The old house belonged in a story book. The clean white walls and smell of timber, even after so many years, held a warmth that only an old house can have. Generations perhaps of Greene's growing up within it's walls.
As Rose blankly stared at the timber panelling in front of her in the small hallway, Rick made his way to her side, stirring her from her musing.
"It's a nice place this house, isn't it." Rick sighed, looking around at the small hallway and joining living space. "Need some help to get to bed?"
"What's with you always trying to get me into bed Rick?" Rose smirked.
Blushing slightly from her innuendo, Rick looked at her and continued. "I think Daryl is fine for the night, and you could use some rest."
Rose looked over her shoulder to the closed bedroom door. Carol had been in there half an hour ago and said he was okay when she came back out, telling Rose it was okay for her to go. "I've been sleeping all day Rick, I'm fine to stay a bit longer."
"Okay, well I'm just down the hall in Carl's room for a bit longer if you need me." Rick said, patting her on the arm and walking away.
Now, where was I? Oh yeah, the walls.
"You comin' in here or what?" Daryl's low grumble from the other side of the door made a hard lump rise in Rose's throat. She thought he was asleep.
"No." She replied quietly.
"Get your ass in here." Daryl growled quietly.
Rose closed her eyes and rest her head back against the wall behind her. Biting at her lip, Rose was dreading having to talk to him again. She preferred to just sit outside his room and quietly keep a vigil. Her fingertips found the cane hooked over the arm of the wooden chair as she sighed. Biting the bullet, Rose got unsteadily to her feet and reached for the door handle.
Turning the old brass and cracking open the door slowly, Rose looked into the dim lamp-lit room. Her eyes dilating and seeing the bandaged up form of Daryl for the first time on the bed, laying on his back with the blankets pulled high. "You need something?" She asked quietly.
Daryl didn't answer. Rose pushed the door open and hopped inside, cane hooked over her arm, she used the door and bed for support.
Daryl briefly looked her up and down as she moved into the room to his bedside, before shifting his gaze back to the roof above him. Rose turned and sat on the edge of his bed, struggling to make it further into the room on her bad knee.
Rose sat there, heart swollen and choking her in her throat. "I'm sorry." She said quietly, not even sure if her cracked whisper was loud enough for him to hear.
He didn't reply or make any notion that he had heard her, so Rose cleared her throat and tried again. "I'm…"
"I heard you the first time." He grumbled. A terse silence hung between them, stuffing the air with confusion and tension. "You ain't got nothin' to be sorry for." Daryl finally said.
"This is my fault." Rose said flatly, looking at him over her shoulder. Not directly at Daryl, more just the bed space between him and herself.
"It ain't your damn fault." He snapped, "It was that nag."
"You know what I mean." Rose said, dismissing his comment about the horse for the bullshit it was. "I shouldn't have… pushed you."
That hot silence crept back between them again, making quiet tears flit into Rose's eyes despite her not actually crying.
Daryl shifted slightly on the bed, cradling his wounded side as he moved a little closer to Rose. "Ya didn't say anything I didn't need to hear. You were right." He grumbled.
"Was I?" Rose's words filled with self-doubt. "You got hurt Daryl, badly, …looking for a lost cause."
"She ain't a lost cause." He snapped at her again, angrily. "I was right behind her."
Rose nodded slowly, looking away back to the door. Her nod changed into a subtle shake.
"Daryl." She choked a little on her hard words. "You are… a grown man, armed to the teeth and… you've probably taken down a hundred of those walkers by now. More." She sighed and turned back to see him. "And look what happened to you."
He opened his mouth to say something, but found that he didn't even have any words.
"She was twelve years old." Rose sniffed, facing the wall again. "And nothing of her. What chance did she have out there alone."
"Stop talkin' 'bout her like she's dead." Daryl growled, low and angry. "Sophia is gonna be jus' fine. She's prob'ly holed up in some house further down the creek, just waitin' for us."
Rose kept her back to Daryl as she quickly wiped away the stray tears that had broken free of her eyes and wet her face. Daryl watched her shoulders as they lifted and dropped slowly, deep heaving breaths moving her whole frame.
She didn't leave. Rose wasn't going anywhere. Just sitting on the side of his bed, breathing and waiting. Daryl didn't understand why she hadn't left yet, but was grateful that she didn't. Her blonde tangle was reigned into a thick braid that laced down her spine. The faded dark green t-shirt she wore hung loosely from her body and spilled over her jeans to the bed. The minutes of her shuddering silence, felt like hours of quiet personal blame.
Daryl hesitantly reached out to touch the back of her t-shirt, just as she stood up, not noticing his hand. Pulling it quickly back to his side, he watched as Rose juggled the cane and hopped over to the door.
"Do you need anything?" She asked quietly, watching her own hand on the door.
Daryl rolled away from her, facing the back wall of the small room. "No." His dismissive reply.
Rose nodded softly to herself, unsure if leaving was what she really wanted to do. She turned the cold brass door handle and spilled the hallway light into the bedroom. Awkwardly, Rose managed to leave the small room without another word to the sullen man on the bed.
She pulled the door closed behind her and took in a shuddering gasp, her lungs desperate for air as she had been unknowingly holding her breath. Wiping her face on her short sleeve at her shoulder, Rose sat back down into her chair at the door, in the hall.
Closing her eyes she tried to blank her mind and go back to thinking about walls and timber and families, instead of the racking and terrible pain in her stomach caused by the thoughts of a little girl, lost and taken from this world.
…...
The foam of the van mattress was losing it's puff. Not much was keeping Elliot actually off the floor in the back of the Econoline. Stretched back under the constellation of various stickers and naked pin-up girl cut outs (which he had insisted stay when they inherited the van back in Charlotte), Elliot could feel a pair of eyes on him again through the open side doors.
Sighing, he rolled to his side, facing the camp beyond the doors, and leant up on his elbow. Elliot had a wisp of a humour-less grin on his mouth as he challenged the owner of the eyes to speak their mind or get off his case.
Andrea had been looking up at him every two minutes for the past hour, from her seat in the dark at the picnic table. A heated glare and touch of blame-casting, Andrea was doing her best to make Elliot uncomfortable, challenging him in her own way to dare speak to her.
"What?" Elliot asked, loud enough for anyone else around to prick up their ears in their tents and listen in to the next heated drama in camp.
Andrea made a small noise, an exaggerated sound of derision, and looked away.
"Come on." Elliot challenged. "Got somethin' to say, say it. Don't just sit there stink-eyeing me all night. I get enough of that from Rose."
Glaring back at him, Andrea got to her feet and looked around over her shoulders to see if anyone was around. She stomped over to the van and stood at the doors, hands on her hips, Elliot looking up at her from his reclined position on the bedding.
"It's your fault I shot Daryl." She hissed angrily, sounding more like a deflating tyre than the hard-ass act she was putting on. "You encouraged me. You handed me the gun."
"Ahh… Okay." Elliot said laying back on the mattress, hands interlaced behind his head. Andrea forced herself to keep her fierce stare on Elliot's face, not his biceps. "You need someone to blame …other than yourself." He briefly tensed his muscles and smirked as her eyes flitted to the front of his khaki wife beater.
"Stop it." She scowled.
Elliot sighed. "Okay, go ahead. Lay it on me." He watched her as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Come on. I'm a big boy, I can take it."
Andrea pouted and shook her head slowly. Her blue eyes burning to convey the lie on her tongue, ignoring the message in her head.
It wasn't his fault. It was yours.
Folding her arms across her chest, she turned and walked towards the RV.
"That all you got?" Elliot mumbled quietly as Andrea left, ignoring him.
He waited until he could hear Andrea stomping up the stairs of the RV and closed his eyes. Sighing, he rolled out of bed and swung his legs out of the van. He needed to take a piss. Walking off towards the trees behind camp, he could see Andrea through the window of the RV, talking with Carol and Dale.
Elliot spat to the side as he walked, ducking in behind the old oaks and having a slash.
Seeing Glenn approach from the barn with a blanket and flashlight in hand, Elliot drew back into the shadows.
Glenn was tense and worked up about something.
"Grrahhhh!" Elliot roared as he sprung from the darkness and grabbed on to Glenn's arm, imitating a walker.
"Aghh! GET OFF ME!" Glenn shrieked, falling to the ground and swinging the heavy flashlight.
Elliot grabbed onto Glenn's swinging arm and eased him to the ground, laughing his ass off.
"What's the matter with you!?" Glenn yelled, realising his mistake.
""Get off me", really?" Elliot mimicked. "That's what you say to a walker?"
"I knew it was you, you asshole." Glenn said, getting slowly back up to his feet.
"Bullshit." Elliot smirked. "I saw your face. You shit your pants." He leaned back against the tree behind him, giving Glenn room to dust himself off.
"Whatever." Glenn shook his head and picked up the blanket and flashlight from the ground beside him.
"So what was on your mind?" Elliot asked. "Cause you looked pretty worked up about somethin' comin' over this way."
"What? Nothing." Glenn frowned, looking away from Elliot.
"Premature Ejaculation?" Elliot asked, smirking at the blanket bundled up under Glenn's arm.
"No!" Glenn hissed, looking around over his shoulder. "Nothing… I mean… with who?" He flustered.
"Alright, whatever." Elliot waved dismissively at Glenn. "Be a gentleman then." He stood up and walked back towards camp beside Glenn.
Approaching Glenn's tent, Elliot leaned in a little closer and whispered to Glenn. "One of these days I'm gonna need details about you and Farm Girl."
"What are you talking about?" Glenn asked, very unconvincingly.
"Yeah yeah, whatever man." Elliot slapped him on the back, cheesiest grin you have ever seen plastered across his face. "Sweet dreams Glenn." He chuckled.
Elliot swaggered off towards his van, leaving Glenn flustered and more uncomfortable than he had been since his run in in the barn earlier.
…...
"Okay. Now it is definitely time." Rick's quiet voice woke Rose from her sleep. "You're about to fall out of your chair."
He was kneeled in front of Rose, hands on her shoulders. Rose had slumped right down in the hard wooden chair, her body seeking the comfort in her sleep she denied herself in consciousness. She had slipped away somewhere between her thoughts of Sophia and Carol, Daryl, and Hershel's plan to chase them off his land as soon as possible.
Sitting up and rolling her stiff neck, seeking her familiar pop and crunch in the top of her spine, Rose tried to bring a small smile to her lips for Rick's friendly wake up call, but found she couldn't. She lifted her hands up to Rick's arms at her shoulders and wrapped her fingers around his wrists.
Rick could see the despondency in her features. Her face was like a marbled stone statue, cold but beautiful, and desperately sad.
"Hey, come on now." Rick said, slowly stroking her shoulder with his thumbs and giving a soft squeeze. "Is this about Daryl? Cause he's going to be fine." Rick briefly looked at the bedroom door past her shoulder, wondering what exactly was between Rose and Daryl.
Rose coughed out a small laugh. "I guess it's just everything." She replied quietly. "When you slow down it gives the demons a chance to catch up to you."
He looked her in the eyes for a brief moment, glancing away before she could see too much in him. Rose swallowed back the shitty feelings in the back of her throat and inhaled a deep breath. "Look at me, putting all this shit on you when you have so much else on your plate." She dropped her hands from Rick's arms and he pulled back from her, crouching back on one knee.
"It's okay." Rick said, dropping his eyes to the ground at her feet. "How's the knee?" He asked trying to turn the conversation away from himself.
"It's shitty." Rose bluntly replied. "But fuck that… how are you?" She tried to pick up his eyes again, ducking down to catch his stare.
"Me? I'm fine." He said, flat and unconvincingly.
"Bullshit." She reached forward and picked up his hand off his knee. "Rick… Your son was shot, in front of you. Shane's still giving you a hard time. I don't know why," She stated when he finally looked up at her. "but I have eyes, I can see the tension between you. And, not to mention, you are wearing the entire weight of the group's collective safety on your shoulders, including Sophia." Her voice broke a little, saying the little girls name, but she hoped Rick didn't notice. She sighed before continuing. "And I think you already know about what I was going to tell you."
"What's that?" Rick asked, blinking slowly and tilting his head.
"Hershel wants us to go, doesn't he?" She said quietly.
Rick nodded slowly, raising his free hand to his mouth and wiping dryly across his grimaced lips. "Yeah." He eventually answered. He dropped his hand from his face to her uninjured knee. "But you don't have to worry about it. I'm working on it with him. We'll be okay."
"We'll be okay either way Rick." She tried to sound reassuring. "We haven't been together very long, but we're strong. And you're a good leader. Things will work out, you'll see." Rose put everything she could behind her words, not wanting Rick to hear the doubt in her own thoughts.
"Okay." He nodded slowly. "But it is time for you to go to bed. Not that I'm trying to get you into it or anything." He smirked at her and stood up.
"Yeah yeah, okay." She put her hands up, asking for a hand to her feet. "Problem is… I don't have a bed. Elliot is in the van tonight. I heard him after dinner telling Dale he was taking a night off watch."
"Ahh." Rick said, pulling her up and looping her arm over his shoulder. "Well, Daryl isn't using his tent tonight. I think he wouldn't mind if you slept in there, while he is in here." He put his arm around her waist and helped her limp forward to the front door.
Holding her close again he could smell her hair and feel her warmth against his side, and all he could think was he didn't want to let her down. He wanted to keep her, his family and everyone safe.