"I am not sticking around another second in this place with him under the same roof and putting Eugene's life in jeopardy. The whole goddamn world in jeopardy!"
"You're not taking the bus!"
"We're not leaving until we get Carol and Beth back!"
"You don't even know where they are or if they're still alive!"
Yet another day had passed and it left Gareth wondering why he was even still alive. The threat of it all just seemed to wash away, becoming mundane. He hadn't been allowed to move from his spot, wrists still secured behind him and keeping him fastened to the banister. It made sleeping a little difficult. The added pain pulsating in his shoulder didn't help—nor did his empty stomach or parched mouth.
Rick's group did their best, for the most part, at keeping everything hush hush. Gareth didn't know any real details of their talks. The latest had him questioning who Beth was, and why they were arguing over a bus. If he didn't know any better, he'd guess that the previous conversations he was able to slightly overhear actually did involve him. Daryl and Maggie wanted him alive. And the priest did, too. What he didn't know was why. They had no reason to sort of defend him.
Gareth perked up at the creaking of the office door opening, turning his head to see the priest exiting the room. Everyone seemed to always hide outside and out of sight, probably so what conversations they did have, he didn't hear them. So it was almost a relief to see someone.
"Hey, Father. Missing out on all the fun," Gareth commented, nodding his head towards the front.
The man only stared back at him, frozen. Looked almost like he'd seen a ghost. Apparently Gareth had that effect on him. Especially when he made any sort of acknowledgment.
Gareth's eyes followed him as the man cleared his throat, adjusting his collar. He started walking for the doors himself before Gareth added, fidgeting: "Help me out here, Father. You gotta let me go... You know if you don't, they'll kill me. Rick will kill me. And that'll be on you."
It got his attention.
The priest stopped in his tracks and lowered his head. Contemplating, or so it seemed. He backtracked after a brief moment, making his way back towards his little office. Somewhere in the vicinity behind Gareth and out of sight.
He came back with a half-empty bottle of water.
"It's... all I have to offer."
Gareth raised an eyebrow. "I appreciate the thought, but unless you're gonna feed me like a baby, my hands are a little tied."
"I—" he stammered, "I cannot..."
"You can't trust me. I get it." Gareth looked him over. Wondered why the man found it necessary to still wear that godawful attire, seeing as the world ended. Regardless, he shrugged it off. Furrowed his brow. "You got a name?"
"Gabriel. Gabriel Stokes." He slightly spun the bottle in his hands, twisting it around, the plastic crinkling obnoxiously. Nervous.
"Well, Gabriel... Seeing as you're about the only one here who isn't an asshole... Thanks."
Gareth snapped his head in the direction of a new squeak in the floorboards, little coos echoing off the walls. Rick's kids. They must have been hiding in the back too. He locked eyes with Carl for a fleeting moment. The kid was definitely working on that same menacing glare as Rick. Like father like son.
"Why are you talking to him?" Carl looked to the priest. Judith was occupied with her fist in her mouth, drooling all over the place. And even she looked at Gareth funny, her little features all scrunched up.
"He's a man of God. Isn't it his duty to provide a dying guy a bit of comfort, even if the gestures are out of fear?" Gareth smirked. Maybe if he continued to be hellbent on being an asshole himself, it could speed things along. He wasn't getting anywhere playing nice. And evoking something such as fear, no matter who it was, could always prove to be entertaining.
"Not for you." Carl adjusted Judith in his arms, hiking her up a little further against his chest. "You're just another bad guy. And we're not afraid of you."
"Aren't we all? Can't really classify a person as solely bad though."
"You tried to kill us. And you ate Bob's leg—"
"Enough. Please." Gabriel raised both his hands in the air. If Gareth wasn't mistaken, he seemed a bit woozy at that last remark. "Just leave him be. You're only instigating."
Gareth stared down at the floor beside him. He couldn't help but grin in the slightest with Gabriel seemingly taking his side again. The Grimes family shot down again. What was that saying? Enjoy the simple things in life?
He certainly took pleasure in seeing the spawn of Rick Grimes stalk across the church with a new, sullen demeanor. Like a dog with his tail between his legs.
Of course, that miniature swell of pride left just as fast as it came.
The moment Carl opened those doors to go outside, Rick was in sight. Even from that distance Gareth could feel his piercing eyes practically burning a hole through him.
Rick turned his attention away, back to whomever he was directing his words to as he pointed inside the church. "He knows, right? It's the reason we're keeping him alive? He'll take us to them. Then we go to Washington."
Abraham blocked the doorway just long enough before he closed the doors, shutting Gareth out of their meeting once again.
It took him another moment longer before he realized Gabriel left too, apparently retreating into his office again.
Gareth sighed, slightly clonking his head against the banister. At this rate, he'd die of boredom before starvation. And he'd die of starvation before Rick would ever follow through with his threat.
The reverberating sounds of footsteps reappeared as Gareth turned his head. Gabriel decided to come back. Only this time, his arms were full in comparison to the measly water bottle he had previously. He registered what some of the stuff was the priest carried—gauze, bandages, a bottle of what looked to be whiskey. The fact that the man even had alcohol lying around in his church was thought-provoking.
Gareth shook his head the second it all clicked. "Not gonna happen. Save it, you'll need the supplies."
"It's my church. And these are my supplies." Gabriel set the few items down on the floor next to Gareth. "So they are my supplies to waste, if that is the case."
"Does common sense go right over your head? Unless you let me go, I'm dead.What's the point? Just save it." There was no way he'd let Gabriel touch his shoulder. If it were up to him, no one would be coming anywhere near it, let alone trying to "patch it up". But he really didn't have any power over the situation other than his words. Unfortunately, with where Gabriel took a knee beside him, it left Gareth with no way of being able to kick him.
Gabriel chose to ignore him. For being awful cowardly minutes earlier, he sure seemed to grow a pair out of thin air.
"...Do you not want the help?"
Gareth slowly averted his attention back to the man. He hadn't realized he had brought his knees in as close as possible, having shut his eyes and rested his head on the banister again. Gabriel was staring, his eyes flitting over Gareth—reading his body language, apparently. Gareth felt as though he resembled a pouting child, but there was a hint of concern in Gabriel's features.
His voice fell flat, "Just leave me alone."
Not only did he feel like a pouting child, Gabriel probably took him as bipolar or something. For all Gareth knew, he could be. There was a part of him that actually wanted someone around earlier. Just somebody's presence nearby so that he wasn't alone. And now, if he could, he would have kicked Gabriel just to get him away.
"You... mumble in your sleep," Gabriel paused. He sat down on the floor completely now, legs folded in front of him. Like it was story time. "It's none of my business—"
"You're right. It's not," Gareth retorted, malice in his voice. How was it that the priest became the most irritating of all? He didn't want help. Never asked for it. He certainly didn't want anyone prying. When they stumbled upon Rick's group outside of Terminus, after everything was gone, Gareth thought he wanted revenge. Truth was, maybe he knew they'd all be killed. Maybe he gave up.
Maybe it was just the easy way out.
Terminus was gone. Alex. Their mom. Revenge wasn't going to bring any of that back. And had he stopped putting up walls, stopped shutting them out, maybe he wouldn't have felt so shitty for how things ended. His last words to Alex were something along the lines of "it's okay" and "shut up". And he might have been able to save their mom.
What a great brother and son he turned out to be.
"I—I just want to help." Gabriel placed a hand over his chest, taken aback.
Gareth shut his eyes, almost twitching with impatience. He felt overcome with a mix of emotions. A lot of it he had just kept bottled up over time. Over days, weeks, months. Anger, grief. Frustration. And Gabriel was stirring the pot.
Before he could snap, there were rushed footsteps clicking across the floor off to Gareth's right. He glanced over to find Sasha covering her mouth, her face tear-streaked, heading for the exit.
Gareth met Gabriel's stare and nodded his head in Sasha's direction. "Go."