A/N: Thank you to those who reviewed the last chapter; I've responded personally to each of them, aside from the non-member ones, which are below. Remember guys, reviewing keeps me updating. Anything you want to see? Anything I can improve on? Anything that I'm doing well? Let me know! I thrive on your feedback.
On another note, I've recently come up with an idea for a Boondock Saints story, which I will be starting after this is finished. However, I will be returning to school this coming Monday, the 16th, with classes starting the day after. For the first week of classes, I should be able to stick to my daily updates, but the following week, when things really kick into gear with studying and whatnot, I'm going to have to come up with an updating schedule, depending on how busy I am. I'm hoping to have this story in its entirety typed out by either the end of next week or the week after. Like I said, it really depends on how busy I am.
SaraBear: Thank you for your review! Like I said, I didn't want to have like, two chapters just talking about Leigh being on her own for three weeks or so because readers would lose interest fast. With Daryl and Leigh, I'm trying to keep things moving slowly because a lot of the FF I've read includes the two just jumping into bed/love with one another, and that's not how I work when I tell romances.
Soup: Thank you for letting me know about that mistake. I've fixed it now :]
Leigh didn't sleep well that night, if at all. The events of earlier had thrown themselves on a loop in her head. The snapping jaws of the walkers, the coiling fingers, the tattered clothing… Leigh tossed and turned in that small bunk, and once she woke herself up with a small whine of complaint before falling back asleep.
Leigh, Andrea, and Carol were sorting through dirty laundry: men's clothes in one pile and women's in another. Carl was with Lori, who was attempting to teach him math, and he wasn't was having it. He was swatting at flies around his head, looking elsewhere, anything to distract him from the problems in front of him. Lori had snapped at him a few times to get him to pay attention.
And then everything just stopped. The gargles and moans were all too real despite Leigh's brain telling her it was her imagination. No one spoke as the group leaped into action, and Leigh dove for the axe that Shane had used earlier to chop up more firewood. The man himself was too busy shielding Lori and Carl from the walkers, who had Leigh in their sights as she drew them away from the group. Her body was moving on its own volition; not a single thought passed through Leigh's head. Only adrenaline and fear for the people she'd come to call a family threw her into action.
One walker was slower than the other, so she took out the faster of the two, lopping one of its legs off at the knee to slow it down before driving the axe into its skull.
The second came far too close for her liking, and she let out an almost animalistic yowl as she swung the axe downward, embedding the blade into the brain. The walker fell limply, landing on the ground with an unattractive thud. Leigh stood panting over the bodies, and then the shock set in just as everyone came running over. Carol and Lori had stayed by her side to make sure that she was all right, but almost immediately after they'd put their arms around her, she began trembling at the sudden lack of adrenaline.
At some point in the night, she was woken so many times that she gave up on sleep entirely. Knowing she'd regret it in the morning, Leigh slid on her boots and headed outside to the fire, the blanket once again wrapped around her shoulders. She pulled out the pack of cigarettes in her pocket and plopped down on the cooler Daryl had occupied at dinner. She lit up and took her time smoking, letting the nicotine float around in her lungs and head before exhaling.
Shane was keeping watch on top of the RV, and he'd seen Leigh come out of her cabin. He sniffed in disdain and looked out into the trees, half-bathed in the glow from the moonlight. No matter how many walkers she killed, to him she'd still be an extra mouth to feed—and Dixon, as well.
Leigh knew Shane was watching her and it made her uncomfortable. She'd accepted the fact that Shane neither liked nor accepted her in the group, but he could at least have the decency to be subtle about it like Daryl had been.
Daryl. His name sounded funny in her head. There was no definition of Daryl Dixon; sure, he was the typical, hot-headed redneck who liked to smoke, drink, and curse to his heart's content. But he spoke to Leigh so differently than he did the others; when he spoke to Rick or Dale or Glenn, his voice was gruff and short. With Shane, Daryl was almost always yelling and cursing. But with Leigh, he spoke softly, as if she were a nervous foal. While she didn't complain that he was relatively civil towards her, she wondered why he suddenly underwent an attitude change. When they'd first met, he was so put off by her presence that he never spoke to her unless it was to call her useless. Now, he'd taken the time to make sure she was all right—especially tonight after the incident with Shane.
Leigh laughed lightly to herself. The apocalypse had arrived and she was still having guy trouble.
When Shane climbed down off the RV to switch shifts, he didn't look in Leigh's direction at all. Leigh did the same, staring blankly off into the flames until Andrea emerged from the cabin she shared with Dale. The blonde caught sight of Leigh sitting by the fire and smiled lightly.
"Care to join me on watch?" Nodding, Leigh pushed off the cooler and followed Andrea to the roof of the RV. Once they were seated, Andrea spoke again. "So what made you act this time instead of freezing up? Not that I'm complaining or picking on you…"
Leigh smiled. "No, I know. And to be honest, I really don't know. I guess it was just…fear. Pure fear and adrenaline. I wasn't thinking at all, didn't give myself time to. I just moved. I guess it just took me a while to understand that that's all you can do out here. Act first, think later. Thinking will get you killed."
"You sound like Shane," noted Andrea darkly. Leigh met her eyes and Andrea looked away. "He wasn't right about you tonight, you know."
Nodding, Leigh replied, "That's what Daryl said too. But I can't help but think that maybe he was. Is. Is right about me. I mean, it's not the normal world we're used to anymore. There are things hunting us, wanting to kill us. I guess I was just stuck with the idea that, yeah, we were just a big group of people trying to make ends meet. Now, after today, I know that we're running, surviving. It's strange. I've killed a walker before—in the department store when I met Rick and the guys. But that was the only one. I spent more time hiding and running than I did fighting."
Andrea let her words sink in before nodding. "Men like Shane, they're made for this world. Rick and Shane and even Daryl…they're used to killing. The rest of us never even knew how to fire a gun until now. Sure, my dad gave me one when Amy and I took our road trip, but I'd never learned how to properly load and shoot it. Never thought I'd have to. Until now. Shane, he's got it in his head that everyone is supposed to be made of stone, that weakness will get you killed out here. But not everyone is like him. I'm not. You're not like him. Regardless of what he thinks, it's okay to break down and cry sometimes when everything gets too hard, and don't you dare for a minute ever think that Shane has any idea about how strong or how weak you are. You've survived this long, haven't you? That tells me you're damn strong enough."
Leigh had tears in her eyes by the time Andrea was finished, and after a moment's thought, she knew Andrea was right. Shane was a bully, even when the world had gone to shit. He thrived off bringing others down, trying to make them "see the light" that the world they lived in was dangerous. While she agreed that it was, Leigh didn't agree that everyone had to be cold and hard like stone, like Shane.
"Thank you, Andrea," murmured Leigh as she wiped her eyes. Andrea nodded and smiled as Leigh stood up. "Think I ought to get to bed. Today wore me out. Goodnight. And thank you, again."
"Don't mention it, Leigh." Leigh smiled once more at Andrea before she climbed down the ladder and headed over to her cabin.
Leigh was the last to wake up the next day, though, after the events of the night before, no one blamed her. Shane was still huffy, stomping around the camp like a two-year-old throwing a temper tantrum, and he avoided her altogether. Leigh had no problem whatsoever with it and since Daryl had taken an early hunting trip, postponing their crossbow lessons, Leigh went with Lori and Carol to search for a water source for laundry.
They came across a pond in the middle of the woods, a few miles north of their encampment. It looked promising enough; the bottom was clear enough that Leigh and the others could tell it wasn't ridden with algae and bugs and who knew what else. Unloading the laundry buckets from the back of Shane's SUV—which he'd grudgingly leant to them—Leigh plopped down between Lori and Carol as they began sorting through the clothes.
"So Leigh," said Lori, and immediately Leigh bristled, recognizing the tone in the brunette's voice straight away. "Anythin' goin' on with you and the younger Dixon brother?"
"No. Why do you ask?" Leigh wasn't lying; nothing more than a small friendship had formed between Leigh and Daryl, and as far as she was concerned, that was all there was to it.
"Well, how can I put this? You seemed to have tamed the woodsman, my fair lady," Carol joked, spurring the other two into raucous laughter.
"What? Are you both off your rockers? Daryl and I are nothing more than civil to one another."
Lori scoffed, "Please. I see the way he looks at you." She smirked when she saw the interest on Leigh's face. "Tell me you've never noticed it."
"Well, of course not," Carol chirped, leaning forward to see Lori. "They never do!"
"And what way, my dear Lori, might he be lookin' at me?" Leigh interjected before the two women could rant as if she weren't there between them.
"Oh please. He's completely ga-ga for you. The way he jumped to your defense last night."
"And then went to check on you," reminded Carol.
"Any of you would have done the same thing!" Leigh argued, gesturing with her hands.
"That's exactly our point, Leigh. Daryl doesn't do those things! For anyone!"
"Except you." Carol emphasized her point by tapping Leigh on the nose.
"I assure you, nothing is going on between me and Daryl Dixon." Leigh dropped her head as she scrubbed one of the men's shirts on the washboard.
"Oh come on, you can't tell me you don't at least find him attractive? I mean, he's decent looking and he's got some really nice arms…"
"All right, all right. I know what you're doing," laughed Leigh. Lori and Carol chuckled beside her. "Okay, so I guess he is a bit attractive. And he knows his way around the woods. Oh stop." Carol began wagging her eyebrows suggestively at Leigh's latter comment and snorted with laughter when she'd been caught.
"So you do like him!" Lori surmised with a knowing smirk.
"I didn't say that! I can be attracted to someone without liking him!" Lori and Carol exchanged eye rolls. "Besides, I don't even know anything about him except his last name!"
"All right, whatever you say, Leigh." Huffing, Leigh returned to her work, as did the other two, but they wore matching knowing smiles.
Leigh allowed her thoughts to plague her as she washed. She admitted to herself the night before that Daryl had treated her differently from anyone else. But that couldn't possibly mean he liked her, did it? He could have just been pitying her for her bad luck of being the one Shane always picked on. The way he treated her didn't mean anything.
But did she like him? Hell, she sure found him attractive. Four inches taller than her, he was a spectacle. Tanned skin, bright blue eyes, messy sandy blonde hair that always looked unkempt from running his fingers through it. His fingers. Long and nimble, they were a hunter's fingers. They worked easily when they were loading a crossbow or gutting an animal. And his arms. Not heavily muscled but toned nonetheless. His chest was broad and his stomach flat. From the times he didn't button his shirts all the way up, Leigh had noticed a sprinkle of dirty blonde hair on his chest, as well as a nasty scar stretching from one pectoral to the other. It piqued her interest, but a scar like that probably came with a long, sad story and Leigh more than once got the feeling that Daryl Dixon was a man of few words.
The women drove back to camp silently; Lori and Carol had long abandoned their teasing of Leigh, who was still submerged in her thoughts. They hung up the laundry on the line as Daryl returned with his catch of the day—a handful of squirrels and a couple rather large rabbits. Leigh casually glanced over at him, sitting in front of the fire as he dressed each animal for cooking. Her cheeks flushed and she averted her gaze when he looked up and caught her staring.
Lori and Carol exchanged smirks once again, but they kept their mouths shut. They finished the laundry and Leigh walked over to Carl, who was working on some homework Lori had given him.
"Hey bud, how's it going?" she asked as she squatted beside him. He shrugged lazily as he bit the end of his pencil in thought. "Anything I can help with?"
"I miss her," he suddenly said, staring so hard and meaningfully into Leigh's eyes that it almost knocked her on her ass. A frown creased her face as she ran a hand over the boy's hair idly.
"I know, Carl. I do too." Next thing she knew Carl's arms were around her neck, hugging her tightly, and hers were around his tiny frame. He was crying into his shoulder and Leigh wagered that he'd been trying to stay strong for the group, refusing to break down in front of anyone.
The boy's mental strength never ceased to shock the hell out of Leigh, but she felt sympathetic that Carl would never have a real childhood. He wouldn't have birthday parties to attend for his friends, he'd never get to join the little league baseball team. He was forced to spend the rest of his life running and surviving. The boy had grown up far too fast for any ten-year-old.
"I'd take her place if I could," Carl sniffed. Leigh drew back and held his shoulders at arms' length.
"Don't you ever say that, Carl. Never. It was tragic what happened to Sophia, and no one, not even the worst people in the world should go through something like that. How do you think your mother would feel if she heard you say that? It's a noble thing to say, yes, but think, Carl. Your parents would be crushed, just like Carol is."
"But if I took her place then Carol wouldn't always cry herself to sleep at night. I don't like hearing her cry." Leigh smiled and brushed the boy's back from his forehead.
"Sophia was very, very lucky to have a friend like you. I'm very lucky to have a friend like you. You're very wise for your age, and it's not fair that you and Sophia never got a real childhood. Now, how about you help me get some firewood for tonight?" He wiped his eyes and nodded.
"Lori?" Leigh called as she straightened. The petite brunette looked over at the call of her name. "Is it all right if Carl helps me with some firewood? His math problems look good." Lori nodded with a smile and Carl skipped off ahead of Leigh to get started gathering wood.
"Don't go too far, hear?"
Picking up the axe for both chopping wood and defense, Leigh balanced it on her shoulder as she followed Carl into the woods. He was standing by a dead tree, pointing at it excitedly.
"Is this one good?" he asked with a smile. Returning it, Leigh nodded.
"It sure is. Back up now while I chop it down." Carl backed up about twenty feet and Leigh raised the axe, swinging it hard against the bark. The dried wood snapped easily on the first swing, and the tree came tumbling down into the leaves.
"All right bud, can you drag this sucker back to camp?" Carl nodded and picked up the chopped end of the small tree. Carl started off towards camp, easily dragging the tree behind him as Leigh headed in the opposite direction.
That was how it went until the sun began to set; Leigh had chopped down a total of six dead trees and Carl was a trooper and dragged back each and every one on his own. Lori watched her son proudly as Leigh placed a skinnier tree on a mounting log and the ten-year-old promptly jumped up and down on the tree until it snapped in half. He continued with the routine until a pile of foot-long logs sat next to the fire.
"I should have you help me with firewood more often, little man," Leigh joked as she ruffled Carl's hair. The little boy jerked away from her hand but smiled as he chewed his food. Dinner was uneventful; Shane kept his comments to himself—though every time someone said something he didn't agree with, he scowled at his plate—and Daryl had kept his distance.