he had with him. "I'm gonna get it," he said, placing a hand on Hannah's shoulder in an ill-timed attempt to console her. The redhead nodded, not saying anything in reply. He watched as she went down the steps and bent over the body of the old man. He found himself wishing that they had more time but he had to push the thought away as he ran over to his own home.
Hannah searched the old man's pockets and snagged the only piece of jewelry that he had on him. It was a bracelet that had a warning that he was deathly allergic to shellfish of any sorts. She pocketed it, happy that he had something that she could keep. "I'm sorry Henry, we should'a just stayed inside today," she said as she straightened herself out. She looked around to see the porch next to hers occupied by Glenn and Maggie, both of which had their weapons out. She walked over to their porch, her rifle in her hand.
"What happened?" Glenn asked, motioning towards the old man. It was obvious what had happened and Hannah was sure that they had all been looking out of the window, watching as Henry walked down the streets as one of those things. Maybe it was just a way for him to get confirmation that they were about to defend their town, that they were entering an unfair fight where they were likely not to survive, if what Merle had told her to write was true.
"They shot him," Hannah answered. "I think it was their way of telling us that they're coming." She watched as Glenn and Maggie shared a look, the kind that only two people could share and no one else would even begin to understand. She nodded to them before she bolted towards her house and into it.
Hearing that someone had entered the house, Pablo left the bathroom with the gun that he had been given in his hands, aimed higher than his line of sight. These people were adults and he had to be prepared to try to shoot a little higher than he would if it was a child. He let his hands fall to his side when he saw who had entered the house. He ran to her, throwing his arms around her when he reached her.
"Mama!"
This time, the sound of Pablo's voice filled Hannah's heart with dread. She had already lost one member of her family; she certainly didn't want to lose Pablo. When the boy pulled away from their hug she stood up straight and looked down at him. He was only eight years old but he was acting at least double his age. Maybe the maturity of Carl had rubbed off or maybe he had been growing up so much recently that she had just forgotten to notice that he no longer acted like an eight year old. Maybe it was just wishful thinking in her mind that he would always act his age in a world like this.
"Remember what Henry told you to do when the bad guys came?" she asked, receiving a prompt nod from Pablo. "Go there and stay there. Do not, I repeat, do not leave that bathroom unless I call your name," she instructed, hoping that the boy would listen to her. "I don't care what you hear. If you hear me screaming, don't come. If you hear the gunshots stop, don't come until I tell you to or someone comes and gets you. Do you understand me?"
Her heart was filled with fear at the prospect of this little boy getting in the middle of a fight between two groups of living people. She placed a kiss on the boy's forehead when he nodded and told her that he understood. She gave him a light push and watched as he ran back into the windowless bathroom. She went to their room and picked up the leather pouch she had found when she had been going through the closets in the house. It was big enough to carry at least twenty stripper clips, which meant that she would be able to have one hundred shots, including the four that she currently had in her rifle. If she was forced to use all those stripper clips, she would be out of ammo.
She prayed that she wouldn't run out of ammo, at least not until they had eliminated the threat.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Well, it was a love/hate thing with the whole Henry bit. Thank you all for being so lovely and commenting, favoriting and following the story! I love knowing that people are reading this silly little story of mine!
