A/N: I loved having new source material for the new episodes of Walking Dead. I read some reviews that the episode was boring, but my take was that the premiere really NEEDED two hours to reset the landscape. If you look back at season one, it took a good few episodes to set the landscape. And season two and three it took the time. But other AMC premieres have done the two hour premiere, and for the network's top rated series, it was worthy of such an effort. I felt like I was getting a tidbit her and a tidbit there, everywhere a tidbit. To let me know how my favorites had fared. But the most substantial things that happened to promote the storyline? In a nutshell, wasn't it Patrick's and Violet's death?
Given what the actor have promised, I am so IN.
I would beg for reviews, but I cannot in good conscience. I read stories all the time on my phone (where I also write, my work blocks the site) and often cannot take the time to review. So if you just follow, I am stoked. Reviews are always preferred though, but I understand.
Would love to hear your comments on the new season, regardless of my story!
So here is my take on 'Secrets Get You Killed"
btw - I am updating Learning to LIve.
And for all the newbies: Thank you so much for your support. I write this for me, but it is so amazing when others enjoy and feel likewise!
Emory was beyond exhausted after today's drama. Between the discovery and subsequent deaths of three prisoners, Lori and Carl's bitter sniping, Hershel getting bit, and now she was at odds with Daryl...it was all too much
Emory stripped naked and tilted her head back and sighed with pleasure under the tiny RV shower as the warm water trickled over her bare skin. Emory washed and shampooed and shaved until eventually, Emory reluctantly climbed out of the tiny cubicle and slipped on a clean t-shirt. Only then did she stare at herself in the vanity mirror. Only then, did she begin practicing, the way she had fresh out of Quantico.
"So Daryl?...did you go to Rick?" Emory initially tried out. "No, that's weak," she admonished.
"So Daryl, were you gonna tell that went to Rick? No, that puts him on the defensive. How about, Daryl are you responsible...? No, No, No," Emory bowed her head and tried again to clear her mind.
She knew Daryl was pissed at her but she was probably even more pissed at him. It felt awful. It felt wrong. Unnatural. She hated it. It felt like she was missing a part of herself. But this couldn't go on. Not with lives at stake.
"Suck it up girl," Emory gave herself a final pep talk and, head held high she prepared herself to have it out with Daryl.
TWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWD
Emory steathily made her way through the dark prison corridors, with only the dimmed lantern glow from the few who were still awake to light her way. But upstairs was completely dark, yet she knew the way by heart.
"Hey," Emory whispered quietly as she leaned against door to watch him. Daryl took a moment to glance up at her for a second, but then just as quickly, he looked away. Instead, he resumed throwing that little bouncy superball up at the ceiling ...over and over again.
Emory tried to ignore his coldness, but it was hard and it hurt. This was new territory for her too. She'd never been on more than three dates with the same man much less lived with a man. Plus, she'd been mad at him first. Who the hell did he think he was to be mad at her now. To try and poach her 'mad'.
But he was looking especially 'hot & fine' right now... the way the golden glow from the lantern illuminated the chiseled lines of his body. Emory decided to abandon her old plan and swiftly formulated a new one.
"Whatever," she ignored his mood. And with slow precise movements Emory sauntered over to their dresser and shimmied out of her tight yoga pants, watching from the corner of her eye. He wasn't immune.
Pretending to be stiff, ...and in just her bra and panties, Emory raised her arms up over her head and arched her back. Then she squirted out some lotion and slowly massaged it into each calf, then her arms...finally rubbing the remainder onto her bare abdomen. She smiled when she heard him fumble his bouncy ball.
Emory, acting like it was just another night, crawled into bed beside him, and her smooth, bare legs strategically rubbed against his. She listened to his breathing as he continued to try and act ambivalent, but the tightening of his jaw and hitched breath told her otherwise. He still hadn't pulled her into his arms like usual, but he could have pulled away but he didn't. Emory chose to look on the bright side. But the bouncy ball was driving her nuts.
"E-fuckin-nuff," like a ninja, she reached over and snatched the ball mid air and tossed it over into his pile of socks. "Or would you rather find our what I'm THIS close to doing with that fricken' superball."
Except Daryl had no intention of letting go of his 'mad' either. As fast as she had grabbed the superball, he grabbed her. Before she knew what or how it had happened she was on her back and he was firmly on top of her. But rather than soft and loving, his face was tight and angry.
"What the fuck were ya thinkin', Em'ry? Takin' Carl and goin' off on yer own in the tombs? Not even fuckin' five minutes after Hershel got bit. And what if there were other prisners'! You have no idea what..." Daryl was still reeling from watching Rick put that machete in Tomas's head.
"What? So tell me what happened? You've all been...different," Emory cupped his face in her hands.
"Don't matter now. Christ Em! You ain't dumb. Ya know it ain't safe! How the hell am I gonna keep ya safe if yer so hell bent on gitten' yerself killed?" Daryl scolded, his agitation making him anxious.
Emory was actually rather surprised by his outburst. It had to be the most he'd ever said to her at one time. He was obviously still furious with her, but Emory could see the fear ... and caring in his eyes.
"And exactly, what is "safe" for me these days Mister Dixon? Sitting here all day in this cell? Rationing packs of Ramen Noodles? Should I start learning to knit, and ignore that I was trained to uphold the law, as well as to apprehend and kill? Should I fuckin' start learning how to darn your Goddamned socks? And who the hell said it was your responsibility to keep me safe?" Emory's rant came flooding out as she snapped, her voice getting louder and louder with every phrase.
"Shhhh, keep it down!" Daryl placed his fingertips over her lips. His blue eyes sparkled with heat and intense emotion.
"Damn You, Daryl Dixon! Don't you dare do that. Don't you dare give me THAT look! I know what you're doing," Emory accused but she still felt her bones becoming soft and malleable as she melted under his touch.
"I don't know whatcha ya talkin' 'bout," Daryl was actually starting to enjoy this. Flirting with someone he cared about. Someone who would never hurt him or use him. Knowing he had an effect on her? It has euphoric!
"Bullshit. You know exactly what you're doing! And its not fair," Emory felt herself weaken and her resolve was fading fast.
"You look at me right now Daryl Dixon! I would use your middle name if you would ever tell me what it is. You'd better damn well tell me RIGHT NOW, why you've been asking Rick to put me on the children and housewife detail?" Emory demanded but her tone was softer, adjusting to Daryl's obvious discomfort.
"Who fuckin' toldya I asked Rick? It was fuckin' Glenn, wasn't it? I'm gonna beat his ass!" Daryl pouted as he planned his retaliation.
"Ah ha! So you did go to Rick! I knew it!" Emory poked his shoulder triumphantly.
"And second, nobody told me anything so you better leave Glenn be. I was just fishing. It was YOU that confirmed!" Emory smiled, with a touch of warning in her gaze.
"Ya tricked me?" Daryl groaned in the realization that she'd just manipulated him into confessing.
"I did. But you have to stop this. I can't just walk around here while you and the others risk their lives daily." Emory pleaded with him to understand.
Daryl listened to her, but the set of his jaw told her he was digging in.
"You and I both know that I should have been with you guys today rather than Hershel," Emory saw Daryl flinch at her words.
"And if Lori goes into labor? If she or the baby dies? Can you live with that? I can't!" Emory lightly traced his cheek with her fingertips.
In lieu of responding, he pinned her wrists above her head. His blue eyes were thoughtful, staring down at her. He tried not to let it, but every so often he couldn't quite wrap his head around the fact that this gorgeous, brave, amazing woman chose him. Cared about him.
Her chestnut hair tumbled all around her pillow and he was sorely tempted to bury his fingers in the damp tendrils. And then there was her full pink lips... lips that always seemed slightly swollen. Lips that always turned him on. And then her warm, wet kisses from those very lips began moving up his neck.
"I ain't gonna let ya go jus' cuz yer doin' that," Daryl looked down at her, but his dilated pupils and increased heartbeat told her otherwise.
"I'm glad. I've always wondered about this since reading Fifty Sh ...nevermind," she purred huskily and licked the pulsing vein on his throat.
Emory moved her thighs a little further apart so Daryl could settle more comfortably. His pelvis pressed harder against hers and she felt just how "not indifferent" he was.
"But you still have to tell me why you had me benched. So either you tell me, or I will have no choice but to go to Rick myself. Why have you been treating my like I'm no more capable than a damn toddler?" Emory stopped and stared at him.
"I don't think ya ain't capable," he mumbled, but he still averted his eyes.
"If you can't or won't look me in the eyes when you tell me something, then it doesn't count," Emory pressed on, even as she continued pressing soothing kisses against his sun leathered cheek.
"I fuckin' KNOW yer capable," he growled in frustration.
"Then why? We fought together all winter," Emory asked, reaching up to brush a longish strand off his forehead.
"Dunno," Daryl suddenly look embarrassed and he closed his eyes before rolling away. To anyone else it would seem like he was pulling away or giving up. But Emory saw it as the concession it was. Revealing... opening up, at least a little.
"You don't know why?" Emory rolled over onto her side to and curled up onto him.
"Its just...ever since we started...ya know... Things have been different. I'm different. I worry about ya all the goddamned time! I cain't even stop it if I wanted to...and I hate that. I worry, what if ya weren't here at the end of the day...waitin' fer me in our bed," Daryl struggled to verbalize his deepest fears, completely unprepared for sharing.
"Daryl?" Emory's voice soothed like warm whiskey.
"Please tell me that you know, I feel the same! Except, for the fact that I can't stop YOU from constantly putting yourself at risk," Emory wrapped her arms around his taut, corded shoulders.
"Daryl, will you please stop pulling strings with Rick?" Emory slowly stroked the back of his neck, her nails causing him to shiver.
Daryl was torn and his eyes kept cutting side to side...seeking any preferable alternatives.
"Fine, for now! But if shit changes? I cain't promise I won't do it again." Daryl turned away bashfully, melting her heart yet again.
"I can live with that." Emory smiled and hugged him tightly, her exuberance catching him off guard. But her body could feel the hard outlines of his. EVERY hard outline.
"Are you very tired?" Emory held his forefinger in her mouth before slowly releasing it.
"If I'm ever too tired for you, you'd better put a bolt in my head," Daryl instanly took control and Emory's clothes were soon torn away and left for the trash heap.
TWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWD
Hours later, sore from their amazing lovemaking, Emory managed to slip out of Daryl's arms and padded downstairs and back to the RV.
She'd been terrfied for over a week now as she contemplated the impossible. They'd been careful. Sure, she didn't take the pill because it finding a supply was too eratic. But condoms? They were everywhere. Except people used to joke about expiration dates. Now they meant life and death...or new life. She'd spent the last few days debating, denying...terrified...the entire spectrum.
Now was the time! She couldn't stick her head in the sand any longer. There were other lives, other than hers, at risk.
Hidden way in the back of the vanity cupboard, way back behind the heaping supplies of tampons and pads, were a stash of pregnancy test kits...most likely Maggie had picked them up.
With just the dim night light to guide her, she skimmed the directions. Emory's hands shook as she slipped the stick from the wrapper and followed the directions. Then waited.
Emory was barely able to breathe as she sat on the toilet and waited, and watched. Emory finally forced herself to look over at the stick. Praying to any and every God Almighty, however known. Please be negative!
For a minute Emory just sat completely still, and then...after looking at the stick, she bent over and looked at the stick.
And Sobbed Alone.