*I really don't have anything to say here. We already got a bit of insight into what's going on in her mind. Sam and her have a one on one here and you get to see just how she views herself a little more. Well, I hope you enjoy it. There's lot of action in here. Reviews are always welcomed!*
Rick, Daryl, Glenn, T-Dog, and Dean are going back into Atlanta to get Merle and the bag of guns Rick apparently dropped. Sam and I offer to go too, but Shane says he needs people here to defend the camp. I don't like it one fucking bit. Dean shouldn't be out there without one of us watching his back. The others say their goodbyes to the group and Dean turns to us with his usual grin in place, "Now don't have too much fun without me."
"You mean don't kill anybody while you're gone," I retort and he pulls me in tight. "Be careful," I whisper against his chest, squeezing his torso.
He pulls away, our green eyes meeting, "Always." My smile is forced as he turns to Sam, hugging him fiercely. No words need to be exchanged between the brothers. The hug says everything. When he releases him, he looks to the both of us, "Watch each other's back." We nod, watching reluctantly as he heads towards the cube van to wait. I hate this. We are a team. I shouldn't just have Sam to cover my back, Dean needs to be there too. Just like we need to be with him covering his out there in the city.
Daryl's standing beside the van, brooding as he waits. "I'll be back," I mention to Sam before walking towards the hunter. "So you're not going to say goodbye or anything?" He fumbles over his words as he tries to come up with an excuse. "I mean if you die out there than whom am I supposed to hunt with? More importantly who am I gonna flirt with?"
His hard pressed lips form a thin smile at my questions, "Only a Dixon can kill a Dixon." My lips curl at the edges weakly. You could die any second. The thought makes my chest tight and I pull Daryl into a hug. He flinches, going stock still, arms limp at his sides, before awkwardly wrapping them around my waist. Somehow Daryl managed to wiggle his way into my heart. Maybe it's the fact that despite our reluctance to talk about our pasts we still understand what the two of us have been through. Either way my stomach is twisted in knots thinking of him being out there without me to cover his back, just like Dean.
I stand on my tiptoes, whispering in his ear, "You better come back to me." He looks down, those gorgeous blue eyes burning into mine. On impulse I reach up, pressing a quick kiss on his rough lips. Electricity runs through me sending the butterflies a flight in my stomach.
Daryl stares wide-eyed as I give him a shy smile, turning on my heels to walk away before I do something more stupid. You can't get close to people. You know what happens. He'll get hurt. My feet move two steps before a calloused hand grips my bicep spinning me around. I slam into a hard body, gasping as my hands fall over a muscled chest. Daryl's lips crash into mine, his hands cradling my face as he keeps us locked together. The world melts away. Every thought disappears leaving my mind blank. My body sparks with fire, every nerve ending exploding into a burning flame as his tongue grazes my bottom lip. My lips part and our tongues slide together, exploring every angle and depth. I slide my hands up his chest around his neck as his start down towards my waist.
A loud throat clear wakes the two of us from our little world, driving us apart. My senses come rushing back and I look down, blood rushing to my cheeks when I realize everyone in camp sees us. "Would you like to postpone this trip a bit? Give you lovebirds some-" I punch Dean hard in the shoulder, shutting him up. "Ow!" he yelps with a smile on his face.
"Okay, let's go!" Rick calls out as Glenn, Dean, T-Dog, and he get into the van. I look back at Daryl, a wide smirk settled on his lips.
"Should have done that instead of all that damn flirting," he says smugly.
"Come back in one piece and see what all that flirting earned you," I reply, giving a quick wink. His eyes glint in excitement before he turns and jumps into the back of the van, rolling the back door closed. I stay rooted to my spot, watching the van drive away until it escapes my view. The fluttering in my gut turns to a ten pound brick of anxiety. It's going to be a long few hours.
"You really know how to make them swoon for you," Sam's teasing voice says as he comes up next to me watching the empty road. I smile in response. Sure, flaunt my boobs and sway my ass the right way and I can get any guy, but this is different. Kissing Daryl it just felt...right. Like two puzzle pieces fitting together. Trust me I know everybody says this, but how else do you describe it? I've only known Daryl for a couple of weeks, but it's like I've known him my whole life. It's how I felt when I first met Sam and Dean. After knowing John for all those years, I already felt like a little sister to the two. Daryl wears a look that I've seen one to many times. A look that says, 'I've been through shit.' He understands without saying a word, without me having to explain.
"Aria," a tender voice calls dragging me from the depths of my mind. "Would you like to help us with laundry?" Carol kindly asks, shifting a large blue basket in her arms. Jacqui, Lori, Andrea, and Amy are all carrying one too. I hate laundry.
"Yeah, I'll be right there," I call back. Got to help out right?
Sam pats me on the back, "I'll see you later." I nod and head over to the women, picking up a basket filled with all kinds of clothing. Carol and Lori load the back of Carol's station wagon while Ed stands by the driver's door, chewing on a toothpick. Once it's loaded he drives us down to the water's edge. It only takes a couple of minutes to get down there, but I have to focus very hard on keeping my mouth shut. I hate Ed. I despise the man as much as I despise the monsters I kill. My gaze focuses on Carol in the front seat, her hunched shoulders and timid eyes forced down. First week in camp, I found Carol's arms bruised. The woman shook it off and made some piss poor excuse to cover it up, but I knew exactly what happened. I would have put the asshole in his place too if Sam hadn't been right there to pull me into the woods before I beat the shit out of her husband. Men don't hit women and women don't hit men.
Ed pulls the car to a stop and we all pile out, grabbing the supplies and baskets as we head to the edge of the water. Shane and Carl are off to the side in between the large boulders playing in the water, their laughter and shouts echoing off the quarry walls. "I'm beginning to question the division of labor here," Jacqui mumbles watching the two. A small snort escapes me, but no one notices. These women are stuck doing housewife duties because that's exactly what they are; housewives. They can't defend themselves and therefore get stuck doing the only other useful task. Now I'm a woman, and trust me I agree that it wouldn't hurt the men to do some of the cooking and cleaning, but unless one of these ladies can defend this camp better than one of the men, I would just leave it up to them. Hell, I am a better fighter than all these guys combined and you don't hear me bitching about their lack of help.
The six of us get settled, dividing the clothes equally. For the most part it's quiet. There are a few comments thrown around about the odor of the clothes or the intense sun as it beat down on our backs, otherwise it's silent, so much so that I jump when Carol speaks up. "I miss my Maytag," she mentions glumly, and like that the women go on one by one mentioning the things they miss from the old world.
"I miss my coffee maker. Mmm mmm mmm," Jacqui comments, her eyes falling shut as she reminisces about the strong caffeine smell.
"I miss texting," Amy says.
Lori's voice longingly adds, "I miss my bed."
Silence hits for a moment and then Andrea pipes, "I miss my vibrator."
A chorus of shocked gasp run through us before we start laughing. "Me too," Carol whispers. We fall into another fit that's got us laughing harder and louder.
"What's so funny here, ladies?" Ed's southern voice questions as he comes down to us. All the fun dries up as his feet crunch against the gravel. My skin crawls as he speaks. I watch him come closer, hovering behind a nervous Carol.
"Nothing, Ed, just enjoying some girl talk," Andrea replies nonchalantly. I never take my eyes off the man as he snaps back,
"You ladies should quit with all the bullshit talking and do your work." Please give me a reason to beat the living shit out of this guy.
"Well, Ed, you could lift a finger and help us out instead of sitting on your lazy ass all day," Andrea shoots back.
"Well I ain't a bitch am I?" he snarls grabbing Carol by the arm, hoisting her up and away from us. We all jump up, pulling Carol from Ed. I place myself right by Carol trying to wedge my body between her and her husband's rage. Fire burns in his eyes. He's seconds from exploding meaning one thing, he's going to hit Carol.
Not on my watch. His arm cocks back for a slap and before he swings I step in front of Carol's sobbing form. My right cheek stings, lighting my nerves on fire as the sound of the smack echoes off the quarry walls. A metallic tinge teases my tongue and I swipe it over my spit lip. Everything stops. There's no shouting or crying just the impending silence.
It lasts seconds before Ed is on the ground, me on top, my fists drilling into his face. The skin of my knuckles splits from the force, making me beat the man harder. I feel his cheekbone fracture and his nose crumple as my fists pound one after the other. Carol screams and the other woman shout, begging me to stop, but I ignore them. This guy is never hurting his wife or daughter again. He's dangerous to all women and he needs to be taught a lesson. Blood spews from Ed's shattered nose and busted lip, pleading for me to stop but it falls on deaf ears. I drag my arm back, ready to drive my fist back into his face when two sets of arms rip me away. One grabs my arms while the other set wraps around my waist yanking me off Ed. "No, I'm not finished with that piece of shit!" I yell as they drag me away.
"Aria, stop," Sam's voice bellows from behind me as he struggles to hold my fighting body. I'm not done. That fucker needs to be unconscious and I can still hear that prick moaning.
Shane steps in my line of vision, "If you don't calm down then I'm going to have to restrain you," his eyes shining with truth as his hand rests on the metal cuffs at his side.
I glare at him with irritation, stopping my struggle against Sam. Shane's face is neutral as he nods, going to help carry a battered Ed back to camp. Carol follows Shane, crying and telling Ed how sorry she is. Lori follows, wrapping an arm around the sobbing woman. The other women stare at me with mixed emotions, some of shock, others scared. I understand, I mean I did just nearly kill a man. Anybody would be a little wary.
The adrenaline is still hot in my veins as the women finish the laundry and head back to camp. I don't join them, instead picking a large boulder to rest on to calm myself. Sam doesn't leave my side. He sits beside me in silence as I inspect the damage on my knuckles. The skin is an angry red, scraped raw with pale shades of purple beginning to develop. "Thought Dean said not to have too much fun without him," he comments staring out into the clear blue water. His knees are up, arms resting a top them while his hands hang between his legs. I remain silent continuing to assess the damage done to me. My split lip is already scabbing and a slight tenderness pulses through my cheek. It's going to fucking bruise.
"I won't apologize to anyone. Not Shane, Carol, Sophia, and especially not Ed," I comment, voice stern.
"Never said you had too, A. I never even said you that you were wrong," his voice is soft as he speaks, his puppy dog eyes full of trust, "You were defending Carol and yourself. I don't see a reason to apologize." I nod my head in understanding, staring out into the water. Sometimes I just need to hear that other people agree with me.
I twist my hands together as we sit silently. My thoughts run down the dark path, dredging up things I try to forget. "Sam?"
"Yeah," I drop my head, playing with the laces of my boots. "I've changed," I say, my voice worn as I peer up at him. Sam's face contorts in confusion,
"No you haven't. You're still Aria Redford, the fierce, bold, and short stump who kicks anybody's ass when they deserve it," he smiles gently, trying to lighten the mood and boost my morale. But he is wrong. I am different. I am more violent and less tolerating. There's something inside me that's trying to escape. It's dark and it scares me.
"No Sam, I'm not," I deny, "Not after last year. I've changed and it's not for the better." I look into his hazel eyes, "Admit it. You've seen it. What happened with Oriax...I'm different. I'm reckless and ten times more violent than I've ever been." Sam sees the fear in my eyes, wrapping his arms around me, holding me.
"Aria, where's all this coming from?" I shrug my shoulders, pulling out of is embrace. My arms wrap around my knees, pulling them tight to my chest. "Does any of this have to do with your nightmares?" I stare at the walls of the quarry, silent. "I'm not stupid, A. You wake Dean and I up every night. You're dreaming about them, right?" My gaze snaps to him, wide-eyed. His eyes fall, hands twisting, "You say their names in your sleep." A heavy sigh falls from me.
I don't want to talk about my sleepless nights. I didn't even realize the two of them knew about the nightmares. "Look, I get it. You don't want to talk about it, and I'm not going to make you. It's just…whatever you think, you're not any different from the first day I met you. I'll always look out for you, always. I'm not going to let you do something you'll regret," his voice is soothing like a nighttime lullaby. Despite the anxiety that runs through my chest, I smile and lean into him. Always would be our little forever, our infinite promise because one way or another we will find our way back to each other, and stand beside one another when it feels like the world is crashing.
It's dark out, the stars illuminating the sky in a way that you can only see in the middle of nowhere. The group of survivors gather around the campfire, eating fried fish thanks to Andrea and Amy's fishing trip earlier today. Rick and the others have yet to return and I'm growing anxious. Something went wrong. "They're both fine, A. It takes a lot more than a dead corpse to kill Dean. They probably ran into car problems," Sam reassures, but I hear his own worry. The group talks quietly about little things until a long silence forms. It's comfortable but at the same time it isn't.
"Okay, I got to ask man, what's up with the watch?" Morales questions the thoughtful old man.
"What about it?" Dale asks with a smile, unconsciously running his hand over the article.
"I see you every day at the same time winding that thing, why?"
"To keep time of course," he chuckles.
"Why? It doesn't matter anymore," Amy says. Dale grows quiet, staring into the flames of the fire for a moment.
"I give you the mausoleum of all hope and desire, which will fit your individual needs no better than it did mine or my father's before me, I give it to you not that you may remember time, but that you may forget it for a moment now and then and not spend all of your breath trying to conquer it." The group is silent, thinking about Dale's words, trying to find their own meaning.
"William Faulkner," Sam states with a content smile.
Dale beams like a proud grandfather, "Yes it is." I nudge Sam's shoulder, smirking. The guy's a book of knowledge.
"You two are weird," Amy comments as she stands.
"Where are you going?" Andrea asks almost in a panic.
"Bathroom, geez, can anyone take a piss in private?" The group snickers at her comment falling back into light conversation. I rest my head on Sam's shoulder, feeling sleepiness overcome me as the soft voices carry on. The fire bathes me in warmth, and my eyes slip close as Sam rests a hand on my shoulder. A shrill scream breaks the night sky. Sam shoots up, his arm automatically pushing me behind him as we search for the threat. The entire camp is under siege by walkers. I grab my gun from my waistband, clicking the safety off, cocking the hammer back, and unloading on any and every walker that comes too close to Sam and me.
People run in panic falling prey to the walker's bites. Sophia and Carl's screams catch my attention. The two are being chased by a solo walker. "Sam!" I call out pointing to the two children. He nods, giving me permission to go as he watches my back. I take off at a full sprint, my knife and gun out. I take out two of the undead with my gun before my clip ends. Motherfucker. I drop the gun and stab the walker that's chasing the kids. "Carl! Sophia! Go!" The kids run to their parents, tears streaming down their faces.
I check for Sam, but don't see his large figure. Please be safe. The walkers keep coming as everybody makes their way towards the RV. I plunge my knife into the head of every walker that I can face, blood spraying all over my body as I pick them off. My knife plummets into a walker's glazed over eye, squelching as it hits the brain. Decayed hands grip both my arms from behind. A surprised gasp flies from me as I drop my knife while the monster forcefully yanks me towards its decaying mouth. This is it. My eyes screw shut, tensing for the pain. The silent glide of fletchings whip through the air. An arrow sinks into the walker's head releasing me as it falls to the ground. My head whips towards the direction of the fired weapon and I catch Dean sprinting towards me, Daryl standing behind him. His face is a mask as he gives a quick nod before turning away.
"Are you hurt?" Dean starts immediately, his green eyes aflame with distress. He grabs me roughly, running his hands up and down my arms searching for bites or scratches. "Did you get bit?" his usual gruffness gone and total fear taking its place.
"I'm fine," I manage trying to reassure him, but he just keeps searching. "Dean!" I bark grabbing his muscular arms and stopping their movements, "I am fine. No bites or scratches." His light emerald eyes bore into mine, swimming in fear. He clutches me to him and I wrap my arms around his waist, rubbing small circles into his lower back, trying to reassure him in some way other than words. His tense body starts to relax as he rests his chin on my head. A relieved sigh escapes me as I realize that Dean and Daryl are both alive.
He untangles his arms from around me, looking around hurriedly, "Where's Sam?" I glance around, panic setting in. Don't be dead, don't be dead. "Sammy!" Dean calls, "Sam!" Dean's fingers dig into my shoulder in the silence.
"I'm here!" Sam comes out from behind the RV covered in blood.
"Oh, thank god," Dean mumbles meeting his brother halfway as he pulls Sam to him, gripping him tight.
They break apart and I grab Sam just as fiercely, "Don't ever do that again."
His arms tighten in response, "I thought..."
"Shh, I'm okay shorty."
I suck in a deep breath, pushing down the lump in my throat, "Shut up, gigantor."