"GLENN, LOOK OUT!"
But it was too late. Rick could see the silver weapon coming down before he had time to stop it. All he could do was watch as it slashed through the air, plummeting into Glenn's collar.
"What the hell happened?"
Andrea and I had made it back to Cellblock C with the food supplies. After parting ways with the leader, Daryl and Glenn, we had strict instructions to go directly back to the Cellblock and warn the others about what was happening. Rick didn't say it out loud, but he knew the prisoners were still a threat; despite the fact that they deserved a second chance, it still didn't mean that I trusted them anymore than the others. And I could tell that Rick felt the same.
Now we were in the centre of Cellblock C, surrounded by the rest of the group. I looked to Maggie, her brows furrowed and thin fingers gripping tight to her tiny waist. "Where are the others?" She continued. Her voice clipped.
Andrea sighed deeply, glancing in my direction before turning her attention to everyone. "We found survivors."
The others reacted, as I would have expected, Maggie's stance softened at the mention of others in the prison. Surprisingly, she appeared concerned not only for the men, but also for these new people. It reminded me of the day I had first met Maggie Greene, the sincerity shone through her forest-green eyes as it had all those days ago. I almost smiled at the thought.
"Survivors?" The short-haired woman named Carol stepped forward. We hadn't really talked in the past two weeks. She was a quiet type, always kept to herself and minded her own business. Her daughter, Sophia, was sweet. She reminded me of Paige with her curious mind and touch of innocence. It was always a pity to see children grow up in a world filled with such horrors, but I was glad she had made it this far. It proved the little Carol look-alike was a survivor. Some weren't so lucky.
"Yeah," I answered. "Prisoners."
"Prisoners?" Dale moved around Maggie's still stature. "How many of them?"
Andrea shared a grievous look with the old man. "Four," she spoke evenly, unwilling to show the others her fears. "We found them holed up in the prison's mess hall, surviving on what was left of the prison food. Rick cut a deal with them," she paused. "If they gave us half of their food we'd help them clear out a Cellblock. That's where Rick and the others are now."
"Since when did we decide on allowing prisoners living next to us?" Lori Grimes appeared from the shadows of the concrete wall, moving forward with all the confidence in the world. Beside me, I felt Andrea tense.
"We didn't get to decide," the blonde mumbled. "Rick decided for us."
Of course they didn't get to decide, but I had made sure to voice my opinions. I still didn't know whether it had been the right decision, though I was glad it was out there. Rick was right. We needed to see what the prisoners were like, despite the fact that they deserved a second chance. With that knowledge alone we would know to be cautious around them, and I knew that there was one of them already, I did not trust.
The women glared at each other.
Lori had her arms folded now, a callous smirk fastened to her face. She was inches away from the blonde, who stared back evenly, unchanging in her firm stance. I'd witnessed Andrea in her prime before; she was a legend among our peers in college, always right and never afraid to enter an argument, even if she was wrong. Although glimpses of her appeared, I still couldn't deny that the ferocity usually associated with the woman, had somewhat diffused. She wasn't the same Andrea Wright that I had come to know and love, but I doubted she was going to let 'Lori Grimes' push her into a corner.
"So what do we do now?" A kind-faced woman named Patricia, murmured from the side of the group. She was another I rarely spoke to, often loitering within in her cell. Her voice was hesitant and wary of the heated rivals at the centre of the room. I watched the pair closely myself, waiting for someone to snap, but when they continued to glare, I knew it would be up to me to inform the others.
"Rick wants this place locked down, nobody in or out." I paused, looking to Andrea for some help but she was still in the middle of whatever it was she and Lori was doing. "He still wants guards in the towers. Two if we can manage it." My eyes glanced towards T-Dog at the back of the group. He nodded in return at my silent question and turned sharply on his heel.
"Well, I guess I'll take the other tower," Hershel drawled, a small smile appearing. Maggie moved to disagree, but the old man was insistent. "It's about time I stretch these old legs."
"Are you sure about this daddy?" The Greene daughter was by his side in an instant, a frisson of fear no doubt coursing through her body. I couldn't deny feeling the same way as I looked over the old man. He was nimble in his aging stature, and even though he was quite capable with a weapon, he was also slower at some things.
"Perhaps someone else should do it," I tried not to sound too harsh, but I also didn't want to sound pitying. The last thing Hershel would want was people pitying him. And sure enough The Doc turned sharply on his heel and fixed me with a very certain look, one I imagined he had given Maggie and his other daughter Beth, quite a few times.
"I can manage well enough on my own, thank you for the concern sweet cheeks." The old man nodded once and swiftly paced from the room.
Everyone watched as the two men made their leave, Hershel mumbling something to the short-haired woman named Carol, she nodded in return. I wondered how long it had been since the doc had ventured beyond the concrete confines of the cellblock; and judging by the paleness of his skin I knew it had been a while. It had been a hard time for everyone to even get used to the idea of having freedom of space, let alone knowing what to do with it. Maybe letting the Doc go wasn't such a bad idea after all.
"What about my dad?" Carl Grimes grunted, calling everyone's attention suddenly.
I paused, registering the boy who had stepped forward than. He surprised me with his malevolence, probably the only kid I had ever met who didn't depend on adults to keep him alive. He was short, shorter than me, and his shaggy hair trailed from beneath a brown sheriff's hat. I remembered meeting him when I had first arrived; a shiver had run down my spine then as it did now. This kid was dangerous, no matter where his allegiance lay, it was clear that he wouldn't hesitate to shoot me if I ever crossed the line. And I knew I wasn't the only one who thought that.
"What about him?" I asked, flippantly, in a hope to dismiss the conversation immediately. This was obviously not the response he had wanted, as a heated glare slowly spread across his taut face.
"Are we going to help them?"
The blonde broke away from her glaring contest with Lori and frowned at the boy. "Your dad wanted everyone to stay put, Carl."
"And you're an expert on my dad, all of a sudden?" The boy growled. "I wasn't talking to you, so shut the hell up!"
"Hey!" Maggie gripped the boy's shoulder tightly. "Don't speak to her like that." She urged, though there was a note of sympathy in her tone. "I know it's scary leaving them with four strangers, but your dad wanted us to stay here okay. He wants us safe."
"We should help them," the boy pulled his shoulder from Maggie's tight grasp. "They're out there with four strangers, prisoners. They could be in danger as we speak."
Lori finally stepped forward to console her son, but Carl was adamant, darting away from her outstretched hand and towards the prison's exit.
"CARL!" She wailed. "CARL STOP!"
"No mom," the aforementioned teen turned on his heel to face the woman. "I'm going to find them, and I'm going to make sure that they're okay."
A blonde figure appeared out of nowhere and pulled at the boy's sleeve. But it wasn't Andrea. It was a girl. Sophia. "Carl," she spoke evenly, her face a picture of calm, but there was something about her stance. Although she was only a tiny thing, I didn't doubt the girl could hold her own.
Carl frowned at the blonde figure, fingers clasped tightly in the fabric of his shirt. "Let go of me Sophie," he spoke in a softer tone than before, almost a complete contrast to his earlier gruffness. I had seen the pair only in brief moments at meal times or when I happened across them. From my observations, they seemed close. And it was clear now, just how true that was.
"No," she said, a little firmer now. "I'm not letting you get yourself killed. You can wait here like Andrea and Emma said."
"Sophie," the boy tried to reason with her, but she shook her head, still not releasing her strong hold of him. The adults in the room watched helplessly.
"If you go, you'll only be endangering the others," she glanced towards her mother, beside Dale. The older man looked on, his stance firm.
"Listen to her Carl," an emotional Lori stepped forward. "Please, just wait for your father."
Silence.
Everyone watched and waited in anticipation for the boy to step away from the cell's entrance. He regarded each one of us, glaring when he looked back to his mother. She smiled, reaching her fingers out towards him, a hopeful gleam in her eye. But there was something odd about the way he stood. Something was definitely off. His shirt was still clasped firmly in Sophia's tiny hand, she looked to him earnestly, a mixture of fear, anger, love and urge beneath her bright green eyes. Carl turned away from his mother and stared at his young friend for a long while. There was no denying the slight softening of his brows, or the way he poured into her eyes, but there was also no denying the slight tension in his shoulders.
Fuck.
I was already too late. Carl abruptly tore Sophia's hand from his shirt and darted through the cellblock's entrance and into the darkened corridor. He was definitely fast. Son of a bitch, I muttered, clasping my weapon tighter.
Lori was the first to react.
Her body propelled forward, lunging into the space her son had stood in only moments ago. Fortunately, Dale was able to capture her in time. "LET ME GO!" She sobbed. "THAT'S MY SON. THAT'S MY SON OUT THERE. HE'S IN TROUBLE. HE NEEDS ME. I HAVE TO HELP HIM. GET OFF! GET OFF!"
The dark-haired woman continued to struggle in Dale's arms, and tears streaked her face. I barely caught the shocked and helpless emotions wash over Sophia's pretty features before they were instantly replaced with anger and something else. The whole situation was still a shock; one I didn't know how to get out of. I turned to the blonde beside me looking for some recompense and found her scowling at Lori's quivering figure. Oh great. I knew that look.
She was pissed.
"And what exactly, do you expect to do in your condition?" The blonde snapped. It wasn't a matter of trying to win one over Lori; I could see Andrea's reasons. The dark-haired woman was almost five months pregnant. She was hardly in a place to run through darkened halls, searching for a troubled teen with hundreds of corpses loitering about. It was more likely that she'd hurt herself, or worse, get killed. But by the look of sudden darkness that transformed her worried expression, Lori had taken Andrea's comment as an insult, and now she was facing the woman with all her pent-up rage.
"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Lori snarled, shrugging out of Dale's hold. All in the room held their breath at the inevitable showdown. It was something we had all been anticipating. "Don't stand there and contradict me, you good for nothing piece of trash." Andrea narrowed her gaze, but made no move to interrupt the woman, no one did. Maggie was too surprised by Lori's statement to even manage a response, Dale had gone white as a sheet, Patricia was nowhere to be seen and Carol was quiet, eyes wide as she clutched her daughter close. "Don't tell me what I can and can't do. That's my son out there, and I'm going to bring him back."
My hands gripped the wooden axe tight.
"Don't talk to her like that," I scowled, moving forward. The blonde placed a hand on my elbow and shook her head. She knew as well as I did it was stupid to be fighting now, but I didn't want to let the woman get away with it. Her woe is me pity-party had to stop now. "She's right," I continued, my voice crisp. "You're not going to be able to do a hell of a lot in your condition lady, you'll only end up getting yourself hurt, or worse, killed. There's all kinds of danger out there, and a pregnant woman like you, isn't going to be able to handle it."
Lori glared. "I can handle myself."
"And no one is doubting that," the Greene daughter cut in, she was standing between Lori and Andrea now, a deep frown etched into her beautiful features. I wondered if it had been her intention all along. "Lori, this is not the time or the place to argue about who is more capable. Your son is out there, and besides the threat of walkers, Rick and them are dealing with four potential threats. Let's concentrate on getting him safe and then we can go back to ripping each other's throats out."
Everyone remaining in the room was silent. Dale did not move, or breath for that matter. I couldn't see where Patricia was hiding, but I knew she was still there. I doubted anyone wanted to miss this showdown. Across from me, I noticed Carol tense, as Andrea pulled away and started towards the caged door.
"She's right," the blonde grunted. "We're wasting time." And with that she disappeared into the darkness. I waited only a beat before pushing past the startled stature of Dale and hurrying to catch up with her. I could hear the faint voices of the others behind me; Maggie was trying to bring everyone to order, sealing the door shut behind us.
Andrea was up ahead, her blonde hair sticking out amidst the darkness of the corridors. She didn't turn as I approached, but that didn't mean she was happy about my coming with her. Instead she kept quiet, offering a nod by way of greeting, and together we ventured into the hallways once more.
We followed the route mapped out by the arrows Glenn had painted. I tried not to think of how close we came to getting bitten, more than once, whilst down here. The last thing we needed was to think about that, we had to find Carl.
Stupid boy.
I didn't really know much about him. He had only talked to me once throughout my stay at the prison, and that had been to introduce himself. I wasn't in the habit of talking to little kids since Paige had died. I had actually made it a rule of mine to stay as far away from them as possible. Sooner of later, they died. But for some reason, I doubted Carl Grimes would. Sure he was an idiot when he wanted to be, a little rough around the edges, but he was strong and fearless. Something you needed to be in a world filled with zombies. If I had of been his age, I doubted I would have survived this long. Carl was fierce and moody, but he was a survivor. And at the end of the day, no one could take that away from him.
The blonde slowed as we neared the end of the hallway. She motioned for me to stop and I crouched low beside her. Before I could ask what the delay was, I heard it, the sound of footsteps. My eyes widened and turned, ready to sprint in the opposite direction, but Andrea's strong hands were at my shoulder, pulling me to a stop. I wanted to yell at her for being stupid, we couldn't take on a herd of corpses alone, we didn't have any ammo and we didn't have the numbers. But movement from around the bend made me pause.
Well shit.
"Andrea, Emma?" It was the leader. And he looked pissed. "What the hell are you two doing out here?" His flashlight shone over our faces and I brought my hand up to shield my eyes from its brightness. The blonde hesitated for a moment before Rick dropped his light and I blinked until my eyes adjusted. The first thing I noticed was blood.
"Holy shit," I breathed. "What happened?"
Glenn was half standing, half-leaning on the arrow man, an open wound exposed at his shoulder, though it thankfully didn't look like a bite mark–I couldn't be sure from the angle. My eyes met Daryl's briefly, trying to figure out what was going on, but he merely stared back; his customary frown in place.
"We ran into some trouble with the prisoners," the leader growled, his frustration clear. I turned my attention to him. "Thomas attacked me." I gasped at the casualness of his tone, looking to Daryl who continued staring back. But beneath his blue eyes I could see the wrath he was only barely containing. He had been right all along. "We tried to subdue him," the leader continued. "But that fucker, Andrew, got the jump on Glenn. Almost killed him."
The Asian boy smirked at that point, wheezing out his reply. "Yeah, but Daryl sure showed him." The arrow man merely nodded and I felt a swell of admiration at the simplicity of his actions.
"What happened with the others?" Andrea cut in, moving forward.
"They're locked in cell block B. Thomas got away. Ran straight into a herd of walkers. I'm willing to bet anything that he's their meal right about now." I didn't like the dangerous spark to Rick's tone, but decided against voicing my opinions. It was my mouth that had gotten us into this mess to begin with. The leader's eyes raked over the blonde beside me. "So why are you two out here, anyway?"
In an instant our mission to find his troubled teen came back to mind and I hesitated for only a moment. "It's Carl," I breathed. "We told everyone what had happened and he ran out. He wanted to find you."
"He wouldn't listen," Andrea added. "I tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen. I'm sorry Rick."
The leaders frown transformed into a look of complete shock and horror. He shook his head once, glancing towards the arrow man. "Take Glenn back to Hershel, make sure everyone is alright. Hold down the fort until I get back." The arrow man nodded once and quickly stalked forward, nudging my shoulder.
"What about you?" The blonde frowned. "Are you going after him?"
Rick tore his gaze from Daryl's retreating figure and scowled at the blonde. I didn't know what was behind the look, but I could tell that he was frustrated and upset by something. Andrea shuffled slightly.
"I'll go alone," he grunted. "You two get back to the Cellblock. Lock it down."
The leader turned sharply on his heel and stalked away from us without another word. I stared at the spot he had been standing in only a moment ago, my head running through what had just happened. Beside me, Andrea huffed and then turned to leave, much in the same fashion as Rick had just departed. It seemed everyone was having a bad day.
I trailed after the blonde quietly, my weapon still in hand and flashlight in the other. Andrea had her weapon holstered at her belt. She obviously didn't feel the need to defend herself, and I fought the swirl of annoyance that rushed through me. Bitchy Morgan smiled at me from behind her newspaper, knowing I was only moments away from bursting. Daryl wasn't the only person who had ignored me for two weeks, and it was about time we aired out our business.
Before she could reach for the caged door and walk into the chaos beyond, I grabbed her elbow and pulled her into an adjacent hall, hidden in the darkness.
"Ow," she moaned. "Emma, what the fuck, let go of me." I snapped my hand back and pushed her up against the wall. The blonde's blue eyes were wide with surprise. I leant my weapon up against the side of the wall and folded my arms tight. Bitchy Morgan set her newspaper down and straightened, I now had her full attention.
"No," I snarled. "We're going to do this now."
"Do what, now?" The blonde grunted. "What the hell are you talking about?"
It was a defence tactic, something she employed when she didn't want to talk about a specific topic. She knew exactly what I was implying; there was no doubt about it. I narrowed my eyes, and moved closer.
"Don't give me that bullshit Andy. You know why I'm doing this," I paused, taking a deep breath before fixing her with my most heavy of glares. "Now I don't want some cookie-cutter bullshit. I want the truth, the whole truth. Starting from the top. Now tell me," I paused. "What's going on with you and Rick?"
The blonde scowled, her hair covering half of her face. She turned away from me with a slight huff and folded her arms. I didn't care how long it took; I was going to get some answers. This had gone on long enough.
"I don't know what you think is going on–"
"–That's exactly it Andy. I don't know what's going on." My voice raised several octaves and I fought hard to control it, glancing about to make sure we had no new company, dead or alive. "Because you haven't told me anything since we got here and I'm sick of it. This isn't the Andrea that I know."
"Yeah well, things change. You said it yourself, remember?"
I couldn't believe it.
Andrea shrugged carelessly and narrowed her eyes as if she hadn't a care in the world. Bitchy Morgan silently unravelled her boxing gloves, it seemed the blonde was ready for a fight. Well, so was I. "Things haven't changed Andrea. You want to believe they have, but they haven't. You're still my best friend, a sister to me, and you know that. So why don't you cut the bullshit and tell me how you really feel." I could see right through her no-nonsense look. She was pretending like nothing affected her.
"Emma you don't understand," she ran her fingers through her hair. "It's…. complicated."
I moved forward. "No it isn't," my voice was barely a whisper. Andrea tensed in anticipation. "Just tell me something, anything. We never kept anything from each other, so why is it different now?"
"It's not that easy," she sighed, exasperated. "Emma you don't–"
"–Just tell me!" I urged, a little louder than I had intended. My voice echoed throughout the small space, bouncing off the walls. "Andy, please just tell me what's going on."
She pressed against the wall, her shoulders slumped and eyes wide, almost as if she were afraid to answer me. In the back of my mind I registered these small changes, so different from the Andy that I knew. She appeared almost, defeated. After a quiet breath, I pulled away, but not to let her think the conversation was over, but more to give her room to breathe. Her body visibly relaxed and the shaking in her hands–that I had only just noticed–stopped. My heart broke to see her this way, broken and untrusting. But I couldn't back down now. This needed to happen. I couldn't have the only person I trusted more than myself, keeping secrets from me. That wasn't going to happen.
My arms folded and I waited, waited for her to make the first move. She stared back in the first instance, still showing a more vulnerable side than I had ever seen. It was scary to think that she could break down at any moment. I watched patiently, waiting, urging her to continue with wide, dark eyes.
After what felt like an eternity, the blonde looked to the floor, sagging against the concrete wall behind her. She spoke in barely a whisper. "I love him."
The words lingered between us for a long while. I showed no hint of surprise or aptitude towards the statement; in truth it wasn't all that shocking. I had known something was going on between the pair for a while now, anyone would be a fool not to think that, but it was in the air now. She had admitted it. Now, we could move forward.
"And?" I raised both brows.
The blonde narrowed her eyes at this, incredulous. "What else is there to say?" She grunted. "I'm in love with a married man." Her tone was what puzzled me. It did not match her eyes. Although she agreed that her feeling were foolish and ignorant, her eyes told a different story. Even now I could see the way they stared out into the distance, almost as if she were thinking of him.
She really did love him.
My eyes locked with hers. "And how does he feel about you?" I could tell my question threw her. She was a tough woman when she wanted to be, but she was also very expressive when she wasn't being careful. The shock was clear.
"I…. I…" She struggled, her hands shaking again. "I don't know," her tone was softer now, eyes distant for a moment before glancing anxiously towards me, as if looking for some form of solace. When I merely continued to stare, the blonde let out a calming breath and held my gaze. "It's complicated," she paused, trying to find the right words. After a long silence, her gaze took on a harsher focus. "He hasn't really told me how he feels, I mean he has," she sighed. "I know that he loves me. I'm not an idiot. It's just…It's…"
"–Complicated," I finished for her. Bright blue eyes squinted at me from beneath long lashes, she was barely managing to hold back tears, and I could see it–a rarity for the blonde. This hadn't been the first time she had thought about her situation. And I knew what the problem was. "He has Carl and Lori, I get it." She nodded, leaning back against the concrete wall with a sigh.
"Does that make me a bad person?" Her voice trembled. "It's stupid for me to be in love with him I know, but I can't help it. Every time I see him, I just get this ridiculous feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I know it sounds stupid," a weary smile appeared as she trained her eyes on me. "But I've never felt this way about someone before."
I just get this ridiculous feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I didn't know why it made me pause, but it did. I frowned at the thought and looked to the ground, eyes distant. Perhaps the idea sounded so ridiculous coming from Andrea, a known rebel against these sorts of things, or maybe it was because I hadn't experienced the foreign sentiment before. Wait. No. That was a lie. I had felt something to that extent. There was no denying it, because I had felt it around him.
My mind quickly turned from blue-eyed, rednecks and focused back on Andrea once more. "It doesn't make you bad," I blurted, much to the blonde's surprise. She frowned at my seemingly, random outburst and I swiftly hid the crimson flush spreading across my cheeks, beneath a mane of brown hair. "Just because you love him it doesn't make you a bad person," I brushed off my wayward thoughts. This was so not the time to be distracted. Andrea was finally opening up and I didn't want her to stop trusting me now. "It makes you human." I paused, studying her closely. "Nobody can help the way that they feel. You aren't intentionally hurting Lori or Carl. You just can't help the way that you feel about Rick. And anyway, the world's different now. I don't think the same rules apply anymore."
The blonde eyed me closely for a moment, her eyes studying me and I knew she was trying to decide whether I was telling the truth. I stood motionless, face free of uncertainty. It was the truth. She wasn't a bad person. After a long pause she sighed heavily and leant back against the concrete wall. "But what am I supposed to do Em? Lori hates me, even though I haven't actually done anything wrong, she still hates me." The fight in cellblock C was proof of that. "And for fuck's sake, this should be the last thing on my mind right now. We're living in the middle of a fucking walker apocalypse, and all I can think about is a married man and whether he loves me or not." She cried out, exasperated. "What the fuck is wrong with me?" She chuckled humourlessly, tears seeping from tired eyes.
"Nothing is wrong with you Andy," a small smile appeared at the corner of my lips and I moved to lean against the wall beside her. "It's actually quite refreshing, talking about ordinary things rather than worrying over this fucked up world we live in." The blonde smiled weakly, but did not respond right away. I could already see her closing up again. "Hey," I smirked reassuringly, my two hands reaching forward to squeeze her shoulders. "If it's any consolation, I think you did the right thing back there with Lori. She was way out of line." Andrea nodded more to dismiss the compliment altogether rather than acknowledge the fact that she shouldn't feel guilty. It was surprising to say the least, considering Andrea had been known in college to never care what others thought of her.
"I'm glad we're talking again," she surprised me with the sincerity behind her voice. "I know I've been pushing you away, but I just... I had so much…." The blonde trailed off, biting her bottom lip. "You know I thought that coming back with him, and the others... I thought it would be for the best. And when you said that you wanted to come with me, I just…. Thought it was right." My brows furrowed at her minor confession. I didn't know what this meant, but I could tell that Andrea was on the verge of revealing her biggest worries to me, something entirely different from being here with Rick. "But ever since we came here I've just been…. Lost." Her eyes were distant, studying the concrete wall opposite us. She looked to have aged ten years in the space of a moment. "I don't know what to do Em. On one hand I'm glad we're safe and that I've reunited with everyone, but I can't help but think that we made a mistake by coming here. I just don't think there's a place here for me anymore."
She turned to me then, all manner of awkwardness and tension dropping from her shoulders. This was someone new facing me now; eyes wide and her hands were red fists at her sides. I regarded the blonde's words thoughtfully.
It was true, Andy had definitely gone through a lot in recent days. She had changed dramatically from the cool, confident woman I knew her to be, and although she was good at keeping face, I knew that at any moment she would blow. It was only a matter of time.
"Andy," I began slowly, making sure she understood the seriousness of my next words. "If you want to leave," I paused. "We can."
Silence.
We both regarded each other for a long while, Andrea staring deep into my eyes, trying to find any trace of a lie. But she wouldn't find one. Although I had begun to grow comfortable with the prison group, Maggie and Hershel in particular, we had both known that a time would come where we would have to leave. My brother was still out there somewhere, and even if other aspects of the woman had changed, her promises hadn't. She would go with me to the far corners of the Earth if I asked her.
"I thought you wanted to stay," the blonde began, moving forward. "You said we should come here. You said it was the right thing to–"
My head was already shaking. "It was the right thing to do Andy." I narrowed my eyes. "I know you promised to help me look for Charlie, but we were in way over our heads and you know it. We needed to lay low for a few days and get our heads screwed straight before setting out on that kind of journey. Plus, I don't think Rick was going to let you not come back with him." Andrea huffed out a breath and sagged against the wall, staring once more into the distance, though I could see that she was still listening by the slight incline of her head in my direction. "Andy you know better than anyone what I would do for you, and I know that you'd do the same. So if this is something you want, something you need," I turned to her then, all traces of casualness gone. "Just say the word and we'll leave."
I didn't have time to process Andrea's wide eyes before a figure appeared around the corner. It was Daryl.
Well shit.
"You two gon' join us an'time soon?" He grumbled, crossbow in hand wearing his familiar harsh frown. For a moment I panicked, afraid he had heard what Andrea and I were discussing. I turned away from him, squashing the familiar feelings whirling in the pit of my stomach. I didn't want him to see the look on my face. I wasn't the blonde, hiding my emotions took great effort and around Daryl, they were uncontrollable. Andrea gasped slightly, but managed to reign in her emotions, facing Daryl fully.
"We were just coming in now," she glanced in my direction and nodded once, to show her understanding of my words. Without another word the blonde pushed past Daryl and made her way into the surrounding darkness.
To say the situation was awkward would have been an understatement; I could feel his eyes on me and could only imagine the heated glare he was conveying. But I couldn't let him see me; if I did he would know that I was trying to hide something. I didn't know what it was, but something about the arrow man was disarming. Nothing could ever be sacred between us.
Slowly, I turned, my eyes to the floor. "We should head back," I muttered, making a move to pass him just as abruptly as Andrea had moments before. A strong hand reached forward and pulled me to a stop. My head bowed, still not meeting his gaze, but his proximity was almost too much. I could feel the heat he exuded from his touch alone.
It began at the crook of my elbow where he held me tightly but also gently at the same time. The heat travelled from his touch up the side of my right arm, across the expanse of my chest, pooling at my heart and exploding throughout my entire body. Why did I feel like this? Why did Daryl do this to me? Every time we touched I felt like something was taking over me.
The arrow man lifted my chin, much in the same way he had before, but this time there was no softness to his features. Instead he was scowling at me. "Got somethin' ya wanna tell me?" The gruffness in his voice was intimidating to say the least, but I tried my best not to show him how much it affected me.
"No," I stared back. Daryl's eyes narrowed further. This definitely wasn't the answer he had wanted, I could tell by the way he stepped even closer, eyes piercing me with their intensity and I couldn't help but feel daunted by his closeness. "Is there something else you need?" I tried for casual, but could tell that Daryl wasn't fooled in the slightest. Rather than argue like I half expected of the man, he turned away and motioned for me to go ahead of him.
We walked in silence back to the cellblock, Daryl followed behind, his footsteps echoing off the sides of the wall. I couldn't shake the thoughts flowing through my mind. Andrea and I had finally sorted through everything and I was glad for it. But now there was another problem.
Andrea wanted to leave.
I hadn't thought about what that would mean until now. Of course I would do anything for Andrea, and I knew she'd want to search for Charlie, but I hadn't anticipated it would be so soon. Bitchy Morgan studied me over her tall glass of Fortnum Claret. What exactly am I worrying about? This was what I wanted, to look for Charlie and have Andrea by my side. So why did I feel like this?
You know why. Bitchy Morgan snarled.
I squeezed my eyes shut, reaching for the cell's door and shook my head to be rid of images of piercing blue eyes and crossbow swinging rednecks. That was difficult however when I felt his strong hand at the small of my back helping me into the cellblock. My head turned slightly and I couldn't help but lean into his touch.
It was crazy.
I barely knew the man. We were both still getting used to one another, and yet I couldn't deny that every time I felt even the briefest of his touches it sent my whole world crumbling to the ground. He had something over me, something that made my body act of its own accord; it was almost daunting to say the least.
Daryl pulled his hand back as we stood motionless in the doorway's entrance to Cellblock C. He gazed down at me with his typical frown, blue eyes locking me in place. His whole body was tense as we stood, just staring. My heart was beating rapidly now and for some reason I didn't want to have to worry about what was going on around us, I wanted to stay there in this moment forever. Slowly, I felt Daryl weave his hand through my hair and he brought my head closer. For a moment I tensed, thinking he would kiss me, and decided then that I wouldn't mind if he did. This was what I had been waiting for. All these weeks and days spent away from him left me frustrated and confused. We both wanted this. We both wanted to be around each other. We were drawn to each other. Despite everything that had happened between us and around us, Daryl and I were connected. And I only realised now, how much I wanted him.
I closed my eyes, savouring the touch of warmth at my neck where his fingers connected with delicate flesh. I drew in one anxious breath, inhaling his sweet and Earthy scent. With as much courage as I could muster, I forgot about the rest of the world and focused only on one thing, Daryl. Right now, the arrow man was all that mattered. My lips perked in eager anticipation, waiting to feel the swell of sensations that would surely come. He leaned closer. So close.
But a kiss did not come.
Instead, Daryl's lips brushed my ear, his hot breath tickling the back of my neck. His fingers tightened. "I know about your brother." The gruffness of his voice startled me awake and instantly found blue eyes piercing through me.
Charlie. He knew about Charlie.
Fuck.
Before I could fathom a reply, the arrow man stormed into the room, pushing past me with a dismissive shake of his head. Holy shit. He was angry, and he had every right to be. I had lied to him. I had lied to them all about Charlie. My mind spun with the millions of scenarios I imagined would unfold, but somehow I felt the arrow man wouldn't say anything. Daryl may be considered some things; but a snitch was not one of them. Of course that didn't mean everything would be okay. If anything it made matters worse.
Everything was so messed up.
Carl was missing and Rick was out looking for him. Lori had just declared nuclear war on Andrea. Glenn was hurt which only meant that Maggie would be in shatters right now, as would everyone else in the group. Andrea wanted to leave. Daryl felt betrayed. And I didn't know whether he still trusted me.
Bitchy Morgan sipped the last of her red wine and placed her glass, noisily at the edge of her mahogany table. She glared. There's bigger shit for you to worry about right now, than wallowing in your own personal troubles. Pull it together girl. I nodded, to no one in particular and entered the cellblock after Daryl. Whatever this was that was going on between the arrow man and I, could wait.
There were bigger problems.
Shit.
The walkers were coming from every angle, swarming him. The boy ran down the darkened corridor at full speed. He had to keep moving, he had to find him, and he had to find his dad. Carl Grimes turned down the next hallway and came face to face with a set of double doors. Without even thinking, Carl sprinted towards the doors and yanked them open. The sounds of growling walkers neared and the boy quickly shut the doors once more, checking his surroundings.
He had found the infirmary.
A large smirk graced his lips as the boy circled the room, still holding his gun firmly in hand. There wasn't that much left, save the few scattered mattresses and ruined medical equipment. Regardless of the minimal hope the room provided, Carl searched through each cabinet and set of drawers. If he had learned anything since the apocalypse first began, it was to always cease every opportunity, no matter how small it may seem. "Now," he mumbled to no one in particular. "Let's see what we can–"
"AH!"
The sound of a muffled grunt was heard behind the set of double doors. Carl paused mid-stride, whirling on his heel to face the source of the sound. Dad. The Grimes boy immediately went to work, dislodging the metal pipe he had used to lock the door in place. Without thinking he hurled the doors open and was welcomed to the sight of a figure fending off, three walkers. Carl jumped into action, using the metal pipe in his hand to kill the first decomposing body in his sights. As the creature fell so too did the others and Carl turned to the lone figure, lingering in the shadows.
"Dad?" He called hesitantly. His weapon lowered and he smirked when the man stepped out of the darkness. Carl's smile dropped however, upon realising it wasn't his father at all. It was someone else.
"Wrong guy, kid." The stranger drawled.
Maggie paced back and forth in her cell, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. She hastily swiped them away, trying desperately to overcome recent images of Glenn from her mind.
Nothing could have prepared the Greene daughter for the moment Daryl had walked through the cell block's entrance with Glenn, hanging from his shoulder. The entire cell block became deadly silent in that moment and everything blurred. Carol had been the first to move, running as fast as her feet could carry her to retrieve Hershel from watch duty. Dale fired rapid orders, commanding Patricia and Sophia to retrieve whatever Hershel would need. Lori immediately questioned Daryl about her husband and son's whereabouts, a deep frown etched into the contours of her pale face.
And all the while, Maggie had been frozen.
Her eyes were fiercely locked on Glenn's figure from the moment he had first been carried into the cell, studying the wounds at his shoulder and blood seeping into his shirt. He was drenched with sweat and was only barely able to keep his eyes open. As Daryl lowered Glenn onto a nearby stool, the Greene daughter still remained quiet, eyes wide and hands shaking at her sides. It wasn't until she felt Carol gently pulling her into the nearest cell that she was able to register what had just happened.
Glenn was hurt.
Maggie fought against her comrades, urging to see Glenn and be by his side while he recovered. She yelled, kicked and screamed, but she was still forced to stay in the cell. It was for the best, they said, Hershel needed to work on Glenn and didn't need Maggie there to distract him.
Daryl, Carol and Dale took shifts watching over her for what felt like an eternity. And Maggie was forced to wait, wait until the sun was lowering behind the prison complex and the new day had come to an end. She had to endure the torture of not knowing whether Glenn would live or die.
It was almost too much.
A light knocking at the cell's entrance startled her from troubled thoughts, and in the doorway she spied Emma. The woman smiled briefly, leaning against the side of the cell's entrance with her arms folded.
"Hey," she called.
Maggie didn't greet the woman as kindly, but she doubted Emma would take it personally. They had developed somewhat of an understanding over the past two weeks. Maggie knew the type of person Emma was, someone to be trusted, and someone who couldn't scare off easily. "Is there any news?" Maggie pleaded. "How is he?"
The woman sighed, pushing from the entrance way. "His wound was deeper than Hershel expected," Maggie winced at the choice of words, knowing that Emma would be the one to give it to her straight. If anything, the woman was true to her words, even if they hurt. Maggie felt her heart clench as the woman continued. "But he managed to secure the lesion. All we can do now is wait." Emma forced a smile but Maggie could see that it did not reach her eyes.
For a moment the pair merely continued to stare at each other, but before it could turn into a serious problem, the Greene daughter nodded her head once and continued pacing once more. Instead of leaving like Maggie half expected of her new friend, Emma loitered near the entrance, seeming uncertain about herself. Maggie turned to her with a frown.
"Is there something wrong?"
Emma shook her head. "No," she paused, glancing about. "You've, uh, got a nice place." She stammered, inviting herself further into the cell. Maggie studied the woman closely, the tension in her shoulders, the tautness of her face, the aversion of her eyes. It only took a moment to realise why Emma was still there.
"They wanted you to keep an eye on me?"
Emma stilled, but a slight smirk appeared at the corner of her lips. "Guilty," she held her hands up in mock-defeat. Maggie rolled her eyes, but did not vent her annoyance. She was too busy worrying over Glenn to care for another argument, one she knew would be lost.
She just had to wait. Again.
"So," Emma sat on the opposite side of the tiny cell, leaning back against the concrete wall. "How're you feeling?"
Maggie chuckled, but she knew the action did not meet her eyes. "If I told you I was fine," she paused, lifting her gaze to the opposite wall. "I'd be lying."
Emma cleared her throat. "I'm sorry about what happened with Glenn," she began, tucking a dark curl behind her ear. "It was my fault, I should have never opened my God damned mouth." Maggie stared at her, confused by the woman's conduct, until she remembered the story Andrea and Emma had appealed.
"You didn't actually tell us the full story," she said. "About what happened in there?"
Emma was silent for the first few moments, staring down at her hands thoughtfully. With a sigh the woman squared her shoulders and looked Maggie directly in the eye, all traces of hesitation gone. "Well as you know, we found the prisoners hidden inside the mess hall." She shook her head then, eyes narrowed in disgust. "Daryl," she croaked. "Daryl wanted them gone. He took one look at them and knew the potential danger they could be. We all did."
"So why were they clearing a cell for them?" Maggie pressed, she wasn't pissed at Emma, or any of them for that matter, it was just her frustration at not being able to see Glenn that truly got to her.
"It was because of me," Emma mumbled. "I had to open my stupid mouth and tell Rick and the others what I thought." Her fists tightened slightly and Maggie wondered if there was something more to the story that Emma wasn't telling. "Not that I trusted them," Emma continued. "But these prisoners were people too. They were survivors and I thought they deserved a second chance," she was standing now, pacing in front of Maggie, long wisps of hair trailing down her slender spine. "What if that had of been me?" She breathed. "What if two weeks ago, I didn't have you or The Doc to stand up for me?"
Maggie frowned. "Or Daryl," she added, watching Emma closely. As expected, the woman tensed at the mention of Maggie's comrade, but didn't take long to recover.
"Yeah," she mumbled flippantly, tucking a curl behind her ear. "I know it's stupid, but I could have easily been one of those four guys. I'm not exactly a people person you know."
The Greene daughter moved towards the cell's bunk and sat down. "What are you trying to say?"
Emma sighed. "I don't disagree that they're a pack of shady bastards. They are." She leant back against the concrete wall then, hands in scarlet fists by her side. "But if it had of been me in their position," she paused. "I would have wanted someone to stand up and offer me a second chance. Everybody deserve's one, no matter how bad they may seem. I'm only sorry that Glenn got hurt in the process. I never meant for that to happen."
Silence echoed throughout the tiny cell. Both sitting content with the numbness of sound. Maggie didn't know what to think of Emma's reasonings. On one hand she could agree that everyone deserved a second chance, but with recent developments she couldn't help but feel a sense of affliction towards the prisoners. And for good reason. They had hurt Glenn, which in turn had hurt her. Maggie was inclined to hate them, no matter where they had come from or what their story had been, she wanted them to hurt. She wanted to them to suffer as much as Glenn was suffering now.
Just then, Patricia entered, cleaning her hands on a white flannel. She informed both girls that Glenn was doing fine and was up to seeing visitors. Maggie felt her entire world refocus as the weight she had been carrying on her shoulders suddenly lifted and she was able to breathe properly now. Patricia quickly scuttled off and left both girls to their devices.
"I guess I'll leave you to it," Emma made to leave, giving Maggie a brief smile before she walked from the cell. The Greene daughter was quick to catch her, pulling her elbow to a stop.
"Emma, wait," she drawled. Maggie had never been one to leave things unsettled between friends. She hated not knowing where she stood. Glenn was another matter altogether, but Emma was her friend, and Maggie knew that Emma would be the type to blame herself for what had happened. She already was. "I just want to say that I don't blame you for what happened to Glenn," the Greene daughter smiled, nudging the woman's shoulder reassuringly. "I know you were only trying to do the right thing." Emma nodded slowly, as if she were unsure of Maggie's statement, but the Greene daughter held firm to her beliefs. She still wasn't sure if it had been the right thing to do, but she knew it was just a part of Emma's nature to try to help others.
Smiling briefly, Maggie bade Emma farewell and trailed down the metal landing towards the far corner of the cellblock where her father had set up a temporary infirmary. Eagerness coursed through her veins with every step forward. She didn't know how to feel, sad, happy, grieved, or angry. It overwhelmed her all at once and by the time she reached the open doorway the Greene daughter was practically short of breath. Her hands were shaking as she made a half-hearted attempt at knocking.
Wise Greene eyes met hers and for a moment they merely stared at each other, conversing through the clear emotions portrayed. It was almost too much for Maggie to handle.
"Ah Hershel," a timid voice perked up from beside the occupied mattress. "Do you mind helping me to dispose of these dressings?" Carol smiled briefly at the man before getting to her feet and tidying the space around her. She didn't wait for a reply and soon had everything in her hands, moving past Maggie with a small nod. Hershel was slower to react. He hadn't answered Carol, but after a brief moment he rose, glanced over his shoulder and walked from the room. He didn't say or do anything more.
Glenn.
The Greene daughter shuffled forward, loosing her footing on her way and ending up falling ungracefully in the chair beside his bed. The man was asleep, his shirt was off, exposing a large white bandage that covered most of his left shoulder and collar. Maggie examined every inch of the man, fighting back tears when she spied the small creases of dried blood on his bedspreads. It was heartbreaking. She leaned forward and pressed her forehead into his good side, though not so as to cause too much pain. This was the time she allowed herself to weep. And the tears came pouring from her eyes. All the frustration and anger from his distance in the past two weeks made it much worse. She wasn't crying for his wounds only, she was crying because she had almost lost him; just like he had her.
Understanding hit with a tidal wave of other emotions. Was this how Glenn had felt two weeks ago when she had almost gotten herself killed? Maggie had tried to understand what it must have felt like, but she never could. Glenn was ruthless and unforgiving in his harshness. She could never understand why he was treating her as if he didn't care. That was until a few hours ago when her entire world had come crashing into a new reality.
She raked her eyes over his motionless form once again, studying the timid movements of his torso as he breathed in and out.
How could she have been so stupid to believe that Glenn wouldn't be hurting after her several near-death experiences? He was the love of her life and as much as they fought, they also loved and lived together in perfect unison. Their love was unbreakable, despite her petty thoughts, Maggie had it all wrong. Glenn didn't blame her for everything that had happened, he blamed himself, much like she was blaming herself for his current condition. She was afraid, and people who were afraid tended to act foolish.
She only wished, things were different.
Glenn shifted beneath her and the Greene daughter darted back out of fear she had caused him pain, when he merely continued to grumbled and shuffle about the bed, she realised he was having a bad dream. It had been almost two weeks since they had shared the same bed and she had almost forgotten about the nightmares that kept him up for most of the night. Her hands instantly reached forward and caressed his forehead and cheek. It was what her mother had done for her, and what the Greene daughter would do for Glenn when he had a nightmare in the middle of the evening. As expected, Glenn relaxed into her touch and soon settled back into a deep slumber. Maggie smiled, keeping her hand on his face and slowly massaging the space there with a feather light touch.
He was the love of her life, and she was his. There had never been a more perfect union than the one they shared in. He was hers, and she was his. And only recently did Maggie come to know just how real their love was.
"I love you Glenn Rhee," she whispered into his neck, allowing tears to fall. "Do you hear me?" She whimpered. "I love you so much." Tears poured from her eyes then and she cried into his shoulder, squeezing his hand tightly. It was only when she stopped crying that she felt a familiar hand, playing with her hair. Maggie paused, drawing a deep breath and relishing the contact of his hand against her. It was a long moment before she worked up the courage to pull away and stare into familiar brown eyes. Maggie gasped at what she saw.
"Yes," Glenn wheezed and managed another breathtaking smile. "I hear you."
His head hurt. His stomach was empty. And his son was missing. Carl needed him, now more than ever. His stupid, careless and brave son was alone right now, facing whatever danger lurked within these walls. Rick Grimes, lowered his weapon to the floor, speeding through the corridors of the prison at record speed. He had to find Carl. He had to find him before something happened. Something always happened.
Just as he was about to turn left heading towards the mess hall, the sounds of voices drifted from the darkness beyond.
Carl.
The leader didn't waste any time sprinting down the corridor to his right. As he neared, the voices became distinct and he was certain Carl belonged to one of them, but the second, deeper voice of the pair, was different.
It was a man's voice.
Rick backed up against the concrete wall, waiting for the opportune moment to reveal himself. By the sounds of their voices, the man was facing away from Rick's hiding spot and Carl was slightly lowered to the ground. Years on the force had taught him to hone his skills, and he was certain it would help him now. Counting to three, Rick prepared himself for an attack. On the third beat his weapon poised, ready and he swiftly cut around the concrete bend. What he saw however, made him pause.
It was Carl in the corner of the corridor, a gun aimed at his head.
Rick didn't hesitate. "Lower your weapon," the leader growled, barely containing the wrath inside of him. Carl locked eyes with his father, a flash of surprise and relief rushing through him. I'm here son. The assailant lowered the weapon slowly, one that Rick noticed was Carl's, and stood motionless. "Now turn around," the assailant moved a little too quickly for Rick's liking. "Slowly," the leader yelled and his attacker complied without a moment's hesitation.
Gradually, the man turned.
"Thomas?" Rick gasped, surprised at the turn of events. He lowered his weapon slightly, his mind elsewhere at present and with the brief distraction, Thomas acted. Rick cursed as the man suddenly swooped forward and tackled the leader to the ground. Thomas had the upper hand, being bigger and a lot more agile than Rick. If the ex-sheriff had eaten a proper meal recently he probably would have been more alert, but as it was, he was slower to react and it costed him.
Thomas forced the weapon from Rick's hand and dug his knee into the leader's throat. A familiar smirk appeared on the man's face, but before the male could speak a flash of something glimmered beneath his eyes and Thomas was suddenly turning away from Rick and aiming his weapon at the space behind him.
"I wouldn't if I was you, son," the male drawled. From the corner of his eyes Rick could see Carl lower to the ground once more. If the leader were to make a move now, they could both be in trouble. He couldn't risk Carl's life, not while it was so risky. After a beat Thomas turned back to Rick's crumpled form and sighed. "Now," his trademark smirk returning. "How about we all start having a lil' bit of fun down here?"
A/N: Hi, sorry for the late update, but here's the new chappy! ENJOY :)
K
P.S Will talk more about this chapter in the next one ^.^