Hey everyone.
First things first, I want you all to know that I will never abandon this story. I have too many ideas rolling around in my head to let this story disappear into nothing. Most of you are probably frustrated, I get that, but I hope you still have a little faith in me and continue along this journey with me. I desperately hope that you all can forgive me for my little hiatus. With too much on the mind, my hands struggle to type out the words that my brain wants to get right.
In other words, it take a lot of energy to make words go lol.
I hope all of you are doing well and that the first few months of 2017 have been kind to you.
A warm thank you to Gingerman454, Ivorywhite1434, arujao, xBanhammerx, elljayde, and sweetlilac for following/favouriting the story. The support means the world to me, so thank you very very much. :) (i apologize if I've misspelt any of the usernames or if you recently added the story and I accidentally missed you. It is currently 2 am and I'm dying lol)
For reviews:
djmegamouth: haha I'm glad you enjoyed Scarlett's reaction at the end of the last chapter. I felt it was appropriate for her character lol. Happy to hear you liked the chapter as well!
sweetlilac: It's wonderful to hear that you're enjoying the story so far! I hope to elaborate more on Scarlett's backstory once the story reaches season two. There have been a few hints as to what happened regarding her family life before it was just her and her sister, but things will become more clear in time. Thank you for the support, and welcome to 'Blood in the Cut'!
I truly appreciate everyone's patience with me. This chapter turned out to be much longer than I had anticipated, but I figured you guys deserved something bulkier regarding my absence and all. I can't say that I'm officially off hiatus, but I will do my very best to get up another chapter as soon as I can.
Here's the new chapter~
The itching in her hands was getting worse. Tired and cold, the night sky provided no comfort to Scarlett or the others, for that matter. She hadn't spoken to the rest of the group for a couple hours now, though her irritation from earlier had melted away a while back. Thinking that she needed time to mull things over, she was proven wrong whenever she tried to look at their situation, or what the world had come to. Her mind would diverge into those dark corners that only held unpleasant thoughts. Thankfully, when the sun disappeared over the horizon and the sky turned dark, her attention was brought to her surroundings, other than what was going on inside her head.
Unconsciously scratching at her hands, Scarlett quickly tore them apart and let out a shaky breath. She needed to wash her hands, the urge much stronger than it usually would be. Then again, since she'd washed her hands so much at the care center back in Atlanta, her old habits were coming back.
Hearing soft talking from behind her, she reached into her backpack and managed to pull out her water bottle with one hand. Tucking Stella under her arm, Scarlett undid the cap on her bottle and poured a small amount on her hands before tossing it back in her bag. She began rubbing the water over the backs of her hands, working it eventually into her palms and fingers. The cool sensation was nice, and while it wasn't the most practical way of cleaning her hands, it helped stop the itching. For the time being, at least.
They had to be close to reaching the camp. Hours of walking had been spent and it was safe to say everyone was getting tired. She didn't need to look over at the group to tell that they were exhausted; she could hear it in their voices.
"Could really use some water right about now."
A quiet scoff left Scarlett's lips at the passive request from behind her. The voice had been a lot louder than the hushed whispers that had been going on for over a half hour now, and intentionally so, because it was specifically directed at her. Leave it to Daryl to demand something even when he was being indirect about it.
Reaching into her bag and fishing the bottle out, Scarlett spun to face the group while continuing to walk backwards. The four men were walking together, the exception being Daryl, who was keeping his distance from the others. They all looked tired to the point of exhaustion and possibly mild irritation, but nowhere near as pissed as she'd been when they left the city. She also noticed that each one of them had been given a rifle or shotgun, most likely to protect themselves from any walkers that roamed in the dark. Glenn had his eyes fixed on the ground beneath them, while T-Dog had his head lolled back, almost as if he were asking the universe why it had made someone as shitty as Merle Dixon. Rick's gaze was facing forward, watching out for any danger. Though when Scarlett had turned around, the former sheriff had glanced over at her in question.
Moving her gaze over to the final member of the four men, Scarlett immediately met Daryl's eyes. The man looked more awake and aware than any of them, which didn't really surprise her. If he was a hunter, than he definitely had the stamina to keep going for long periods of time. His crossbow was thrown over his back and a shotgun remained fastened to his hands.
A moment of silent recognition passed between them before Scarlett chucked the bottle at him, which he managed to catch with one hand. At the sudden movement, Glenn immediately tensed and raised his gun, a startled sound coming from his mouth.
A tired laugh escaped from everyone at the poor guy. While he looked exhausted, Glenn was definitely on edge just like the rest of them.
"Afraid of water bottles too now?" T-Dog teased, to which Glenn let out an exasperated groan.
"You ever been hit with a water bottle? It hurts."
"And you have?"
"You'd be surprised at how angry people got when you got their order wrong."
With a soft smile on her face, Scarlett fell into place beside Rick. He looked just as amused as she felt, but remained quiet as he watched the interaction. A few moments later and the former sheriff looked over at her.
"The swelling's gone down," he began, referring to her injured cheek. "It'll be bruised like hell in a few days though."
"I'm counting on at least three or four different shades to appear." She replied and he gave her a halfhearted smile.
"You seem to be handling it well."
"Well, I've seen a lot worse."
Her chest immediately tensed up. It wasn't exactly a lie, considering she'd seen every sort of injury over the past few years. Rick was giving her a concerned look, which only made her stomach turn in on itself even more. She'd tell him eventually, but now was not the time. Waiting for the man to question her further, it thankfully never came when another voice broke the silence.
"Scar."
She blinked once, then twice. It wasn't a statement, but call of some sort, and it had come from off to her right. Rick appeared a bit surprised as well as they both looked over at Daryl. Once she made eye contact with him, he tossed the water bottle back to her.
That's when Scarlett realized it. Another nickname. Her mouth opened slightly in mild surprise, but the jump in her chest startled her even more. It didn't bother her; she preferred it a lot better than "Raggedy Ann", but she was shocked that he'd actually used her name. Well, a part of it at least. It was a normal nickname, no teasing or wit behind it. What was surprising her the most was the fact that Daryl, one of the most closed of members of the group, had given her an actual nickname.
In a way, he kind of reminded her of herself, in terms of being closed off to most. While Daryl was more on the extreme end of the spectrum, she couldn't help but feel that a part of her was right there with him.
Staring down at the water bottle in her hands, Scarlett gave it a quick shake.
"Wow, you actually left me some." She surmised, looking up from the water bottle to the younger Dixon.
"I ain't some greedy asshole, you know." He replied.
"I'm not so sure about the 'asshole' part…" Daryl's eyes narrowed at her humorous remark, earning a quiet yip of laughter from Glenn. As her own smile melted away, she gave him a more sincere response. "But I can tell you're working on it. Can't exactly fault you for that."
A moment of silence passed, leaving the comment up in the air for contemplation. She didn't exactly know how to proceed with the conversation, but opted out with the silence instead.
Apparently even silence wasn't on her side that day.
One of the most disturbing, blood curdling screams Scarlett had ever heard broke through the air and stillness, echoing between the trees around them. She sent Rick an alarmed look, which his dread-ridden eyes returned right back. Multiple voices could be heard yelling off in the distance, the occasional scream and gunshot joining the frenzy of sounds. Scarlett knew immediately that it was coming from the camp, and quickly sprinted off in the direction of the shrieks. She could hear the crunching footsteps of the others by her sides, following her farther into the hills with what felt like lead in their chests. Spotting one of the cars and ducking around it, Scarlett broke through into the clearing.
She'd been worried that it had been Merle who was tearing up the camp, but what was in his place made her wish that it had been the older Dixon instead. At least he was able to partake in some sort of discussion, but there were no words to be shared with the wave of walkers that was currently attacking the camp.
The sound of a rifle firing brought her out of her shock, turning to see Rick shooting in the direction of some walkers. More shots rang out from the rifles their group had brought, making Scarlett pull out her own gun and begin firing at the walkers. Her seven rounds disappeared into the skulls of seven walkers at an alarming rate, switching out the Colt for her bat and going to work.
She couldn't even spare a look to see who was still alive as she swung into the heads of several walkers. Her adrenaline was rushing through her rapidly, causing the blood in her ears to block out all the noise. Spotting one of the few remaining walkers shuffling towards her, Scarlett tightened her grip on Stella and swung as hard as she could. She saw the blood spray up her bat and felt it splash across her face.
When her hearing had come back and her heart rate had settled down, Scarlett could only hear the sound of soft sobs coming from a few people in the camp. She was afraid to turn her gaze away from the tree line, dreading what she would see as a result of this attack. An arm grabbed her shoulder, startling her terribly as her gaze found Glenn's dread ridden eyes. He was huffing horribly, the fear evident as his eyes kept shifting about, looking at all the destruction around them.
She'd been right to fear turning around, for her eyes fell on the sight that everyone had been silently watching. Someone was lying on the ground, neck completely covered in blood and barely alive. When she saw that the one sobbing over the person was Andrea, Scarlett immediately knew who the dying soul was.
Amy's blonde hair was matted with the blood that was leaking out of a huge bite on her neck. Every time she would try and breathe, more of the substance would ooze out onto the ground. Andrea was rubbing a soothing thumb against the younger sister's cheek, but it stopped as soon as Amy's eyes shut, one last breath leaving her body.
"No. Amy. Oh no."
Scarlett wanted to look away, she needed to, but she found her eyes fixed on the body and Andrea's sobbing form. She felt her head tilt to the side, as if her brain was trying to understand what was happening. It was like something out of a nightmare, and the fact that Scarlett couldn't do anything to save the younger girl was even worse. That was the thing about the bite. Even if she stopped all the bleeding and got them back on track, they would end up being a walker regardless.
The other thing was that she could only look at the situation selfishly, as if she were looking at herself in Andrea's place and Victoria in Amy's. And it hurt, not knowing where her sister was, but at least there was a slim chance that she was alive. In Andrea's situation, she just watched her sister die in her arms.
Watching in dread as Andrea began shaking Amy's body and sobbing even worse than before, Scarlett felt her mouth go dry. She felt sick, the chills shaking her body horribly. Somehow managing to take her gaze away, Scarlett saw Rick standing with Carl and Lori, the young boy crying into his father's shirt while his wife was almost petrified. Shane stood off to the side, staring at the mess that used to be their camp. Morales held his family tight while T-Dog and Jacqui looked as if they were going to vomit. Daryl appeared exasperated and depressed at the same time, which Scarlett found to be an odd mixture of emotions, but then again, who was she to judge someone about their emotions when hers were all over the place.
She glanced over at Glenn, who was still beside her, and watched as his face scrunched up in an attempt not to cry. Scarlett didn't know the people here like Glenn and the others did, but if she felt horrific from watching all of this, she couldn't imagine what the others were going through. Being a paramedic, one might think that Scarlett ought to be good at comforting others. In a way, she was, being able to show sympathy and support for people from a safe distance, but when it came to people she cared about or had grown fond of, she didn't have a single clue. Without a word, she placed a hand on Glenn's shoulder, which startled him quite badly, but he nonetheless appeared to appreciate the attempt at comfort even when she felt horrible herself.
How long the two of them stood there, Scarlett didn't have a clue. It could have been seconds, minutes, or hours for all she knew. People started moving around slowly, either to go to bed or try and figure why it was worth it to keep on going, knowing that this outcome could be possible at any moment. All she knew for certain was that there was no way in hell she'd be sleeping tonight.
She also knew that they couldn't leave the camp like this, with the dead and former members of their group lying around. It was morbid and heartbreaking at the same time, and for that reason she knew they had to get started.
At least with the walkers, that is. People would need time to mourn their loved ones.
"Scarlett."
Breaking out of her trance and shifting her eyes over to Rick, she knew that he had the same thing in mind. He didn't look pleased by the idea, but it was something that needed to be done whether they liked it or not.
Giving Glenn a quick squeeze on the shoulder, Scarlett made her way over to the former sheriff.
"We should start burning the dead," she suggested to him, only to receive a mortified and appalled look from Lori. Scarlett's face fell even further. "I'm talking about the walkers, not the recently deceased. I'm not that heartless."
She'd let the comment slip without much of a thought, but her filter for words was gone. Enough had happened today to make even the sanest of people want to dig a grave for themselves.
"Bury the dead and burn the walkers?" Rick asked, eyes tired.
"Let people trickle off to bed first. Everyone's gone through enough tonight."
That's what they did. While it didn't look like people would be getting any sleep, they nonetheless returned to their tents to try. Eventually, the only people left were Rick, Scarlett, Shane, T-Dog and Daryl. However, Andrea was still hunched over Amy's lifeless body and would probably be there all night.
"Only take walkers for now," Shane explained to their small group. "We'll bury our dead in the morning and let everyone give their goodbyes."
Morning had come not a moment too soon. Scarlett stood near the giant fire they'd made to burn the walkers, watching as about half of them blackened in the flames. They still had more to go, but she was glad that they'd gotten rid of most of them before people returned to the camp from their tents.
Every person that walked by her had bags under their eyes, the lack of sleep evident in the way they behaved. Scarlett herself hadn't gotten a wink of sleep last night, too busy gathering up the walkers for the fire. At the moment, she was the only one by the fire, the exception being Glenn. Rick had gone off to contact Morgan on the radio while Shane was still gathering up the dead with Morales and Daryl. The three men had begun moving the former group members off to the side in their own little grouping. Andrea was still sitting near Amy's body and Scarlett watched as Lori attempted to speak with the blonde, only to receive no response in return.
After a while, Scarlett moved away from the fire and took a seat by Lori, Carl, Shane, Dale and Carol. No one greeted her and she didn't greet anyone either, silently watching as Rick approached their small grouping as well.
"She still won't move?" Rick asked, only for everyone to shake their heads in response.
"She won't even talk to us," Lori stated tiredly. "She's been there all night. What do we do?"
"We can't just leave Amy like that," Shane concluded. "We need to deal with it. Same as the others."
"She's mourning, of course she's unresponsive," Scarlett sighed, running a hand down her good cheek. "I'm sure Andrea is prepared if Amy turns."
"When she turns." Shane corrected, sending Rick a quick look.
"I'll tell her how it is."
Scarlett let out a huff of air. One needed to be careful when dealing with someone who lost family, especially when they were reacting the way Andrea was. While she was quiet for now, the anger would eventually emerge, either at others or herself.
"Andrea-"
Before Rick could get another word out, Andrea looked up and pointed her pistol right in the man's face. The gun was locked and loaded, meaning the woman wasn't afraid to use it. Scarlett and everyone around her stood up in fear.
"I know how the safety works." Andrea reminded him coldly.
Rick gave her a few small nods and began to back away.
"Alright. Okay, I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
When Rick was far enough back, Andrea put the gun down and turned her undivided attention back to her dead sister. Rick turned back to the rest of them, the worry easy to on his face. Without a sound, Daryl showed up in Scarlett's peripheral view. She hadn't heard him approach at all.
"Y'all can't be serious," he said, pickaxe thrown over his shoulder. "Let that girl hamstring us? The dead girl's a time bomb."
"What do you suggest?" Rick asked, a bit irked by Daryl's tone.
"Take the shot," the younger Dixon stated. "Clean, in the brain from here. Hell, I can hit a turkey between the eyes from this distance."
It was at that point when Scarlett stood up from her spot, unable to even think about what Daryl was suggesting without her chest tightening with dread. She didn't say a word, worried that her fatigue and emotions would get the better of her. With the mood she was in, she knew that things would only turn into an argument.
"Where are you going?" Shane asked, but Scarlett didn't answer as she made her way over to where Glenn and T-Dog were.
The two men were getting ready to throw another walker into the flames, though Glenn's fatigue was getting the better of him. With his grip on the walker slipping, Scarlett gently moved her friend out of the way to take a hold of the walker's legs. Her muscles ached angrily but she managed to toss the walker into the flames with T-Dog.
While T-Dog went to grab another body, Scarlett slowly approached Glenn. Her friend looked shattered from the attack last night, the fatigue that came from their trek back to camp not helping the situation either. Like an empty battery, Glenn was going to be useless if he didn't take time to recharge.
"How're you hanging in there?" She asked softly, peering into his face. He locked eyes with her and remained silent for a moment.
"Not good," he replied halfheartedly. "I mean, nobody's doing good right now…"
"I know. It was a stupid question," Scarlett sighed, looking down at the group before gazing over at the pile of walker bodies that needed to be thrown into the flames. "I feel bad that I never got a chance to really know anyone in the group. Now, with some of them, I never will."
"It's probably better that way. Then it won't hurt so much when they're gone."
Scarlett looked over at Glenn once again, his eyes brimmed with tears that were threatening to fall at any moment. It broke her heart, seeing him so beaten down and destroyed by what happened. It was the natural reaction to something so horrid, but it was difficult to see the pain on his face.
"Can I give you a hug?" She asked him. "I don't give them out often but…"
He didn't appear surprised by the request, either too numb or tired to have a reaction. Though when he nodded his head softly, Scarlett draped her arms over his shoulders and gave him a squeeze. Glenn returned the gesture feebly, which didn't bother her. She was there to give him comfort, not the other way around.
"What are you guys doing?" Glenn spoke up suddenly, Scarlett separating away from her friend to spot Daryl and Morales dragging one of the deceased group members over to their fire. "This is for geeks. Our people go over there."
"What's the difference? They're all infected." Daryl argued, continuing to drag the body over.
Scarlett felt her frown deepen and her eyes narrow.
"Our people go in that row over there," Glenn reiterated, much more defensively than before. "We don't burn them! We bury them. Understand? Our people go in the row over there."
Both Daryl and Morales were shocked by Glenn's outburst, as was Scarlett. She hadn't seen him worked up like that before and by the looks of it, neither had the others.
"You reap what you sow!" Daryl called back as he and Morales dragged the body away.
"You know what? Shut up, man." Morales yelled at him.
"Y'all left my brother for dead," the younger Dixon snapped back. "You had this coming."
Scarlett's hands twitched. He couldn't mean that, couldn't seriously feel that way. A bunch of innocent people had just died, and that's what he had to say? Daryl was just starting to shake himself of that 'asshole' title in her mind, but a whole other set of words were coming to mind now. If anything, she was just sad. Sad that this was how he decided to act. While they'd been in Atlanta, he'd shown her signs that he was truly, deep down, a good human being. She was trying to hold on to that belief now, though it was hanging on by a thread.
Her grip on Stella was turning her knuckles white while her teeth were clenched together to where they might shatter under the pressure. She was trying her hardest to remain calm.
"A walker got him! A walker bit Jim!"
Head snapping and eyes widening, Scarlett watched Jacqui march away from a startled and worried Jim. Everyone in camp had turned their attention to the scene unraveling before them and slowly approached. All Scarlett knew was that things were taking an even deeper plunge into the shit storm.
"I'm okay." Jim managed to say, though the conviction fell short.
"Show it to us." Daryl demanded, pickaxe in hand.
With a quick turn, Jim reached down and picked up the shovel that he'd been using for the majority of the morning. Things were definitely going to get worse.
In a flurry of words and warnings from everyone, T-Dog managed to grab Jim from behind, causing the man to drop the shovel. Daryl moved forward and pulled Jim's shirt up, revealing a bite on his abdomen. It was soaked with blood, quite obviously fresh and received from the night before.
"I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay."
Jim's soft chanting of the words made everyone back away even further than before. A sigh left Scarlett's lips; worry flooding her system as she watched the infected man look around for any sort of help. She was worried for Jim, scared for him even. From the reaction of the people in camp, they didn't look like they wanted to take any chances. While they were correct in being cautious, it was only going to make Jim feel worse.
Placing Stella against the RV, Scarlett slowly approached Jim.
"Holloway." Shane warned, but she put up a hand in a dismissing manner.
Coming to a stop in front of the bitten man, she gazed up at him and gave him a look of sympathy. The man was hesitant and the presence of fear was easy to spot in his eyes.
"Come on, let's sit you by the RV."
Ushering Jim under the shade of the RV, Scarlett made him sit on one of the coolers. His eyes were still fixed on the rest of the group members, with his shoulders tensed and figure stiff. Feeling the gaze of the others on both her and Jim, Scarlett sent the bitten man a kind look before glancing back at the others, who were now standing around in a circle most likely wondering how to proceed.
She gradually approached them.
"I say we put a pickaxe in his head and the dead girl's and be done with it." Daryl suggested, firm on his statement.
"Is that what you'd want if it were you?" Shane spat back in response.
"Yeah, and I'd thank you while you did it."
"I hate to say it. I never thought I would but maybe Daryl's right." Dale muttered, which shocked Scarlett a bit.
"Jim's not a monster, Dale, or some rabid dog." Rick denied the old man's claim.
"I'm not suggesting-"
"He's sick. A sick man," Rick stated harshly, cutting off Dale. "We start down that road, where do we draw the line?"
"The line's pretty clear," Daryl countered. "Zero tolerance for walkers, - or to be."
Scarlett had begun chewing on her thumb in thought. They couldn't do much for Jim at this point except ease his way towards his transformation. From what she understood, either from what she'd seen back at the hospital or afterwards, it took a while before the change happened. She couldn't say how long, considering that she'd never seen the transformation in person before, but she knew they had at least twelve hours, half of which they'd already spent not knowing about the bite.
Unless there was a cure, Jim's fate was already sealed.
"Scarlett, what're you thinking?"
Glancing up to meet Rick's eyes, she couldn't help but frown softly. There was something they could try. She'd heard about it on the radio before the signal crashed and had even discussed it with Morgan and Dwayne.
If the group would be up for it, she didn't know.
"What about the C.D.C?" She suggested, crossing her arms. "While I don't know if we'll be able to get Jim there in time, it's worth a shot going anyways. They might be working on a cure."
"I heard that too," Shane muttered. "Heard a lot of things before the world went to hell."
"What if the C.D.C. is still up and running?" Rick questioned, obviously sharing Scarlett's interest in the facility.
"Man, that is a stretch right there."
"Why? If there's any government left, any structure at all, they'd protect the C.D.C. at all costs, wouldn't they?"
"I think it's our best shot." Scarlett informed the group.
"Shelter, protection-"
"Okay, Rick, you want those things, all right? I do too, okay? Now if they exist, they're at the army base," Shane cut off his best friend. "Fort Benning."
"That's one hundred miles in the opposite direction." Lori pointed out with uncertainty.
"That is right, but it's away from the hot zone," Shane continued. "Now listen to me. If that place is operational, it'll be heavily armed. We'd be safe there."
"The military were on the front lines of this thing," Scarlett countered. "They got overrun. We've all seen that."
"The C.D.C. is our best choice and Jim's only chance." Rick concluded.
Scarlett was glad that Rick was on her side for this decision. For the most part, he always had been, but when it came to difficult and life-threatening decisions like the one they needed to make right now, she was even more relieved.
For the most part, whatever Shane had pointed out about For Bennings, the C.D.C. had it as well. The defense of the building was almost impenetrable and was created to deal with the world's worst diseases, hence the name 'Centre from Disease Control'.
"You go looking for aspiring, do what you need to do," Daryl stated, slowly backing up away from the group and turning to Jim. "Someone needs to have some balls to take care of this damn problem!"
Scarlett was glad that she'd been standing further back from the group and closer to Jim. Once again, she was trying to understand where Daryl was coming from, but she wanted to keep Jim alive for now. While she felt the same in regards to keeping him alive for moral reasons, she wanted to observe as much of the transformation process as she could for future reference. It was a bit selfish on her part, but she didn't care if it would help her save others down the road.
Since she was closest to Jim, Scarlett didn't hesitate to pull her gun out and point it at the younger Dixon, Rick throwing up his own pistol only moments later.
Daryl froze with the axe still hanging over his shoulder, ready to swing into Jim's skull. He slowly lowered the weapon and sent Scarlett an annoyed look.
"We don't kill the living." Rick stated from behind, Shane quickly stepping in front of Jim as well.
"That's funny coming from a man who just pointed a gun at my head." Daryl snipped back.
"We may disagree on some things, not on this," Shane stated firmly. "You put it down."
Scarlett could see Daryl clenching his jaw in annoyance, his gaze shifting from Shane to her. His eyes were questioning and held a challenge to them that seemed to irritate Scarlett even more.
"What do you got to say about all this?" He asked her, the slightest amount of a taunting tone reaching his words.
"You don't want to know. I've been keeping my mouth shut all morning." She replied honestly.
"I asked the question. Tell me."
"I think you've been an asshole all morning," she admitted to him calmly. "I'm trying to see where you're coming from, and I know you're not particularly close with this group, but just because you're not doesn't mean you get to walk around like a douche bag while others are mourning their family and friends. With Jim, we keep him alive. Not just because we don't kill the living, but I need to see how this thing progresses so I can learn about it and possibly save your ass one day. If something bad happens, which it won't, I will take responsibility. If it happens, I give you permission to rip me apart, but until then, please just trust us. At the very least, trust me."
Without breaking eye contact with him, Scarlett lowered her gun, putting the safety back on and slipping it back into the waistband of her pants. It was difficult to read Daryl's expression, his facial features morphing into either irritation or hurt. She was waiting for him to talk back, to insult everyone or her directly, but no words left his mouth. He simply slammed the axe into the ground and walked away.
Watching as the younger Dixon disappeared into the tree line, Scarlett was annoyed that another divide had been placed between him and the group. She was just starting to believe he wasn't that bad of a guy.
Scarlett glanced over at Rick, who appeared just as exasperated as she felt. The former sheriff moved to Jim's side, grabbing the man by the arm and lifting him off the cooler.
"Come with me."
"Where are you taking me?" Jim questioned wearily.
"Somewhere safe."
Silently following the two men into the RV, Scarlett helped Rick with Jim, getting him situated along the cushioned bench near the back of the vehicle. Dale had followed them in, peering from the doorway at the situation at hand.
"Thanks for letting us use the RV." Rick stated, looking back at the older man.
"Yeah. Of course."
"Could one of you go grab my pack? It's sitting somewhere near the coolers." Scarlett requested, watching from the corner of her eyes as the former sheriff nodded and exited the RV.
She was watching Jim closely. The man was already starting to sweat profusely, which she doubted was a result of the stress and heat outside. Small beads of sweat had formed on his forehead, which he quickly wiped away. It was only then that she noticed that she was making the man uncomfortable with the staring. Scarlett sent him an apologetic look.
"Dale, would you happen to have a cloth that you could wet?" She asked, turning her attention away from the sick man.
"I'll go have a look."
"Thank you."
As Dale left the RV, Rick reentered with her bag in hand, carefully placing it on the floor beside her as she gave him a small thank you as well.
"Can I do anything else for you?"
"No, that's enough," Scarlett muttered, deep in thought. "You go be with the rest of the group. I have a feeling Shane's going to have an earful for you, so it would be better to go defuse that bomb before it gets any bigger."
"You don't think leaving the camp was a mistake, do you?" Rick asked, eyeing her carefully.
"No. Who knows how much worse it could have been if we hadn't showed up with the guns."
It was easy to see that Rick was having conflicting regarding their trip back to the city. The last thing he needed was for someone to make him feel worse about something he was already internally debating over, but the sooner he had a talk with Shane, the better.
With a final glance, Rick turned and left her alone in the RV with Jim.
"You're going to analyze me like a science project, aren't you?" The man questioned, the dread in his voice fairly obvious.
"That's not my intention, Jim," she sighed, giving him a soft look. "I want to hear about what you're feeling and try to help you through this. I'll just be gathering information in the process."
"Well, I'd rather spend my final hours with anyone but Dixon at this point. So do what you need to do."
She was thankful for his consent and quickly got to work, pulling out her first aid along with her notes. The first thing she did was clean up his bite, which Jim denied having done, but Scarlett didn't listen and wrapped up the injury regardless. Dale came back with a wet cloth and handed it over to her, which she placed on the infected man's forehead, only for him to let out a sigh of mild relief. Scarlett then proceeded to ask him a few questions regarding what he was feeling. The symptoms were the same as the ones she'd observed back at the hospital, but this time she inquired more about the bite rather than reactions to it. Jim told her that the skin around the bite burned horribly, almost as if needles were being stuck into his skin over and over. Scarlett had also noted that the skin around the bite looked almost grey before she'd bandaged him up.
Every thirty minutes she'd ask him about any new symptoms that had popped up or that he was feeling. Each time he claimed to become more feverish, dizzier, and thirstier than the time before, to which Scarlett jotted down. Sitting on a bench near Jim's makeshift bed, she'd somehow managed to stay awake for the first two hours, the occasional person coming in to check on both her and Jim. However, it was after that where she'd fallen asleep in her seat. For how long, she wasn't exactly sure. She only came to when she heard Jim muttering softly to himself.
"No. No. No. Not this. No."
Without shifting her body, Scarlett gazed up at Jim to see him looking around the RV almost restlessly, his eyes fastening shut and springing open the next. The man was awake, his hands clenching and unclenching as he ran them down his face. He looked even paler than before.
"Jim."
The man looked over at her with a start, eyes wide and mouth agape. He was definitely hallucinating.
"What do you see?" Scarlett asked quietly, leaning forward to grab the bottle of water that Dale had gotten for him roughly an hour ago. Undoing the cap, she carefully brought the water to Jim's mouth and he drank up the liquid quickly. It was only when she placed the water back down that he gave her an answer.
"I'm seeing things." He mumbled, blinking harshly.
"What kinds of things?"
"Dead things."
"Walkers?"
"Yes."
"What are they doing?"
"Growling and snarling at me."
She'd known about the hallucinations before this, but it was good to know what the man was seeing. While she couldn't tell if everyone hallucinated the same things, she was sure that the events of the night before weren't helping his mental state, regardless of the bite itself.
"Fever?"
"Worse."
"Dizziness?"
"Bad."
"Nausea?"
"Not good."
Scarlett put down her notes and picked up the wet cloth from before, pouring what was left of Jim's water onto the rag. Reaching forward, she began dabbing it against the man's face in the hopes of cooling him down. There wasn't much she could do for him at this point except ease the pain a little.
The door of the RV opened, to which Scarlett glanced up to see both Lori and Rick approaching. The couple looked exhausted, both covered in dirt and sweat from being under the gaze of the blaring sun outside.
"How's everything going?" Rick inquired, glancing between the Jim and the ginger.
"Not great." Scarlett replied honestly.
"You need anything?" Lori asked Jim as she leaned against one of the walls.
"Uh…water. Could use more water." The man answered faintly.
"I'll get some."
Without another word, she turned and left the RV. Scarlett moved over so that Rick could join her on the bench. He sent her a quick look as if he were asking if she were okay, and she replied with a nod.
"You save a grave for me?" Jim asked once Rick was seated.
"Nobody wants that." He replied with a sigh.
"It's not about what you want," the infected man stated. "That, uh, that sound you hear, that's God laughing while you make plans."
Scarlett remained quiet and so did Rick for a moment, obviously trying to choose his words carefully.
"What I want, Jim, if-" Rick began, letting out a sigh. "If God allows, is to get you some help."
When it appeared as if Jim had a reply, his thoughts were interrupted by a coughing fit. Scarlett furrowed her eyebrows, quickly picking up the small garbage can by their feet and giving it to Jim. The man spat out either vomit or blood, Scarlett wasn't sure as she quickly grabbed her notes and scribbled down a few words.
"Watch the mangroves," Jim stated as he put the pail down. "Their roots will gouge the whole boat. You know that, right? The both of you?"
Scarlett could feel Rick's eyes glancing at her but decided to ignore his stare.
"Amy is there swimming," Jim continued, looking at them mindlessly. "You'll watch the boat, right? You said you would."
"I'll watch the boat," Rick answered, rubbing at his temple. "Don't worry."
The grip on Scarlett's pen had loosened and had grown weak. She felt sick to the stomach, as if she'd been hit by a car and was left on the street. She supposed that a part of her hoped that there would be a way to help Jim, but the reality was that there was nothing they could do.
And Scarlett hated herself for it.
"We'll leave you to get some rest." Rick stated, standing up from the bench and ushering Scarlett to come with him. Pausing slightly, she began picking up her things and throwing them in her bag. Standing up, she glanced down at Jim.
"If you need anything, don't be afraid to yell for it okay?"
The man gave a weak nod as he closed his tired eyes. Scarlett swallowed harshly before turning and following Rick through the RV. The former sheriff had obviously caught on to her shift in mood, sending her a worried glance but waved him off as they approached the door.
"I guess I'll just add it to the list of habits that I'm breaking whether I like it or not."
Rick and Scarlett came to a stop at the entrance of the RV to spot both Lori and Shane, who appeared to be in the midst of a heated discussion. Scarlett fought back the urge to raise an eyebrow.
"What habits?" Rick asked as they exited the RV.
"I'm just talking about my need for a plan, man," Shane stated, though Scarlett had a hard time believing the man's words. "So what is it? Are we leaving or not? Maybe y'all just want to stay here. We could hang some more tin cans."
"We can't stay here. We both know that." Rick replied immediately.
"I was just telling Shane I think we should trust your gut." Lori spoke up, glancing between the two men and the ginger.
There was a long, uncomfortable pause in conversation that made Scarlett immediately want to go back into the RV and sit with Jim for another three hours. Shane looked silently furious with the way things were turning out.
"Let's go do our sweep." Shane finally said, his tone rather short.
Without a reply, Rick gave a slight nod and went with Shane through the camp and into the tree line. When the two men disappeared from sight, Scarlett immediately turned to look at Lori.
"Is everything okay?" Scarlett asked, eyeing the older woman carefully.
"Not really, but when is anything okay anymore?" She threw back, to which Scarlett sighed.
"Fair enough."
Figuring that she wasn't going to get anything out of Lori, Scarlett let the woman walk off to god-knows where and was left by herself. The urge to get some sleep was incredibly strong, but her mind was restlessly keeping her going for reasons unknown. It was as if she hadn't had time to digest everything that had happened over the past twenty-four hours and her head began to pound furiously.
"Scarlett."
Picking her gaze up from the floor, the redhead spotted Glenn sitting by the campfire looking at her with worry. Rubbing at her eyes, Scarlett slowly approached the small group of people who were sat around the fire pit and placed herself down beside Glenn. Andrea was curled up in a chair fast asleep, and now that Amy was gone everything felt a little duller. Both Scarlett and Jim had heard the gunshot from inside the RV a few hours ago, the two clueing in to what the sound meant. Carol was sat with Sophia and Morales sat with his own family. Daryl was off to the side fiddling with his crossbow, to which Scarlett felt her mood decline even further. Everyone looked empty of emotion and tired beyond belief.
She only came out of her thoughts when she felt something land on the arm of her chair with a thud, startling away from the sound with wide eyes. Glenn had been startled at her sudden movement, but she became move confused than panicked when her eyes fell on the damp cloth that hung from the arm of her chair. With a quick glance up in the direction where it came from, Scarlett raised a confused eyebrow at Daryl.
"Clean yourself up," he deadpanned. "You look like shit."
Scarlett was stunned into silence, not by the insult like everyone else was, but by the action itself. When they'd last spoken hours ago, it hadn't been on the best of terms. She wondered if her words had actually had an effect on him, and perhaps this was his way of trying to make things right.
She couldn't help but laugh, much to everyone's surprise. Maybe she'd lost her mind.
"Thanks, Dixon."
Daryl's Perspective
The younger Dixon had been in a bad mood all day, worse than he usually was. If not finding his brother and having to deal with a hoard of walkers wasn't bad enough, he'd been pissed by the honesty in Scarlett's words the morning after. In reality, he shouldn't have been mad; he'd asked for her opinion and he sure as hell got it. He was almost positive that if anyone else in the camp had spoken that way to him, he would have lost it and attacked them. That's the part that bothered him. That she was somehow different than the others because really, she wasn't, but for some reason she was different. Hell, he'd only known her for a day and already had more respect for her than he would ever admit. Anyone who spent hours with a dying man trying to ease him until his death deserved some respect, even if he did think it was stupid and pointless.
That's what lead him to chuck the cloth her way and blatantly insult her appearance. He figured it came down to the fact that she spoke to him like any other person, regardless of where he came from. He was rude and full of rage, he wasn't ashamed to admit that, but the fact that she would call him out on it and still put up with him was beyond Daryl's understanding.
And then she'd laughed at his insult and thanked him, bypassing it like water to a duck's feathers. Scarlett was full of surprises, and that's why he supposed he enjoyed her company.
He was almost thankful that both Shane and Rick had showed up to take the focus away from himself, since he had not a clue in the world on how to respond to the redheads reaction.
While Daryl didn't really give a shit where the group ended up going, he couldn't deny that he was a little relieved that they had finally decided on a plan of action. All he knew was that he didn't want to stay on the outskirts of the city anymore. What bothered Daryl about the whole thing was how Shane seemed to be okay with going along with Rick's plan when for the longest time he'd be extremely against it. It was easy to see that there was some tension between the two men, and Daryl figured he'd need to keep an eye on that.
After the little meeting with the group, Daryl retreated back to his tent to get a few hours of sleep. Whether he would actually get some rest was beyond him, but he needed to be on his own for a bit at the very least. It wasn't like he despised the people in the group, but they definitely got irritating after a while.
Lying in his tent for a few hours provided little comfort for him, as his thoughts shifted to that of his older brother. Merle was one of the biggest assholes Daryl knew, but the man was still his family and as far as he knew, blood was thicker than water. He wanted to go back to when things were simpler, but then again, things were never simple between the Dixon brothers. The older brother would constantly insult whoever got in their way, whether Daryl fully agreed or not. The two of them had been fending for themselves for as long as they could remember, sticking together no matter what.
As much as he worried about his brother, Daryl couldn't help but feel a bit relieved. Merle was extremely loud and crude, and while the younger Dixon had similar moments, he definitely had a better head on his shoulders than the older did. So for once, he'd had some peace and quiet. He felt bad for thinking that way, considering that Merle had done a lot for him, which the older Dixon constantly reminded Daryl of.
Opening his eyes and sitting up in the tent, Daryl was feeling restless. He didn't enjoy thinking that much about the situation, since there were always conflicting morals going at it inside his mind. While a part of him figured that he should just go off on his own, Daryl could only think of staying. At least for a little while, that is.
Daryl was a bit surprised when he exited the tent to darkness, unaware of how long he'd truly been resting. He figured he might as well go take a look around camp, grab some water while he was there if he could. Hopefully nobody shot at him while he did.
With his crossbow thrown over his shoulder, he ventured towards camp. His tent was probably the furthest from the main area, which only made sense for him. He'd wanted nothing to do with the others, or at least as little interactions as possible with them, but now he wasn't so sure he felt the same way anymore. Watching the rest of the group was always interesting, considering that there was always drama going on.
Finally reaching the camp, Daryl saw that it was pretty much empty and that everyone had gone to bed. There were no fires going or any sound to be heard, which made him breathe out in relief. As little interactions as possible made everything easier, though he couldn't help but wonder why they didn't have someone watching over the camp. However, that's when he spotted someone sitting on top of the RV.
He couldn't tell who it was at first, silently drawing closer to get a better look. The figure was too small to belong to any of the men in the camp; the exception possibly being Glenn but the person wasn't wearing that dumb cap the Asian always wore. Daryl thought for a moment that it was Andrea, but considering that her sister had just turned into a walker, he doubted anyone would let her be on guard duty for the night with the state of mind she was in.
So when he saw the ginger hair, Daryl let out a sigh. Of course it was Scarlett, sitting up there with a rifle, watching over the camp. He was stupid to think it could be anyone else. Gazing up at her carefully, he watched as she appeared to be reading over something. Even in the dark Daryl could tell she was exhausted.
Why he decided to speak to her was beyond him. He could have easily slipped by to go get his water and avoided the whole interaction, but here he was, looking up at her from just beside the RV.
"What are you doing?"
Daryl watched as the woman almost jumped out of her skin, eyes wide and immediately gazing down at him with her rifle in hand. When she finally realized that it was him, he saw the tension leave her body, though she didn't look thrilled with him scaring her. Hair pulled back in its usual ponytail, she finally began breathing again.
"Jesus, Daryl," she hissed at him through the night air. "I could have shot you."
"Do you even know how to fire that thing?" He questioned, referring to the rifle in her hands.
Glancing between him and the gun, Scarlett sighed.
"Yes and no," she replied. "I can fire it, but whether the bullet actually hits it's target is debatable."
Daryl fought the tug of a smile threatening to come to light, but instead let out a scoff in response. Lowering the rifle and placing it beside her with a quiet thud, the redhead gave him a confused look.
"Why are you wandering around in the dark?" Scarlett asked him, furrowing her eyebrows together.
"Was going to get water," he answered simply, eyeing her carefully. "Why're you awake?"
"Because I'm on watch?" She replied, as if the answer was obvious.
"You outta be sleeping."
"Believe me, I've tried."
The defeated tone in her voice surprised Daryl. He'd thought the reason for her lack of sleep was because she was too stubborn to close her eyes and get some rest, but the weary look on the woman's face told a different story completely. Maybe all the death and destruction was finally getting to her. He couldn't exactly blame her for feeling distraught over the events of the past few days.
"And you?"
Daryl blinked slowly, realizing that she had turned her attention back down to him.
"I told you, I got up for water."
"You seem pretty awake for someone who just got up for a water run," she shot back at him, looking away from him to rustle through what Daryl could only assume to be her bag. "Trust me, I know an insomniac when I see one."
He wasn't pleased by the fact that she'd managed to analyze him in such a short amount of time. Impressed, but a little annoyed.
About to turn away and go get more water like his original plan had been all about, the sound of plastic being opened and soft chewing made him stop in his tracks. Daryl turned his attention upwards to the woman once again, watching as she ate away at a granola bar, her eyes now looking downward at whatever she'd been reading before he had arrived. Apparently noticing that he was still standing on the ground watching her, Scarlett's eyes shifted over to his form and stopped chewing mid bite.
"You want one?" She asked, to which he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in surprise. He hadn't missed the slight roll of her eyes at his reaction. "Oh come on, it's just a snack. Plus, I doubt having some food with a little company is worse than whatever is going on in that head of yours that's keeping you awake."
Daryl stared at her in silent awe, though he was positive his face was still screwed up in confusion in regards to her suggestion. Going up on top of that RV and sitting with someone was something the younger Dixon wouldn't have done in a million years. He despised interactions with anyone other than his own brother, which said a lot about his social abilities.
But holy shit, how that small bar looked good. He hadn't really eaten much, considering that most meals involved sitting down with the others, which, again, was something he desperately wanted to avoid at all costs. So he settled for the squirrels he would catch and ate on his own. Daryl couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten something that was actually wrapped in plastic.
In his mind, he figured he'd go up there for the food, but deep down his gut was saying it had something to do with the company that had offered it in the first place.
"…please just trust us. At the very least, trust me."
Carefully climbing up the crumby ladder that lead up to the roof of the RV, Daryl took off his crossbow and sat down a little ways away from Scarlett. She'd watched him silently as he'd climbed up to meet her, a bit of surprise could be found in her eyes. For a moment he wondered if she had been joking about the invitation.
"What?" He demanded, a little harsher than he had intended to.
"Nothing," she replied, reaching back to go into the contents of her bag once again. "I'm just surprised you actually came up. Didn't think you liked company."
"I don't."
"I figured," Scarlett chuckled softly, fishing out another granola bar and tossing it to the younger Dixon brother. "Don't worry, you'll barely know I'm here."
For Daryl, she couldn't have been more wrong, because that was another thing that bothered him about the redhead; she was simply too hard to miss.
The urge to just get Scarlett and Daryl to open up to each other was so strong in this chapter, but alas, bonds do not appear out of thing air.
I hope the chapter turned out okay. Like I mentioned above, it's very late for me right now so I apologize for any grammatical errors on my part.
Once again, I'm so sorry for the lack of updates. I hope you all can forgive me :(
Anyways, take care you guys and I'll see you in the next update,
- GuiltyCalamity