The baby cried. It cried so loudly.
Reagan sat on her knees, staring at the baby girl cradled in her hands. Her dirty blonde hair hung in her face and tickled the baby's cheeks. In return, the babies crying subsided and her coo's and mumbles managed to begin to bring Reagan back to reality. Her golden eyes softened and her bloody thumb ran across the baby's cheek, the soft skin of the little child making her skin shudder. The baby's tiny hand then wrapped around Reagan's thumb and her lips continued to smack. Reagan knew the baby was getting hungry.
"Rick... you with me?" Reagan heard Daryl's voice, and as she looked up to see him waving his hand in front of Rick's face, "Rick!?"
At the sight of him, Reagan's stomach plummeted and she felt like she was going to get sick. Rick still sat on his knees, staring off into the void of the distant forest.
"Reagan, the baby." Hershel called to her, his balance now professional on the crutches, "How is the baby?"
"What're we gonna feed it?" Daryl asked as he walked over next to Reagan, crouching next to her, "We got anything a baby can eat?"
"She looks healthy, that's good." Hershel said, now hovering over Reagan. She took notice to the men now surrounding her, her eyes staring aimlessly, "You alright sweetheart? You're pale."
Reagan took a couple deep breaths, her mouth dry. She then looked back down at the baby, the infants blue eyes staring up at her tiredly. Finally, Reagan came back to her senses and she began to stand back on her shakey feet, "I'm fine..." She said quietly, "The baby... she's hungry."
"She needs formula," Hershel's eyes drew to Daryl, "And soon, or she's not gonna make it."
"Nope, no way." Daryl shook his head and tossed the strap of his crossbow over his head, "Not her. We ain't loosin' nobody else, I'm goin' for a run!"
As Daryl began to trudge away towards his motorcycle, Reagan turned around, "Daryl, wait." At the sound of her loud tone, Daryl stopped and turned back halfway to face her, "I'll go with you. I know a place where we can go."
"We'll go, too." Glenn vouched for both he and Maggie. Reagan shook her head,
"No, you'll be better off here, making sure everything stays safe."
"Reagan," Hershel's voice was stern, "You need to rest... you don't look all too well."
"I'll be fine." She replied, her jaw tight and her tone lowered, "Rick needs to be taken care of, and soon."
"I'll take her." Beth said as she slowly approached Reagan, "I'll take care of her while you're gone."
"Alright." Reagan whispered more to herself than Beth. Slowly, she handed the baby over to Beth as gently as she could, Carl's jacket still wrapped around the infant.
"Hey," Daryl called Beth over, and as he did, Reagan retreated to the side of the building where her backpack lied. After a quiet conversation with Beth, Daryl called out, "You two get the fence! Too many pile up, we got ourselves a problem! Glenn, Maggie, vamanos!"
"Rick!" Maggie shouted, and at the sound of his name, Reagan turned to see Rick had snatched the axe from the ground. He trudged towards the door to the prison, and as Rick passed her, Reagan held her breath, waiting for that axe to end her life.
But alas, it didn't. Rick disappeared into the prison, Reagan so desperately wanting to go after him. But in those moments, she had more important things on her mind. She needed to get that baby taken care of. Because within a few hours, and without food, the infant would die and Lori's sacrifice would have been for absolutely nothing. Daryl began to pace at the sight of everyone just standing around, their faces solemn and hopeless. He growled, "Get the gate! Come on, or we're gonna lose the light!"
Reagan was quick behind Daryl as they ran towards his motorcycle. Daryl looked back at her, "There's a place on eighty-five we haven't picked much, we can go there."
"No," Regan shook her head, "The baby station there was picked clean. Lori asked me to keep an eye out, haven't had much luck."
"Is there a place that hasn't been completely looted?" Daryl asked as he swung his crossbow off his back.
"I saw some signs for a shopping center just north of here on our way in." Reagan said, her arms slipping through her backpacks straps. Her hand ripped open the door to the Dodge Ram, "Only thing is... lots of downed trees and debris on the roadway don't think any car can make it."
"Well, looks like you're riding with me." Daryl grabbed up his poncho and tossed it over his head. As he swung his leg over the motorcycle, he kick-started the loud engine and revved it to life, "Let's get goin'."
Reagan was hesitant, but sparing no more time, she jumped on the back of the loud beast. Daryl revved the engine a couple more times and then kicked it into gear, slowly letting out the clutch. Glenn and Maggie opened the gate for them, and in the haste of the bike's take off, Reagan grabbed onto Daryl's waist to avoid falling off the back. Daryl was already in third gear as he passed through the gate, and Reagan didn't blame him for wanting to rush out to the place Reagan had spotted. Axel and Oscar were at the bottom gates waiting, and as the speeding bike rolled through, they closed the gate behind Rick's two best hands.
The wind ripped through Reagan's dirty blonde hair, blood near some of the tips as they whipped in the wind. Her tired eyes were hard to keep open, but just off sheer adrenaline and will, she kept awake. Her body relaxed once they were on the road, the dry blood on her hands beginning to make her hands itch. She ignored those urges and took a deep breath, nothing but Rick's lost expression engraved in the back of her eye lids. Reagan didn't want to close her eyes in fear of seeing his sadness. She didn't even want to think about what happened, and what might happen if Rick found out what Reagan had to do to his poor wife. Would he kick her out? Would he hate her forever? Or would he just end her pitiful life, right then and there?
'Shut the fuck up and get yourself together you worthless piece of shit.' Reagan shook her head to finally get her from being consumed by her thoughts.
Reagan pointed the way for Daryl from behind, and it had only taken them about an hour to get to their destination. Daryl had to maneuver through a set of trees that had fallen over the roadway, just as Reagan had said. Some parts, Reagan didn't even think they would get through, but she was utterly surprised that Daryl had so expertly weaved through the obstacles. But then again, she had seen how good he was at driving the motorcycle.
Frankly, Reagan missed riding on the back of one.
But the serene bliss she felt on the motorcycle ended when Daryl came to a stop just outside their destination.
Reagan's eyes stared at the daycare, the yellow paint of the building chipping from the destructive weather it had experienced. Reagan pushed herself up from Daryl's shoulders and stepped onto her own two feet, Daryl not far behind her. Daryl pulled his crossbow off the rack he built on the front of his bike, shouldering the strap, "Like always... stay tight, call out if you need anything."
Reagan didn't reply to him as she walked up to the gate, opening it for the both of them. The eerie squealing of the gate made her uneasy of their surroundings, but she knew whatever came their way, the two of them could handle it. She tossed Daryl a quick look as she heard him close the gate behind him, he only replied to her eye contact with a nod. Reagan then eyed the swing set in the yard, as well as a sandbox, and other jungle gyms around them. She could spot a few toy trucks in the overgrown grass, making a tsunami of memories of her own child flood her mind. But as soon as they did, she quickly blocked them and kept her mind of the task at hand: keeping Rick's child and Carl's baby sister alive.
Daryl stopped to gauge their surroundings and Reagan slid her silenced pistol out of its holster as she approached a window. Her still-bloody hand wiped the dirt from the glass and then hovered over her brow as she stared in, trying to sense any movement. Upon not seeing any immediate danger, she gripped the barrel of her pistol and smashed the glass with its back end, shattering it into pieces. Daryl kept watch as she cleared out the shards around the frame for easier access, and as she crawled inside, he was quick behind her. Reagan's foot knocked over toys as she entered the dim lit room. At the loud sound of them being knocked over, she fully gripped her pistol from the grip and pointed it around her. Her keen, gold eyes scanned the room for movement and her ears attempted to pick up any sounds. But alas, there weren't any and she motioned for Daryl to follow in her path.
Cribs and playmate littered the confines of the room, and if Reagan had a vehicle, she definitely would've grabbed one of them. As she stepped further into the room, looking for anything valuable, she saw many paper-cut handprints on the wall. Many children's names were written all over them, some handwriting nice and some rough. Once she spotted some cabinets on the next wall, she ripped her backpack off and knelt down, opening the bottom ones first. Daryl watched her rummage through the lower cabinets, but quickly moved along to descend on his own search for supplies for the tiny Grimes baby.
Inside the cabinets, Reagan breathed in relief at the sight of scattered bottles and diapers. She grabbed what she could and stuffed them in the bag, not bothering to organize what was going in. Soft blankets, sealed bottles, a few stray diapers here and there; but the supplies were thin and she knew she would have to continue on her search. She wanted to get as much as she could to avoid putting anyone in danger at finding more supplies in the near future.
Reagan forcefully zipped her backpack up and stood to her feet once again, shouldering the black backpack. As she stepped out into the hallway, she saw Daryl making his way back from the other end, shaking his head at her. Looking down the way in which was untouched by their feet, Reagan saw sunlight from a doorway that had pierced the darkness veil. She and Daryl advanced towards the split door, the bottom half closed, and the top half open. As she approached, Reagan let Daryl in front, who had stuck his flashlight in his mouth for better use of his crossbow. He looked back at her and she nodded, waiting for him to continue on as she followed behind. Daryl peered over the corner of the door, staring into the room with cautious eyes. He reached down and twisted the doorknob, slowly turning it and pushing the lower half open.
Reagan could hear soft scratching in the closet behind the door, her pistol hovering over Daryl's shoulder. As the two slowly moved in, Reagan leaned in front of him and put her bloody hand on the rod of the closet door. Her eyes met with his and he nodded in commands to open it for him. Reagan then ripped open the door, Daryl's trigger finger quick as he released a bolt from its limbs. The bolt struck the poor possums body and it rolled on its side, letting out a few grunts as its life drained from its eyes. Daryl marched forward to grab his prize, "Hello dinner."
Reagan cursed mentally. She absolutely hated the way possum tasted. But like anything else, it was better than to eat whatever they could find than go hungry, "I'm not putting that in my backpack."
She then turned around and observed the cabinets above her as Daryl salvaged the possum body. Her nimble fingers opened the cupboards and her golden eyes lit up at the sight of a tub of baby formula staring back at her. Hastily, she shoved it in her bag and moved onto the other cabinets, finding four more cans of the powdered milk. She was relieved at the weight of her backpack; Reagan was half expecting to not find anything useful at all.
After gathering what she was there to gather, Reagan moved about the rest of the building to make sure she got everything she wanted. But as she walked, she wasn't exactly looking for anything, just moving around to make it seem like she was doing something. Aimlessly she walked, her fingers brushing up against the hallway wall as she moved. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a plethora of cribs and noticed that the doorway to her right was a nursery. Mindlessly she walked in and took in the scenery that was the room. Cribs lined the edges, cheap décor cluttered the walls, and childish wallpaper peeled off the wall like the paint on the outside had. Reagan stopped for a moment to take in the ambience of the room. Even though it was abandoned, rotted, and in shambles from the world around it, the room still gave off a warm and comforting vibe. She then took a deep breath, stepping towards the many different styles of cribs set up.
Reagan peered over the side of a blue colored crib, seeing a shamble of blankets on the tiny little mattress. And in that muddle of blankets she saw a fuzzy brown item sticking out from under a red blanket. She moved her hand down and gripped the edge of the blanket with her fingers, pulling it up and moving it out of the way. Her eyes narrowed and her lips parted as she let out her held breath. Her crimson clad fingers picked up a small teddy bear, its entire being not like any generic teddy bear she had seen, meaning a mother had taken the time to make it for her child. Her thumb traced over the thick seams of its edges and her eyes couldn't stop staring at the black buttons it had for eyes.
Tears began to stream down her cheeks. She broke, not able to hold it in any longer as reality struck her like a bolt of lightning. As her hands held onto the teddy, she took in the full realization that Lori's blood was still on her hands. She had to go back to the prison and attempt to face her demons. Her biggest demons being Rick with that completely dead and lost look in his blue eyes. She knew that feeling all too well, the feeling of losing the thing you love the most. Reagan's lips quivered and she placed her hand on her forehead as the tears rolled heavier. She sobbed and whimpered under her breath, lowering her head to the point her hair hung in her face once again. Her heart was heavy.
"Reagan." Daryl's light, gruff voice spoke out to her, "Get yourself together, we gotta go."
Reagan shook her head, feeling completely broken, "I can't... I can't go back to that place."
"Why not?" His eyes narrowed as he stepped further into the room.
"I killed Lori." He voice cracked and she lifted her head, her gold eyes finding Daryl, "I'm the reason why she's dead."
She couldn't decipher the look in Daryl's eyes, but she saw him shake his head through the shroud of tears, "That ain't you."
"It is me." Reagan argued and took a deep breath to further her confession, "I pulled her through the prison because our cellblock was overrun... she started having contractions, telling me the baby was coming. Carl found a somewhat safe place for us, but it was nowhere to have a baby. I wanted her to wait, but there was no way."
Reagan then began to rub her thumb and finger together, the blood on her hands chaffing into the crib, "She started bleeding really bad and I knew it wasn't good. I tried to get her up and to get back to the cellblock where I could make it safe. But she couldn't do it; there was nothing more I could do. She lied there on the ground and told me it was between her and the baby, and she wasn't going to let her baby die. There was only one way I was going to get that baby out without it dying."
Her eyes met Daryl's once again, and she watched him chew on the inside of his lip. She shook her head and dropped her gaze to the ground, "I cut that baby out of her stomach. She kept begging me to. There wasn't anything I could've done to save her life, there was too much bleeding. So I cut her open... and pulled that child from her dying body. I can't go back and face Rick for what I've done."
"You can, and you will." Daryl said with his hands tight on his crossbow as he took a couple steps towards her, "You did what you had to do; to save either one life or none. You ain't stupid; you had to know that not cutting that baby out would be the death of both of them.''
"But I-"
"Shut the hell up." Daryl shook his head, suddenly remembering the look in Dale's eyes as he held Rick's pistol between them, "I know somethin' like that ain't easy to do, and you're gonna feel like shit for a long time 'cus of it. But them people-our people- back at that prison waiting for us, they need you just as much as they need me. Especially that baby..."
Daryl shifted his posture and walked up next to her, "So you either quit feelin' sorry for yourself, get your shit together, and help me get what that baby needs back to her, or I'm gonna leave your cowardly ass to the wolves and not look back."
.:=:.
The cool night air made Reagan's skin rise with goose bumps, but the edges of Daryl's poncho offered her only a small amount of warmth. Her hair whipped wildly about her and her golden eyes manage to steal a gaze at the stars above them every few minutes or so. After finally confessing to Daryl, she felt like some sort of weight had been lifted off her shoulders. As much as they never really got along, she was surprised Daryl managed to comfort her with his words as much as he did. But he was right in the long run. Reagan was never one to run and hide, therefore, running and hiding now would defeat the purpose of her being. The people needed her back at the prison. They needed her smarts, her wits, and her strength.
Daryl's motorcycle rolled across the asphalt of the abandoned roadways, leaves jumping away from the bike as it passed. The headlight was bright enough to illuminate the roadway and most of the trees they passed, just in case a Walker or random deer wanted to pop out of nowhere. But the concealing trees were ending when at the end of the road, the gates of the prison waited for them to arrive patiently. Outside, a few Walkers leaned up against the fences in attempts to get in. Daryl wasn't slowing down, and Reagan sure hoped someone was at the fence waiting for their arrival. But alas, even in the darkness, she saw movement and the fencing opened for them. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a Walker fall to the ground next to them, its head exploded all over the concrete.
Upon their arrival of the second set of gates, Daryl didn't bother to park the bike, only shut off the engine and brought it to an abrupt stop. Both Daryl and Reagan were quick off the seat as the two rushed towards the cellblock. The door squealed open and Reagan was down the set of stairs first, everyone staring in awe at their return. She ripped the backpack off her back and peeled it open, yanking out the package of bottles and cans of formula from its inside. Daryl was quick down the catwalk, the infant crying in her big brothers arms. Carl did his best to quell his young sister's cries as he rocked and bounced her in his arms, but it offered no solace. Reagan's fingers spryly uncapped a water bottle and she began mixing water and formula in a clean bottle for the baby.
"Shhhh," Daryl cooed to the child, taking her up in his strong arms. The baby's cries lightened at the sound of his voice and he looked to Reagan, who had walked towards him with the bottle in her hand,
"Here." She said quietly and he nodded,
"Thanks." Daryl replied, and under his breath, he continued to coo at the child to quiet itself. Tipping the bottle over, the baby's mouth finally found the nipple of the bottle, "Come on, come on..."
The infant finally stopped crying and suckled on her bottle quietly, Daryl lightly rocking her back and forth as she did so. Reagan tilted her head and watched with tired eyes, the sight of the child calming the storm of her thoughts. It brought back so many wonderful memories that she couldn't help but feel somewhat happy. A small smile lit up on her rosy lips as she watched the baby in Daryl's arms. She never thought she would ever see Daryl do something so soft with such a fragile little being. Daryl smiled and looked up at everyone, obviously proud he and Reagan saved the young child's life. it may have been the proudest moment of his life. With his hand still elevated, bottle in hand, Daryl looked down to Carl, who stared at his little sister.
"She have a name yet?" Daryl asked, and Carl's blue eyes met his.
"No..." He shook his head, "Not yet. I was thinking... maybe, Sophia? And there's Carol, too... and," Carl paused with a sigh, "Andrea, Amy, Jaquie, Patricia... and, Lori. I don't know."
At the sound of his mother's name, Reagan chewed on her bottom lip and looked to the ground. She sighed to herself and ran her fingers through her hair, then crossing her arms and looking down into the darkness past the cellblock. Carl turned away from Daryl, who looked back down at the baby as she still fed.
His rough voice then spoke softly, "Yeah, you like that, huh? Lil' Asskicker?" Daryl smiled and looked at everyone around him, "Right? That's a good name, right? Lil' Asskicker... you like that, huh? You like that, sweetheart?"
Reagan smiled and pushed off the bench she was leaning on, walking towards the designated cellblock she deemed her own. She stared at the old, grey mattress that waited for her. Her body was so ridiculously tired Reagan was amazed she could stand where she did. Her fingers curled around the bars of the door and she rested her forehead against it, closing her eyes and letting out a light groan. Knocked from her thoughts, Reagan felt a hand on her shoulder and she looked over to see Hershel staring back at her. He squeezed his hand in reassurance and hobbled a bit on his crutches, keeping balance surprisingly well.
"Got a minute?" His southern licked voice was low and Reagan nodded at him,
"Step into my office." She motioned, and walked into the cell. Hershel was close behind her and pulled up a stool for him to rest on for a few moments. Reagan already knew what it was about, "How's Rick?"
"Not very well." Hershel licked his lips and leaned over his knee, elbow resting on his knee, "He practically attacked Glenn, didn't retain a word Glenn was trying to tell him. I haven't really talked to him myself but... it's not looking good."
"We'll deal with him tomorrow..." Reagan said tiredly and Hershel nodded his bearded chin,
"Yes... I agree." Hershel hesitated to speak at first, but he managed once he gathered up the courage, "I want to let you know now... don't let what you did get to you too much. If you let it eat at you... we're gonna lose you, too. And we can't afford that right now."
"How do you know what I did, what I had to do?"
"I'm not an idiot, dear..." Hershel smiled through the thicket of whiskers on his face, "No knife on your belt, hands bloody, you comin' back to us without Lori. It pretty much spoke for itself."
"If I had a choice, it would've been different..." Reagan lowered her head, hearing the understanding in Hershel's voice,
"Yes, yes I know." He nodded and then awkwardly got to his foot and crutches, "I can honestly say, I don't think anyone would've been able to do it, and that baby out there wouldn't even be here without you, remember that."
"Thanks, Hershel."
"I'll have Bethy keep an eye on the baby tonight and let you get some sleep, you really need it." Reagan didn't debate and Hershel left her cell quietly.
Reagan sighed and leaned back on the lumpy mattress, her fingers crossing over her belly. She felt her stomach rise and fall with each breath she took, and the rhythm of it made her eyes close. As they opened, she stared at the top bunk above her, the fabric of the mattress drooping down between the bars of the frame. Reagan grew annoyed staring at the fabric above her and turned to her side, resting her cheek on her bicep instead of her pillow. She wondered where Rick had wound up in the maze that was the prison, what he could be doing, if he found Lori's body. Reagan was truly worried. Her jaw tightened and warmth crawled up her throat as her vision began to become blurry. As her eye blinked, a tear broke from the edge of her eye and rolled over the bridge of her nose, tickling her skin all the way down. She ignored it, not moving once. All she could do was stare at the wall before her, old blood spattered everywhere.
"Rick... please be alright."
.:=:.
Reagan gasped and lurched up, panting as she stared at the stupid cloth draping through the bars above her. Her chest heaved and huffed, Reagan's golden eyes staring blindly. After a few moments, which felt like forever, Reagan closed her eyes and pressed her palm against her forehead. All she remembered was the nightmare she had just broken, sweat breaking out on the edge of her forehead. Reagan jumped to her feet, boots still on and marched out of her cell, searching for one thing and one thing only
Her mouth was so dry as she searched for a bottle of water. As she entered the commons, she noticed that most of everyone was awake, either eating whatever breakfast there was or just enjoying the company of each other.
"Woah, Reagan, you alright?" Glenn asked and Reagan nodded reassuringly,
"Yeah... just need some water."
"You sure? Your face is all clammy."
"Just a bad dream, don't worry about me." Reagan finally found a bottle of water and uncapped it, tipping her head back and letting it flow. She chugged the water, some of it leaking out of the corner of her mouth in the rush. It stained her shirt and cooled her skin underneath; Reagan didn't care, she just wanted the literal relief of washing the nightmares away.
"Everybody okay?" A voice called from behind a barred door.
Reagan froze for a moment and slowly turned her head over to none other than Rick Grimes. His hand pushed the door open and everyone stared in amazement as he walked into the commons. Maggie put the spoon to her oatmeal back in her bowl, "Yeah..."
Rick walked forward out of the darkness of the corridor slowly, eyeing Carl as he approached his pre-teen son. Hershel looked at Rick thoughtfully, "How bout you?"
"I cleared out the boiler block." Rick was short on his words as he faced Carl, his keen eyes glazing over Carl to make sure he was unharmed.
"How many were there?" Daryl asked from the stoop of the commons, his spoon swirling stickily in his oatmeal.
"Uhh, I don't know, a dozen? Two dozen?" Rick said as he looked at Daryl for a moment before turning around and rubbing Carl's shoulder, "I have to get back now, just wanted to check of Carl."
"Rick, we can handle taking out the bodies." Glenn jumped to his feet, "You don't have to-"
"No, I do." Rick whirled around and marched towards Daryl, stopping a couple feet from him, "Everyone have a gun and a knife?"
"Yeah, runnin' low on ammo though." Daryl nodded.
"Maggie and me were planning on making a run this afternoon." Glenn said from behind Rick, "Found a phone book... found a place where we can look for bullets and formula."
"We're gonna head up to the generator room." Daryl pulled Rick's attention back to him, "Axel's up there tryin' to fix it, just in case of an emergency. We're gonna sweep the lower levels as well."
"Good." Rick nodded and turned back around towards the door in which he entered.
"Rick!" Hershel called his name, but Rick didn't stop and only slammed the steel door behind him.
Reagan stared at Carl, seeing the defeated look on the poor boy's face. She was so used to seeing those crystal blue eyes of his lit up and curious about his surroundings. But ever since the night before did she notice that the dead look in his eyes was starting to show. She knew that she bore the same look, but his was much, much worse. He sat on the bench and picked at the food in front of him, but none of it made it into his mouth. For a mere moment, Carl's eyes met with Reagan's and Carl immediately looked away. Reagan feared she had ended what she had with Carl when she cut open his mother's stomach; she didn't want the boy to hate her for doing what she was told to do.
She shook herself of the thoughts and walked back to her cell, eyeing the old scythe blade glaring back at her from the corner. Dismissing its sight, she picked up her pistol and slipped the silenced beast into its holster on her belt. Her fingers brushed up against the sheath of her knife, her knife still stuck in the boiler block where she left it. With only her pistol and the limited ammo she had, all she could do was hope she didn't run into a pack of Walkers in the depths of the prison hallways. Reagan rummaged around in her bag and grabbed up a hair tie, stuffing her blonde hair up into a ponytail. The relief from the back on her sweaty neck caused her to sigh in bliss and she wiped her forehead of its stray sweat with her sleeve.
"Reagan." Hershel stopped her with his stern voice, "Where are you goin'?"
Everyone in the commons was now dispersing and Hershel still sat at the table, an empty Styrofoam bowl in front of him. Reagan turned to face the older man, "I'm gonna go talk to Rick."
"Think that's a good idea?" He asked and Reagan shrugged,
"Nothin' much more I can do aside from that." Her thumb pressed up against the back end of her flashlight, the light flickering on, "He's gotta come out of the psychic break, sooner better than later."
Without giving Hershel time to respond, Reagan pushed through the door and descended into the darkness of the corridor. She pulled her pistol up and rested it on the wrist of the hand that held her flashlight, her legs moving her body almost inaudibly across the concrete floors. Her golden eyes constantly checked her surroundings in front of her, the flashlight in her hands darting back and forth. Like a knife, the flashlight cut through the dark that was almost blacker than night. Weaving around the many corners, Reagan got a few flashbacks from the day prior and immediately rejected them.
She then stopped once she saw the door to the boiler room cracked open. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open and heard it squeal, half expecting Rick to come running to point his forty-four at her head. But he didn't. As she walked a few more steps in, she saw Rick look over her shoulder at her, his eyes deep in thought. Rick turned halfway to face her once he realized it was Reagan, his hand resting on the holster of his gun. It always had.
"What're you doin' here?" Rick asked in a low voice with a light tilt of his head, "You should be gettin' ready to go out on supply runs; helpin' everyone."
"They don't need me for that." Reagan hooked her thumbs on the lip of her back pocket, "Besides, I had to go out yesterday and gather things for the baby."
Rick emotionally didn't respond to the word baby and only nodded at Reagan half-heartedly, "Thank you for that."
"Yeah, no problem." Reagan responded sarcastically, but it didn't register in Rick's mind. She then walked a few more feet towards him, leaning on a wall, "Are you... feelin' okay?"
"What do you mean?" Rick asked, "I'm fine."
Reagan visually smacked him across the face in her mind. She crossed her arms and paused for a few moments before replying, "I mean... after what happened and all, you're kinda just impassive about it."
"I ain't impassive." He said firmly, his finger tapping anxiously against the butt of his gun. Reagan noticed his full attention wasn't on her and grew curious when she figured out his eyes were fixated on the telephone before him.
"Rick-"
"What the hell are you here for?" He asked rather harshly and Reagan's expression tightened at the venom he spat. But it only added to the heat that began to boil her ornery blood.
"I'm here to make sure you're alright." Reagan's fingers began to shake anxiously as she tried to keep herself calm and collected, "Where the hell were you all night? Carl was most surely worried sick."
"Carl's fine." Rick said, still staring at the phone on the table before him. Reagan narrowed her eyes,
"What's so damn important about that stupid phone?"
Rick looked at her finally after she addressed dirty, white telephone. He seemed hesitant to speak about it, but he turned halfway to face Reagan once again, staring into her golden eyes, "I got a phone call... from some people." He paused for a moment with hesitation once again, breaking the eye contact he held with her, "The people on the other side... they want to help us."
"Help us?" Reagan mimicked. She stared at him confused and her mind tried to configure what he just said. She knew for a complete fact that Axel hadn't gotten the generators running yet, therefore, there was no electricity running in the building yet. Reagan stepped towards the phone lightly and looked at Rick for approval, "May I?"
Rick wavered for a moment, "I don't know about picking it up... they should be callin' back anytime."
Reagan looked back at the phone again and grabbed the top half of it, lifting it up and resting it against her ear. She narrowed her eyes at the sound that emanated from the other end of the line.
Absolute silence.
"What kind of game are you trying to play here!?" Reagan slammed the phone back down and ripped it off the desk. It slammed against the ground loudly, but to her surprise it didn't break.
"What the hell do you think you're doin'!?" Rick lurched forward at her, but she held her ground.
"There is nothing on the other end of the phone. Nothing but dead silence!"
"Dead silence?" Rick narrowed his eyes, "There were people talkin' to me just a couple hours ago; I know what I head!"
He bent down and grabbed the phone off the floor, fixing it back on itself and putting it back on the desk where it originally lied. Reagan's hands were balled into fists by this time, but she softened them, now becoming a bit more concerned about Rick. Her eyes softened, "Rick... do you not understand the severity of this situation?"
"I don't know what you're talkin' about." Rick denied once more and Reagan scoffed,
"Rick, your wife is dead for god's sake!" Reagan half wished she didn't say it just because of the look Rick gave her. It was so distant, cold, and vicious at the sound of the word wife. Reagan shook her head and gritted her teeth, "I know, because I'm the one that killed her."
It happened so fast. The back of Reagan's head ached when she slammed up against the concrete wall, Rick's hand wrapped around the base of her neck. She stared hard back at him, ignoring the barrel of his pistol pressed up against her forehead. Her jaw tightened and her teeth grinded together, her eyes beginning to quiver in fear. But she didn't let it show, she didn't want him to have the satisfaction of seeing her fear his threat. Guilt rolled up the back of her throat and she could feel her eyes beginning to water. She wanted him to know; he had to know it was her that had done that to his wife.
A tear finally escaped her eye and it rolled down her cheek slowly, "I don't even care if you kill me. We would be even. I just wanted you to know... it was quick. I made sure of it; and... It wasn't my choice."
Reagan couldn't tell if she was lying to herself. It was obvious Lori didn't die a painless death, but it was rather quick.
It felt like forever. Rick stared at her, his blue eyes quivering as he watched Reagan silently cry before him. She stayed strong, waiting for him to plug a bullet in her brain, or set that barrel towards the ground. Reagan could feel Rick's hand beginning to loosen around her neck, but the barrel of his forty-four shook against her head. She knew he was torn in half over the guilt of killing Reagan where she stood and the rage he felt knowing that someone he trusted so much had ended his wife's life. Reagan let out a sigh and closed her eyes, waiting for it to end.
She felt the cold barrel of his gun disappear.
Opening her eyes, Reagan only saw Rick's back to her, and he did not face her again. She swallowed hard and whispered, "I just wanted you to hear it from me, not from anyone else... you still have a family waiting for you back in the cellblock. Carl... the baby... please don't abandon them now. They're goin' to need their father."
Without another word, Reagan whirled around on her heels and quickly exited the boiler room before Rick had a change of heart.
.:=:.
The baby cooed and sucked on her fingers as she stuck them in her mouth, her baby blue eyes looking about the room around her. Reagan smiled and bounced her lightly in her arms, waiting for the child to go to sleep. It was dark in the commons in which she sat, her legs crossed and the baby wrapped in a blanket cradled in her arms. It was finally a moment where she felt like she was in heaven. She never got any decent alone time with the infant and it lit up her soul when she finally achieved her goal for the evening.
Beth wanted to make everyone some possum chili for lunch, so Reagan relieved the girl of her duties and promised to take care of the baby while she cooked. Reagan sat for a long while just staring at the beauty of the child; she almost forgot what it was like to have such light in her life. The baby mumbled and made her tiny baby sounds, grunting, cooing, and babbling to herself. It was like she was having a conversation with the air around her. Reagan did what she could to talk back to the baby, forgetting what it was like to even know what the code of the infamous baby voice was. But she relearned it quick and even managed to make the baby smile and squeal a few times.
Reagan looked up at Hershel across from her, who watched the two in delight. Hershel had also gone to talk to Rick a little while after Reagan had returned. She didn't tell him what had happened, but she told Hershel that Rick was in a bad place; in a poor mindset. After listening to him talk about voices and the telephone, and after listening to the silence on the other end, Reagan feared for him. She did not want him walking off the same edge she almost had when she lost her son Corbin so long ago.
But Reagan knew how Hershel worked, and she absolutely envied the man's way with his philosophical words.
"Almost done Bethy? Sure does smell good." Hershel asked his youngest daughter, who looked back at him with a nod,
"Yes daddy, should be done here in a few minutes." She said as she kept stirring. Reagan could hear her beginning to hum a tune to herself.
"She had a bottle about two or three hours ago," Hershel looked over at Reagan, "Seems like she'll be due her in a few minutes. She's quite the hungry hammy."
"I'll feed her in a little bit." Reagan smiled and looked back into the baby's adorable eyes.
The squealing sound of a door opening caught the attention of Reagan, Hershel, Beth, and Carl, who sat quietly on the bench next to Beth.
Reagan's breath stopped in her throat when she saw Rick step through, his footsteps light and weary. He eyed Carl as he walked by, but quickly set his gaze on the child that lied in Reagan's arms. Rick slowed even more once he got closer to the two, his head tilting curiously at his offspring. Reagan shifted a tad uncomfortably before him, but managed to gather the courage to look him in the face with a smile, "Would you like to hold her?"
Rick nodded at her and Reagan stood up, gently beginning to hand Rick's daughter over to him. Rick leaned down a bit and slipped his hands awkwardly under the baby, Reagan holding the infants head and back once Rick got a good hold of her. Once he took her from Reagan's hands, Reagan kept the small smile on her face as she watched Rick hold his baby for the first time since she was born. The baby fussed in Rick's hands, but she soon calmed down once Rick's eyes met with hers.
Rick smiled and held the baby up in front of him, his fingers keeping her balanced in his arms. Reagan finally saw the old Rick come back; the glistening look in his eyes making her heart light up. He stared at the child in his hands warmly, and once he realized who he was holding, he gripped her tight and pressed her against his chest, finally accepting the child into his heart. His lips placed a kiss on his daughter's forehead and he gently began to rock her in his arms. Rick quietly spoke to her in hushed tones in which Reagan couldn't hear, but she knew exactly what he was doing as a happy father.
"Let's go take a walk outside." Rick said as he looked around at everyone, his gaze stopping on Reagan, "Everyone."
Reagan's heart stopped for a mere moment.
Rick turned around and began to walk towards the exit of the commons out to the prison yard. Carl and Beth were quick to follow behind him, Hershel getting to his foot and crutches. He noticed Reagan wasn't following immediate suit and narrowed his thick brows, "Everything alright, dear?"
Reagan smiled and nodded, "Yeah... I think so."
She stood to her feet and walked next to Hershel as the two headed outside behind the others. Reagan finally walked again with confidence, not the same guilt she had been for the previous couple days. She felt relief calm every nerve in her body; the acceptance Rick had given her with just that look and one simple word broke the wall of her depression.
The sun felt warm on her skin as she stepped out into the Georgian light. A small breeze wafted through the prison yard, her blonde ponytail tugged on the back of her head as the wind rushed across it. Reagan loved how renewed she felt; no longer feeling complete and utter shame for herself.
"She looks like you." Rick looked down at Carl as he and his son walked. Carl smiled and looked at his baby sister in delight, her tiny feet kicking around in the onesie she wore. Reagan took quick notice to Rick's sudden uneasiness as he handed the infant to Carl to hold, "Here... just, you got her?"
"Yep." Carl replied with a nod as he grabbed his sister out of his dads grasp.
Rick marched off towards the lower prison yard, his eyes dead set on the target before him. Reagan desperately tried to search for what he was looking at, but couldn't see from where she was standing. She followed far behind him and stopped at the top fence as he continued down the dirt road, this time, reaching down and sliding his pistol from its holster. Amongst all the Walkers that were clotting up the fences, Reagan finally deciphered what exactly Rick was becoming so alert about.
In the distance, a woman wobbled up to the fence amongst the Walkers, an orange hand basket wrapped in her fingers.
