"Emma?"
No. No. This wasn't happening. Paige wasn't dead. She couldn't be dead. I had just seen her, I had just held her. She had been fine. She was in my arms, and I had told her that everything would be alright. I had told her that I would protect her. I had told her she would always be safe. But she wasn't anymore. She was dead, dying, and soon she would be gone. I had failed her.
"Emma?"
My tear strained eyes lifted from the dying girl in front of me, struggling for her final breaths, and locked onto my fahter's dark ones. He appeared blurry at first as did everyone else. I couldn't see the number of people properly and mild panic set in as I cast my gaze across the dark silhouettes of the surrounding group. My worst nightmares were coming to life once more, with the growing number of faceless figures, and images of my dying mother came to mind. I hadn't even noticed that my hands were shaking until I felt strong hands gently shake my shoulders in a calming manner. It was my father.
"Emma, please. You don't have to look at this." He coaxed, but I shook my head hard, pulling away from his meaningful embrace.
"No. No. I n-need to be h-h-here. I promised I would l-look after h-her. I p-p-promised."
Without allowing him to probe me further I swiftly turned away and carefully moved across th small space, to where Paige lay, gasping for air. Her neck was exposed, blood seeping from the wound in rivets of scarlet. She was staring up into the night sky, a fresh wave of pain surging through her. As I neared, bright blue eyes locked with mine and she choked out a gurgle of blood, tiny hands rising involuntary. I fought the urge to break down in front of the girl, knowing she would be scared in these final moments and would need me to be strong. I crouched low, taking her bloodied hand into my own as tears trickled down my face once more.
"Darling," I breathed, offering a small smile of reassurance though I knew it would not meet my eyes. The girl was crying as she panted, blood spurting from her face and staining her white shirt. "Oh darling, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I s-should have been here." Paige continued to stare. Her eyes locking with mine, pleading for me to help her. "It's g-going to be alright. Everything is going to be alright." I pulled the girl into my arms, gently grazing the top of her frizzy curls as she continued to gasp for air. These were the final moments, this is where I would loose her.
I hugged the girl closer.
All too suddenly, Paige stopped moving. She no longer looked to the sky, or gasped for air. Her body fell motionless in my arms, head bent backwards, eyes closed and mouth ajar.
She was gone.
Before I could even fathom what was happening, Paige was abruptly taken from my arms. Two sets of hands were on my shoulders keeping me in place as someone gently cradled her body into the distance. What was happening? Where were they taking her? I tried to jump to my feet, but the people holding me were much stronger, I was helpless.
"No," I pleaded. "Don't touch her. Don't touch her!" A pair of familiar hands pulled me up by the crook of my elbows, and held me close. I could barely see Paige's bob of frizzy curls behind the shadow of someone' figure.
"Emma, look away." The old man whispered into my ear. I cried out into his shoulder, still trying to fight his hold. "Em, please," he pleaded. "Don't look." My knees gave out and I gave the last strangled cry for the person holding Paige, to stop. The figure did not pause, moving beyond the treeline and into the darkness of the surrounding forest. My heart beat wildly, eyes piercing the space the figure holding Paige had just passed through. Only a moment passed before the familiar sound of a gunshot rang through the night. I cried out, the guilt gripping me closely once more and in my grief-stricken state I fell into my father's arms, barely able to make out the grave silence that had taken over the group.
A few moments passed and the figure re-emerged. It was Charlie. He had killed Paige.
I woke alone.
Which was no surprise really. Andrea was seldom in our shared cell anymore. The blonde was usually out on guard duties, doing her best to distance herself from the rest of the group, especially me. It had been two weeks since the attack on the prison. Since then, everyone had returned to some semblance of normality – if surviving a zombie apocalypse is what you would call normal. Rick had ordered the re-build of all prison fences, which involved fortifying any weak spots and strengthening the main entrance. Once everything was settled with the welcoming of Andrea and I, rotating watches were put into place. At first the others were hesitant, but were soon silenced when Andrea relayed to them what had happened since the farm had fallen. No one complained after that. And things were soon running at a somewhat organised fashion.
But that didn't mean that everything ran smoothly.
Upon learning that the dark haired woman was in fact Lori Grimes, the pregnant wife of our fair leader, the group's dynamics shifted. There was an terseness about, created mostly by Lori, who would seize every opportunity to yell at her husband over pointless things.
And I knew exactly what the problem was. Or whom it was, to be exact.
Andrea still hadn't told me about her relationship with the leader. If I brought it up, she would outright ignore me, or would change the subject completely. I knew it was only a matter of time before she would tell me and that I had to be patient, but it was hard knowing something was wrong with her and being unable to do nothing about it. She never acted like this, so distant. I could never tell if she was angry at me or not, or whether she just needed space.
And the blonde wasn't the only one.
Rick wasn't the same man who had threatened me two weeks ago. He was solemn, anguished, and very emotional towards everyone in the group. No one knew what mood he would be in. On one occasion, he had outright yelled at The Doc for no reason. I remembered the shocked silence that followed, everyone pausing from their meals to frown at the leader. But of course Hershel Greene never took the instant to heart, for he knew what ailed his young friend. It was hard not to see, the leader wasn't exactly subtle about his emotions. His eyes would light up whenever Andrea neared him, or happened to be in the same room. It was almost an exact contrast to whenever Lori Grimes entered a room, his gaze would sink and he would glare at the floor in defeat.
It was all so crazy, and too much drama for me to handle so I made certain to stay well clear of everything, not wanting to make my stay more difficult for the others to handle, who were already having trouble adjusting to Andrea being back. I didn't have to make matters worse.
There was only one word to describe life at the prison.
Strange.
Not that I expected a five star hotel and enough food to feed an entire army, the quaint setting was actually pleasing to live in. It was just the people that I was unsure of. After the Doc had reported to Rick my injuries, it was decided that I would spend the first week on bed-rest; though the delay on meeting the others, only furthered my anxiety.
My shoulder was badly sprained in the fall I had taken, but would be healed in a couple of days. It was my stomach however, that had caused me to faint that day. A slight infection had developed within the wound but Hershel was able to clear it out before it was able to really set in.
The others were wary of a stranger living amongst them, but Rick made sure to introduce me as soon as I was able. I was awkwardly met by strangers upon my first day of freedom from my bed. Most seemed nice enough and greeted me cordially, but there were some whom still held a suspicious glint in their eyes. And I didn't blame them. I was still the new girl after all.
Surprisingly, it was Maggie Greene who I had come to spend most of my time with. She was always popping by my cell to check on me and would always ask me to sit with her whenever it was dinner time. There was no forced sincerity when I spoke with the girl, Maggie was a good friend, a kind and endearing person, who didn't hesitate in giving people their due.
It was strange, being surrounded by people again. I never thought in a million years that I would be sitting with the oddest group of humans, trying to survive a zombie apocalypse. My emotions were a wreck to say the least. Though I had had time to process meeting new people and being taken care of, the feeling of being safe again would ever be fully accepted, that much was true. The thought hit a little too close to home for my liking, but I was biting the bullet and going with it. Not to say that I trusted them anymore than I could throw them. I just didn't think they were bad people.
Which was saying a lot.
Sighing heavily, I jumped to my feet, rolling my neck around to rid the crick it had developed during the night, and quickly changed into a fresh set of clothes. My old blue sweater and denim jeans had been burned and discarded by Maggie, who had insisted that the scraps of battered material never be seen again. Instead she let me borrow one of her faded grey, tank tops, and a pair of dark jeans that were two sizes too small for the girl. I threw them on swiftly, mindful of my healing torso, and hastily tied my hiking boots. Scraping my hands through dark, wavy hair and pinching my cheeks lightly, I turned from the cell and marched across the landing to the far side of cell block C.
The sun was beaming through windows to my right, creating calming rays of sunlight throughout the eerie space. I managed a small smile as I rounded the last cell, tapping on the doorway lightly.
"Knock, knock."
Hershel Greene was rearranging several medical supplies on one of the many shelving units as I entered. He turned and beamed back at me, wearing his customary brown farmer pants, and checkered shirt. It was quite a hoot when I discovered that he and Maggie actually lived on a farm once upon a time, but I never gave him hell for it.
The Greene daughter on the other hand, wasn't so lucky.
"Ah Emma m'dear, come on in." The Doc motioned towards the empty bed beside him and I gladly swept into the room, taking my customary seat, obligingly. Rick and the others had already established the small space as their temporary infirmary. What few supplies I had managed to salvage in the small town, were lined along the wall accordingly. The group hadn't yet made any attempts towards clearing the rest of the prison. Since their arrival only three weeks ago, too many things had dettered it, and although they were somewhat settled now, the leader was still wary that they fortify their defences before advancing on the rest of the prison; a move I couldn't help but agree with. It was best they wait until everything was running smoothly before they dive head first into something dangerous, especially if something were to go wrong and the majority of the group were otherwise preoccupied.
"So what's the prognosis Doc?" I settled deeper into the mattress, crossing my legs languidly. Since that day two weeks ago, Hershel had insisted on seeing me every morning until he was certain I was okay. This was no matter to me however, as I rather enjoyed my talks with the man. The Doc smiled, taking a seat in front of me. "Am I a free woman yet?" I continued bashfully. "Because you know I'm beginning to think these morning visits are just an attempt to see me everyday, which I might add, is totally fine by me."
The old man chuckled at my jest, but proceeded to assess my temperature and breathing habits with a shake of his head. I smiled slightly, rolling my eyes at him at another failed attempt to embarrass the man. These were usually how our conversations would start. I would make a smart ass comment about his over-protective nature, and he would ignore me. But I knew this wouldn't last forever. It was only The Doc being particular about his work. When he was satisfied that the wound on my torso was healing properly he settled back into his seat and smiled.
"The wound is healing very nicely, you should be back to normal in a couple more weeks, so long as you don't do anything rash," his eyes narrowed in mock severity and I beamed back at the man, not put off at all by his protective nature. It reminded me so much of my father.
"Don't worry Doc. I have no intention of playing the hero anytime soon."
Hershel smiled, getting to his feet to return the few medical supplies he had used. "Well I'm glad to hear it." He drawled. "So tell me dear, how are you finding life at the prison?"
I shrugged, already sensing the question. "It's good," my mind quickly poured over the past few days in a blur. Besides everything that was going on with Rick and the blonde, I was actually beginning to like the prison. It was strange and new, and sometimes I felt like an outisder. But it was the most safety I had had in eight months, and that was something no one could complain about. "I really appreciate the others letting me stay," I continued. "Despite wanting to leave initially, I think I made the right decision in coming here."
He locked eyes with me from across the room, providing a reassuring half-smile. "That's good to hear," he drawled, but always one to pry, his eyes focused more determinedly as he took his seat once more. "And how do you feel about the group?"
My eyes dropped and I stared at the floor for a long while before answering. "It's weird," I answered truthfully, seeing no real danger in opening up to The Doc. He was by far one of the only people I trusted from the prison group and as long as the conversation was far from me, I was happy. "Having people around, people you can trust, and depend on. It's all very weird. Something I'm not used to." I looked up from the floor and attempted a small smile, but could tell that it didn't reach my eyes. "I guess being on the road for so long, you forget what it's like to have good people around you, people you can trust won't betray you."
The old man was silent as he watched me, no doubt pondering my words over in his mind before answering. After another long moment, the old man reached forward and grasped my hand, squeezing it lightly. "I know this must be hard for you," he began, eyeing me close. It was as if he could see right into my soul, right into the dark corners of my mind. I felt exposed. "All these changes can be a lot for any person to stand, let alone someone who was forced to survive this new world we live in, alone." His eyes shone as he watched me, gripping my hand tighter. "This world has changed in more ways than we can imagine, some of them good and some of them bad. But who we trust now is what makes us different from everyone else. That's the only way any of us will survive not only this world, but life in general. If we learn to find it within ourselves to trust and be trusted, than life shall be easier to live."
I stared back, momentarily at a loss for words. I hadn't even noticed the single tear drop that fell from my dark eyes and I hastily swiped it away. "Sorry," I mumbled, retracting my hand. But Hershel merely shook his head with the same reassuring smile.
"Don't worry about it m'dear," he whispered, waiting for me to settle once more before continuing. "You know, you remind me of my daughter." I glanced at him through wet lashes, trying to piece together his findings. If anything, Maggie and I were the complete opposites. She was so kind and reassuring, much like her father in that sense, and although the Greene daughter had many assertive qualities, I believed her true nature was one of calm and gentleness.
"Are you talking about Maggie?"
Surprisingly, Hershel shook his head before I had even finished, though a somewhat distant look crossed over his half-smile. "I have another daughter named Beth," he paused, averting his gaze. "Or rather, I had a daughter. She died before we came here."
This news was heartbreaking.
"I'm so sorry Hershel," my voice quivered. "I never knew."
"Oh, it's not your fault m'dear," he smiled though the gesture wasn't quite as full as it had been before. An awkward silence seemed to simmer, Hershel looked out into the open space beyond the doorway, his eyes marvelling at the unknown. "She was beautiful," he said, after a long pause. I remained silent through its entirety, not wanting to interrupt the old man. "So young and full of life, always falling in love with boys. She was more of a handful than Maggie ever was. But her heart was good. She was good." I nodded, attempting a small smile, but the man still would not meet my gaze. Instead he continued staring straight ahead at nothing in particular.
"She sounds lovely," I croaked. My imagination had spun into overdrive. What happened to his daughter? How did she die? Hershel was silent in front of me, his eyes unwavering, but I could tell he sensed the burning within me.
"I never thought I'd have to see her die," he whispered, gaze locked straight ahead. "No parent should have to see their child die. It's a worse feeling than being tortured physically, I'd imagine. Seeing my baby girl, ripped apart before me…...It was like I was being ripped apart too." Tears had spurred from his eyes, and I immediately reached forward to grasp his shoulder. The old man turned to me, eyes tinged red, but still struggling to maintain his same reassuring smile. My heart nearly broke. It reminded me so much of my father in the days before the apocalypse started; the days where he was the good man who had raised me right. But I blocked the sudden thoughts that threatened to appear. Now was not the time to get emotional. Instead, I focused on Hershel once more. His eyes were shining now, though he wasn't crying. A glimmer of pain flashed beneath the contours of his aging face, but there was something else there too. Something I couldn't quite explain. "She was strong," he drawled, with the same throaty tone he always used. "Strong like you." He paused, offering a small smile, and this time it did not falter. "She had a good heart, just like her mother, and just like you too, Emma."
My head bowed involuntarily and I ducked away, a natural reaction to meaningful moments. These conversations usually had one direction, and it was a direction I did not want to head towards whatsoever. "Oh I don't know Doc," my smirk was forced and could only be maintained momentarily. Hershel could see right through it, I could tell, but I continued regardless. "I think I'm more of a hotheaded, brat than anything."
The Doc chuckled at my blatant downplay and tapped my knee affectionately. "Despite what you may think of yourself m'dear, I can see you for who you really are." His eyes focused solely on me then, almost as if to harden his resolve. "You have a good heart Emma Morgan, and it's people like you, that we need more of in this world."
Well shit.
"Ahem." Someone cleared their throat.
The Doc swiveled in his seat almost immediately, his signature smile replacing the frown. I was slower to react, still trying to process his words through my mind, wary of another presence in the doorway. Strangely, it was as if my body could tell who stood there before the rest of me had even had time to mentally think about it. My head turned slowly to meet the blue eyes of the expected figure and I couldn't help the small gasp that escaped.
It was him.
"Ah, Daryl, come on in." Hershel drawled, rising from the stool in front of me. I sat staring at the lean figure in the doorway, caught in a moment of shock before slowly registering who it was.
My eyes narrowed.
For two weeks, Daryl had basically ignored my existence. He was much like Andrea in a sense, but worse in terms of actual communication. At least Andrea told me how her day was going every so often, even if it was a mumbled reply. She didn't close off like some morose, anguished, unresponsive, redneck, who would disappear whenever I was around. Daryl hadn't spoken two words to me since the attack on the prison. Not that that mattered, considering I hardly saw him anyway. He was always out on guard shifts, or tracking some animal through the woods. Whenever he did appear with the group he would avoid eye contact altogether, always glancing away or acting as if I wasn't even there to begin with.
The arrow man lingered in the doorway, glancing over his shoulder every so often to the rest of the cell block, obviously uncomfortable with me being there. "Rick's callin' everyone downstairs." He replied gruffly, dismissing the invite with a swift shake of his head. He didn't once meet my gaze, instead looking straight at Hershel. I doubted the move went unnoticed by him, though The Doc nodded with a small smile, not one to dwell on awkward situations.
"Alright, I'll be down in a moment," he turned to me and patted my shoulder, a glimmer of what had transpired between us, beneath his wise eyes. "You can go with Daryl dear. Tell Rick I'll be down shortly, just need to tidy up first."
I was on my feet before he had finished, and nodded once as I swept through the doorway. The arrow man backed up a few inches, his eyes to the floor, allowing me to move in front of him. This was something that I was used to, as it was something that Daryl had done a lot of lately. I immediately swept past him without a single word, waving goodbye to Hershel. I huffed, storming forward with a little more force than intended.
I still didn't know what to make of Daryl's conduct.
He wasn't outright rude, and he never said anything hurtful, but his constant silence was torture enough. At first I thought he was just resorting back to his old ways now that he had rejoined his group. I saw his gruff demeanour as more of a defence mechanism than anything, so wasn't too bothered when he ignored me the first few times. But after a while it just became ridiculous. Whenever we bumped into each other by accident, he would always stare at the ground or turn and walk the other way. I tried talking casually with him, to lighten whatever tautness he might be experiencing, but when that didn't work, I resorted to full blown anger.
I didn't know why, but I hated how he was treating me. It wasn't the fact that he wasn't talking to me; I understood that he was a man of few words. But the fact that he didn't even acknowledge my presence was what angered me most of all. It was as if everything that had happened between us, didn't happen at all.
A sudden memory came to mind as I stalked towards the stairwell, forgetting for the moment the reality of our new world as full-blown rage propelled my body forward.
My front was pressed to his side and I could feel the heat of our exertions flowing from his lean form and heating my own. I held his gaze, a flush of crimson warming my cheeks. Daryl seemed to realise his position, but instead of shoving me away like I half-expected of the man, he met my gaze evenly, transforming his harsh frown into a softer one. We stared at each other, dark eyes into blue, forgetting for one small moment that the world had turned to shit. Everything slowed; there was not the sound of growling corpses, nor the stench of rotting flesh. Not even the vain attempts of our comrades could be heard; for there was nothing but the two of us in that moment, staring into each other's eyes, our hearts beating wildly in unison.
Remembering the exact rush of adrenaline that had coursed through my veins in that moment, I sighed, and couldn't help the flush of scarlet across my cheeks. I quickly tried to cover up my haphazard thoughts, flicking my dark waves so that they covered my face cordially. But in the process to hide my embarrassment, I wasn't watching my feet, and missed the first step down the metal stairwell.
I gasped at the rush of wind, too surprised by the suddenness of my mishap to reach forward and grasp the metal railing beside me. This was going to hurt, I squeezed my eyes close and prepared for a painful impact.
But it didn't come.
Strong hands gripped my shirt, tight from behind, pulling me back against a familiar hard front. I opened my eyes, breathing heavily and stared up into a tantalizing sight. Bright, blue eyes stared back at me, all manner of concern and worry written over his face. Daryl had his arms tight around my waist, keeping me there, though I doubted he knew how tightly he was holding me. One hand rose from my waist and brushed a strand of hair from my eyes. "You 'kay?" He whispered. I almost caved at the worried tone in his deep drawl. It was so strange of the arrow man to express this kind of emotion, especially lately. And for a moment I merely stared, dumbfounded.
He was so strange.
When I continued to stare, Daryl suddenly cleared his throat and abruptly dropped his arms, moving away just as cautiously. I felt saddened by this gesture, knowing that the arrow man had returned yet again, to his usual tendencies. But that sadness was only short lived, and the familiar curl of anger spurred through me once more.
My eyes narrowed at him, lingering near the top of the stairs, unchanging in his guarded stance. It was beginning to grate on my nerves, but there was hardly anything I could do about it now. I brushed past his shoulder, mumbling my thanks and headed down the stairs, careful not to miss any steps this time. I didn't look over my shoulder as I went, but could sense his eyes following me across the floor. At the bottom I was greeted by the others with a small nod. Andrea was sitting in the far right hand corner and I swiftly made my way to her side, nodding my hello, though the blonde ignored me as usual. It seemed the group had been waiting on Hershel and I. My eyes quickly scanned the area, pausing on Maggie's silhouette where she too ignored the smiled that I offered.
There was a slight tension in the room, one that I couldn't quite place.
As my mind worked to locate the pressured source, Daryl paced into the room followed closely by Hershel, the only person to cast a smile towards me. The arrow man didn't even glance my way as he moved to the opposite side of the room, far from anyone. It was silly really, and I repressed the urge to punch something with my fist.
Just then the leader cleared his throat at the head of the group.
"Okay," Rick drawled. "I guess we'll start."
Carl Grimes had been cleaning his weapon whilst waiting for everyone to settle on the bottom level of the cell block, but he looked up when his father spoke, a harsh frown crossing his features. "Aren't we going to wait for mom?"
Everyone tensed in anticipation, Maggie exchanged a look with her father, the pair knowing full well how sensitive the subject was. When her father merely stared back, Maggie lowered her gaze and bowed her head, not wanting to embarrass the leader further. Rick stared at his son, his face showing nothing but the stoic leader they had all come to know, and with the silent gesture, Carl understood the answer, tipping his head so that it was hidden beneath the shadow of his father's hat.
"We've made good progress over these past two weeks," the leader continued, seemingly unphased by the interruption. "I appreaciate everyone's efforts in making sure that the prison was safe during that time, and also to Glenn and Daryl, who've pulled extra guard shifts." He motioned towards the pair with his head, before addressing the rest of the group once more. Maggie noted Glenn's stiff posture, and how he ignored the leader, pretending to be interested in the weather outside. Daryl barely grunted his reply, his eyes glancing briefly on the pair at the far corner of the room. Andrea wasn't paying attention, and Emma looked ready to roll her eyes at her supposed friend, leaning over her knees with a barely audible sigh.
It was still a surprise for Maggie to see a new face amongst their group. Emma was hardly the threat that Rick had anticipated, but Maggie knew that didn't mean the woman was weak. She pulled her weight like everyone else, cleaning clothes, cooking food, and helping to fortify the prison's fence. She still wasn't trusted to be on guard duties just yet, even though she was more than capable. Rick and the others were still hesitant, but Maggie didn't think it would be long before the woman was integrated into the group properly, and given the jobs she really wanted, not the domesticated ones she grudgingly accepted. Hershel Greene, Maggie's father, would constantly scold the woman for overworking her injuries, but Emma was always insistent on helping around the place. It wasn't really a matter of proving herself to the group, Maggie noticed. It was more because she knew that helping out was the right thing to do – something that had long since been sustained by the woman.
Maggie took the time to study her now.
She was beautiful. That much was clear. Although there was a slight drawn look about her, Maggie could easily see the beauty there. She was short, and small, the size of child to some, probably one of the tiniest there. Her hair was long and dark, curling into soft waves that fell to the small of her back and sparkled under the early morning sun. Her eyes were just as dark as her hair, big and bold, standing out against flawless, ivory skin. Maggie was envious of the woman's seemingly perfect body, compared to her own. But it wasn't even her looks that stood out for the Greene daughter; it was her commanding, yet tender, conduct that shone through most of all.
Emma Morgan was a good person.
There was no doubt about it. She carried herself with a little more dignity than most, unafraid to voice her opinions like that of a fiery spirit, ready to vanquish the world of all evil. And yet since the woman had arrived, Maggie was able to learn more about the softer, gentler version, Emma kept bottled up inside. Her heart was good and in the right place, a rarity amidst the bullshit of a world the Greene daughter and the rest of the group had come to know in. Despite Emma's hesitation to join the prison group in the beginning, Maggie could sense the woman's view had somewhat changed, though the reason for that remained unclear. There was still the same driving force, hidden deep within the woman's mind, it was obvious. Maggie had seen it before, two weeks ago. It was probably the reason Emma had been so withdrawn when she had helped them. She was hiding something, a secret that she didn't want anyone to know. Only Maggie and her father could see it, though they never voiced their concern. Besides trusting Emma completely, Maggie respected the woman's privacy. Everyone had secrets they didn't want to share. The Greene daughter herself had things she would never share with the others, things she wasn't proud of. But that didn't mean she was any different from anyone else. And neither was Emma.
"I don't like it." The Greene Daughter's attention was averted as a familiar voice suddenly echoed across the room. "We should wait."
Glenn was facing away from her, but Maggie knew that it was him who had just spoken, the voice was un-mistaking. It was the same tone he had used with her over the past few days, forced and harsh. She hadn't been paying attention to the conversation and frowned as her boyfriend stepped forward to glare at their leader.
Maggie and Glenn had never been so distant than in the past two weeks. He was moody, callous, rude, almost the exact opposite to what his personality usually was. Maggie had tried on several occasions to speak to him, but he would always ignore her, mumbling something about guard duties or someone needing him. At first Maggie had given him his much needed distance, for she knew why he was acting so distant.
That's it.
A sudden thought came to her. The memory of Glenn standing beyond the herd of walkers, staring up at her in utter defeat. She wouldn't have noticed it before, or would have passed it off as plain concern. But she had seen the look before. Rick had exposed it when he discovered Andrea was dead, all that time ago. The leader was filled with remorse, the kind of sadness that fuelled anger, because he had lost the love of his life.
From this, Maggie had learned two things.
One, Rick and Andrea were more than friends. Which, now that she thought about it, wasn't that surprising at all. They had always been close and in some ways were more compatible than his own wife, Lori. Andrea was strong, the type of woman who respected the men she loved. Although the blonde fooled around once or twice, he heart had always belonged to Rick. It was obvious. Because just like with Rick, Andrea was open and more herself around him.
The second fact Maggie had learned, and who she credited Rick for, was that the argument her and Glenn had, wasn't pointless at all. In fact, it was far from it. The entire time she had tried to figure why he had snapped, why he was acting different, rage-filled, angered, and firm. And it was all came back to what Rick had expressed the day he thought Andrea had died.
Glenn had almost lost her.
That was why he was violent, and broken in the same instance. His heart was shattered from almost loosing her twice, and it was all her fault.
But the more he pulled away the more she was inclined to voice her heartache.
The Greene daughter had tried everything. She spoke to her father and Dale, seeking any kind of guidance, but she was always met with the same piece of advice. 'Just give him time.' Of course that was exactly what Maggie was afraid of. She was afraid there wouldn't be enough time, and in the blink of an eye Glenn would be taken from her.
Maggie shuddered at the thought, focusing once more on the two men across the room. The leader looked as if he had expected the argument from his comrade and sighed deeply, his hands on narrow hips, before meeting the young man's frown.
"Glenn, I get why you're hesita–"
"–It's too risky, and besides, who're you willing to jeopardize going with you?" Glenn cut in before the leader could finish. A fresh wave of tension filled the air, and the entire group seemed to shift slightly, feeling the intensity flowing from the young warrior standing before his leader. Maggie stepped forward out of instinct, her body naturally reacting with the urge to help Glenn. But one stern look from her father made Maggie pause. He shook his head once, knowing that if she were to get involved, matters would only get worse. As Rick stepped forward to answer Glenn however, the pair quickly fell silent, as a slender shadow moved forward from the upper cell block.
Lori Grimes had entered the room.
The entire group visibly adjusted their original stance. Maggie looked to the concrete floor, Daryl turned towards T-dog beside him, who made a great effort to stare out at windows high above to his left. Carol sat awkwardly with her daughter Sophia in her lap, the short haired woman coughed once to show her uneasiness. Patricia awkwardly maneuvered further into the concrete wall of the room, stepping away from Emma, who had taken to standing at some point during the argument, a deep frown forming. Glenn and Rick moved only slightly, stepping away from each other and allowing the dark haired woman to saunter past them. The woman barely registered the movements of the group, her dark eyes snapping on the only unchanging figure in the room. Andrea was seated at one of the many steel Rec tables, her blue eyes cast downwards, arms hanging freely over slim legs. She didn't look up as Lori glared at her, but it was obvious that the blonde could sense Lori's closeness by the scarlet fists placed carefully in her lap.
Maggie hadn't really had time to observe the entire situation between them, having been caught up in her own drama to really give much thought to the weird love triangle between her leader, his wife and his lover. Sure, she knew all about what had happened two weeks ago when the group had arrived at the prison. Lori had argued with her husband in front of everyone, calling him a liar and cheat. That night, much like her and Glenn, Rick found himself in another cell altogether, listening to the constant flow of tears from his wife all through the night. Although the pair had somewhat settled their differences for the sake of their son Carl, the pure loathing and hatred that seeped from the woman, enough to kill an entire army of walkers, still remained.
That much was clear.
Lori Grimes never let it go unnoticed, the pure jealousy she held towards Andrea. She constantly muttered side remarks and whispered empty threats. If the blonde was concerned, she didn't show it. But that didn't mean that Andrea hadn't changed. She was still the same confident and loyal, blonde Maggie had come to know, but there was something off about the woman. Something that the Greene daughter couldn't quite place.
Maggie frowned, watching as Lori took her seat beside Carol, smiling briefly at the woman, before turning to Rick; a more superior and somewhat arrogant look crossing her features.
"Oh please," she motioned towards her husband and Glenn. "Do continue."
Rick stared at her a moment, narrowing his eyes. It was pathetic, a lame attempt by the dark-haired woman to try and assert her authority as if she hadn't a care in the world. Maggie refrained from rolling her eyes at the woman. Of course Lori had every right to be pissed. Rick loved Andrea. It was plain to almost everyone in the group. Only an idiot couldn't see what was painfully obvious. Rick was a man in love. Unfortunately he was a man in love with another woman. So Maggie understood the hatred. She just didn't think it was necessary.
Rick hadn't actually done anything wrong.
He was a good man, a good husband. And in a world filled with savage beasts, that was hard to come by. Of course he has his faults, what man didn't, but at the end of the day Rick remained by Lori's side, through good and bad, he had been there. His heart would forever be with Andrea, that much was clear, but Rick wasn't the type of man to just give up on his responsibilities. Finding the prison had all been for Lori's sake, the woman was pregnant, and although he had turned into some unknown, darkling that took all his anger out on everyone. His intentions were always good.
Lori's constant sneers and bickering were pointless and unnecessary, all they were doing was pushing Rick further and further away. Maggie sighed, looking away from the dark-haired woman and back to the leader, poised and unchanging.
"So you're planning on searching the rest of the prison?" Carol whispered hesitantly from the corner of the room, not one to dwell on awkward situations. The Greene daughter had been too caught up in the prison's current episode of 'The young and the restless,' that it took her a moment to process what she had missed whilst wandering off.
She frowned, taking in Carol's words. "We're searching the rest of the prison?"
Every set of eyes turned to her, as if surprised she had been in the room to begin with. Andrea looked up from her fisted hands and frowned. Emma smirked. But it was Glenn who moved to answer. "We are," he began, eyes narrowing slightly. "You're staying here."
Maggie's mouth opened in surprise, but she didn't have the chance to respond as Andrea suddenly interrupted. "But that doesn't mean that all of us need to stay behind." She jumped from the rec table and motioned towards Glenn. "I'm more than capable of helping out."
"And don't we know it," Lori mumbled from her seat beside Carol, though the snide remark had gone unnoticed by Andrea, it hadn't gone unnoticed by her husband. Rick glared at her, eyes narrowing to slits as Lori offered a simple shrug in response. When no-one seemed willing to interrupt the chilling moment, Daryl cleared his throat to gather the leader's attention.
"If we're gonna do this, we need least five f'us," he grunted.
Glenn was the first to react, after a long pause. "Well Maggie's staying here. That's final." The Greene daughter didn't have the energy to argue with him, their previous arguments having drained her completely already. Instead she nodded solemnly, and folded her arms across her chest.
"I can go," Carl Grimes quickly interjected, his face eager and alert. Rick was already shaking his head before the hopeful gleam had sparked in his son's eyes.
"No. It's too dangerous. I need you here, safe." Rick replied simply, though there was a slight harshness to his tone. Carl growled his frustration, but did not press the matter further. Even he seemed to realize his father had well and truly reached his limits, and sharply nodded once in his father's direction.
A moment of silence followed, no one willing to voice their opinions further, even Daryl remained silent, deep in thought. Maggie followed his line of sight to where Emma and Andrea were waiting in anticipation for the leader's decision. It was then that she realised, everyone was waiting for the leader, even his wife.
Rick sighed, stepping forward with his hands on hips and a slight strained expression, almost as if he were exhausted beyond relief. He turned to the man in the far corner, his stoic guise reappearing from the depths of his fatigue. "T-Dog, I need you to stay behind as well," he grunted. "I want you and Maggie on guard. One inside, and one in the closest guard tower. Carol and Patricia will also be here, so take the shifts in turns." Without so much as a glance her way Rick continued on tersely. "Lori, you can take care of the children with Hershel and Dale, make sure they're safe and inside at all times." The dark-haired woman merely stared back, but it was Maggie's father who made the attempt to acknowledge the leader with a slight nod of his head. Rick then turned to the arrow man beside him and frowned, but more out of tiredness than resolve. "The rest of us will clear the prison, search for the mess hall and infirmary." He locked eyes with each remaining member of the group, settling on Emma and Andrea. His eyes narrowed in suspicion, appearing to calculate some deep thought in his mind. When it seemed a few hours had passed, the leader finally cleared his throat. "How do you feel about helping out?" At first Maggie believed the question had been directed at Andrea, and her eyes unwillingly locked with Lori across the space. The dark haired woman scowled, but did not move to object, or move at all for that matter. It was only then did Maggie realize the question had been directed to Emma.
"I'm fine," the woman drawled, rising to her feet as if to physically accept the challenge. "It's about time I did something useful around here."
Maggie wouldn't have noticed if her green eyes hadn't glanced his way briefly, but she saw it, as bright as day. Daryl had watched the pair with interest and slight concern, his arms were folded guardedly across his broad chest, signature frown in place. But it wasn't his demeanour that caught Maggie's attention, she wouldn't have thought twice about it if she hadn't seen the look before, the look in his eyes. She'd only seen one other person have that look, and it had been her boyfriend, Glenn.
Odd.
Before Maggie could further her musings, a familiar drawl echoed across the room. "Emma," it was her father who had spoken and Maggie averted her gaze to the old man across from her. He frowned at the fiery woman, brows pulled together in frustration. "Are you sure about this?"
The woman didn't falter in her firm stance, much to the Greene daughter's surprise. "Yes. I'll be fine Doc, don't worry about me."
Hershel Green sighed rather dramatically and turned back to the rest of the group, his hands obviously tied. Rick was already bringing the meeting to a swift close. "Then it's settled," he grunted. "T-Dog and Maggie are on watch. Patricia and Carol will relieve them if need be, and Hershel will be in charge if there are any problems," the group nodded in understanding, and with that Rick turned on his heel to prepare for their leave. "Meet back here in five minutes with you're weapons."
The group dispersed.
Maggie immediately jogged to catch up with her boyfriend. Glenn hadn't spoken a word since voicing his concerns about allowing certain people to raid the prison. It wasn't a total shock that he didn't want her to go, but Maggie still found it difficult to ignore the fighting temptation to help the others. If it was the reassurance that Glenn needed than she would bite the bullet and stay put. How long she would be able to keep up the mindset, was a different story altogether.
Glenn stalked to the far end of the cell block. Since their argument two weeks ago, he had slept in his own cell. Maggie missed him during the nights more than anything. She yearned for him to be by her side again, holding her closely and whispering how much he loved her. It almost seemed as if it had all been a distant dream, but Maggie knew her love for him hadn't changed and no matter how unlike himself Glenn was acting, she could not deny her feelings for him.
She paused at the doorway he had passed through moments before; a sense of de ja vu washing over her. It was exactly as it had been two weeks ago, not much had changed. He was still pissed and she was still struggling to understand.
"Hey," Maggie whispered.
Glenn paused from loading his weapon. He was facing away from her and Maggie was able to see the tension in his strong shoulders. She waited patiently as he made quick work of stowing his pistol and checking that his knife was also securely fastened.
"Hey," he mumbled a reply. If she hadn't been paying attention, Maggie doubted she would have heard it. Although a simple reply, her heart soared all the same at the sound of his voice. It was the first time he had spoken to her in days and she had forgotten how much she had missed his voice. He turned just as she had opened her mouth to continue the conversation, but she paused, observing the harshness in his frown. "Do you need something?" He grunted, tucking a flashlight into his side pocket.
Maggie stammered at first, thrown by the harshness of his demeanour, but she rolled her shoulders back and eyed him squarely. "Just wanted to be sure you had everything."
Glenn nodded, casting his gaze to the far corner of the cell. "Yeah I'm good." The reply was short, forced, not like Glenn at all. Maggie had to refrain the urge to cry. Instead she nodded slowly and allowed the dismissive comment to roll off her.
"Do you need anything else, another weapon?"
Glenn continued staring, eyes unwavering. They quickly moved over her in an unassuming fashion, almost an exact replica to what Lori had given Andrea in their meeting. Though Glenn wasn't quite as abrasive, he was most likely just checking that she was alright. When he moved forward to question her further, Maggie shook her head.
"I was just checking you had everything," she whispered again, painfully closing her eyes. "Be careful out there." And with that Maggie turned on her heel and marched as fast as she could from the room. She bumped into T-Dog along the way and informed the man that she would gladly take the shift in the nearest guard tower, right beside cell block C. Without even allowing him to respond, Maggie stalked outside and up the familiar set of guard tower stairs. She hovered near the railing and glanced out at the grass compound beyond. It seemed funny to her, how quickly things changed. Only two weeks ago they had had their first brush of danger against the prison.
And Maggie couldn't help but think, this was only the beginning.
A/N: Hey guys, there's a lot going on this chapter, but I'll be posting another one up soon, so will explain more then. Hope you enjoy...XX
K
