I sat in the back seat of the car as Rick drove and Hershel sat in the passengers seat next to him. Tyrese sat on my left, and Sasha on my right. Rick had agreed to let them come back with us. Hershel reached back his hand to me, took my own in his and kissed it lightly.
"So glad you made it back to us Heather," he said, and I smiled lightly.
"What happened to the baby?" Rick asked bluntly, and my hand recoiled, smile fading quickly.
"Rick, she's obviously been through an ordeal," Hershel defended me, looking back at me over the seat from the corner of his eyes.
"I laid awake countless nights wondering what I could've done to save them, because I thought they were dead," Rick said to Hershel, addressing him like I wasn't even in the car.
"Well, she's not dead," Hershel replied, shrugging, "and the poor girl still has feelings. I saw what he did to her, and I hugged her when she cried. She left the prison, went back to the man who hurt her, all to save us; your son and daughter, my children are safe because of her,"
"Michonne and Andrea fled Woodbury with my baby- a little boy named Callum- and I haven't seen them since he was born. I told them to leave, to keep my son safe. This was the day I had him... It was 8 weeks ago. I carved tallies for each day into the bed post where I was chained. Phillip raped me again before I could even heal from having my child. 2 weeks ago, he started going out with Martinez and Shumpert more often, and I knew they were looking for Andrea and Michonne. They came back empty handed and quiet; I would sit by the window watching for hours just to make sure they came back alone. I dreaded hearing a baby screaming, or one of my friends crying out for help," As I stopped talking, I realized that the tears flowed freely down my dry cheeks, the salt from the tears burning my skin.
Sasha entwined her hand in mine, and smiled half heartedly at me, not knowing what else to say. Rick's knuckles were white where he gripped the steering wheel, and I saw the veins popping in his neck where he clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth. He turned the car smoothly into the winding, wooded road to the prison gate entrance, and I stared out of the front window, eyes trained on Daryl on his bike. The weather was changing again, I took note, as the wind stirred up mini-tornadoes of different colored leaves on the road in front of us. I saw Carl at the gate, joined by Carol, and the two worked together to open it.
As we pulled through the gate, I suddenly felt self conscious, like I was totally naked and I could feel eyes trained on me, staring at my bruises, my scars, and all of my faults laid bare. I breathed deeply, trying to steady my increasing heart rate, and as the car came to a halt in the safety of the fenced in prison yard, I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping for this feeling to subside. The sweat beaded on my forehead, and my stomach tightened and turned at the thought of seeing all of these people again. The only family I had left, besides my dad and brother, and my beautiful son. My beautiful, lost boy.
Rick got out of the car, and opened the back door. Tyrese got out first, and offered me his hand, which I took shakily with my good hand, and scooted towards the door. My right foot hit the stony ground, then my left, and Tyrese's strong arm pulled me vertical again.
"Oh my god," Maggie and Beth were there, Beth holding Judith, and the sisters clasped hands over their mouths simultaneously. Beth reached for me, pulling me into an embrace. I smelled her, a light vanilla aroma in her hair, mixed with the smell of baby. I tried to lift my arms to hug her back, but my body wouldn't listen to my brain, so I stood there in the awkward embrace for what felt like hours.
I looked at Daryl, and he had been looking at me, but looked quickly away, and went about getting items out of the side pouches of his brother's old motorcycle.
"Let's head inside," Rick said and started for the door. Carol took my hand and led me after the others, and I soon heard the familiar loud clank of the metal prison doors. I was locked in again, and I had never felt so grateful.
Daryl avoided me, and I did my best to help the others. We packed, tried to make plans for where to go next, and then argued. We needed to leave the prison within the hour and no one could think of anywhere safe to go. Of course, there was no place that was truly safe anymore.
"Everyone quiet," Rick yelled, "We need to stay here. I've been going back and forth in my head, what the fuck we should do, and I can't think of anything, nothing that would appease all of us, so we stay. We fight. He doesn't need to know Heather is here, and if we're prepared enough, maybe we can ward Woodbury off. Stay safe, just a little bit longer,"
There were a few disgruntled sighs, and Carol began to cry softly.
"I need to go anyway," I said suddenly, surprising myself, "I just need to," I said more quietly, and I picked up my backpack from the floor, still packed from my time in Woodbury. I pulled out the receiving blanket that Phillip had let me keep. It was the blanket my son was placed in as soon as he'd been born, and I breathed deeply into the thin blue fabric. My blood stained the blanket, and everyone stared, but I didn't care.
"I only- h-have one reason to be a-alive, and that is to find my ch-child," my words came in short breathed groups, and I took a breath, "Maybe you will be safe if I leave. Maybe y-you can come to an a-agreement with him," I knew this was a lie, and I could hardly make myself say it, but my instincts told me to leave before I was truly trapped, which would be soon. Maybe it was too late already.
"Last time you left me, you didn't give me no choice but to stay behind, but you're not gonna do that again. Nope, I'm comin' with you, Barbie," Daryl looked at me, eyes boring into my own, and though I scowled, we both knew he'd never stay behind. I knew suddenly why he was avoiding me; the last time I'd seen him, he'd just been shot and had begged me not to leave...and I did. My stomach turned again at the thought, and I secured the straps of my backpack, heading towards the door.
"Don't look for me. Don't think of me anymore, it'll be like I was never here," I said to the group, and headed for the door. No one said a word. Daryl followed me and took me by the arm.
"You sure?" he said under his breath, and I nodded almost invisibly.
He returned the nod and pulled open the heavy metal door, letting the bronze autumn sunlight blaze in through the doorway.
"Take the truck," Glenn said, speaking for the first time since we'd gotten home, and he tossed the keys for the silver Dodge at Daryl. I felt my lip quivering and I bolted out the door. This person that I was now was unknown to me. I couldn't control my emotions, and I'd all but lost the will to live, and living was something I'd always promised myself that I would do.
"Come on, now," Daryl had come out and beckoned me to the truck, where he lifted me up by the waist, and I could see his small eyes widen as he realized the extent of my weight loss. He set me down on the truck's passenger seat.
"When did you eat last?" he asked me, and I shook my head at him,
"I'm not hungry anymore, I can't make myself eat," I said, and pulled my knees up to my chest, resting my chin on my left knee cap. In truth, to keep lactating, I'd been forcing down saltines and water whenever I could, and so far I hadn't dried up.
I stared out the window as Daryl started the truck and began the descent down the path towards the road. He hopped out to open the gate, and after we'd gone through, he locked it again. We sped off down the road, and as I looked in the rearview mirror, I saw the shadow of the prison, clouded by the dust that the big tires kicked up.
"We should try the farm," I said, and this earned a look from Daryl.
"Maybe Andrea and Michonne went there with Callum, and they're waiting it out there, waiting for me. It's the only place that I can think of Daryl," I said, grasping my hair and pulling in frustration.
"Okay, okay, we'll check it out," and I could see in his eyes that he was scared of what would happen when we found out where Callum and his guardians were.
We rode in silence and the sights became more familiar, besides with the difference in season. I still remembered some of the cars on the highway into Atlanta. As we came to the turn off for the desolate road to the farm, I found myself saying, "Please, please, please," quietly.
The sun had receded behind the clouds, which grew bigger and turned a nasty shade of gray. We drew closer to the fence lining Hershel's property, and through the light fog that laid on the ground, signaling rain was imminent, I spotted the white house, still looking pristine, despite the carnage around the land. There were bodies strewn still from the night when they were overrun, and as we pulled up to the door, I saw Dale's camper, still and untouched, sitting alone by the remnants of the burned barn. I was seeing, and I mean truly seeing, everything, all the destruction for the first time. I had been so preoccupied at the time, that I had chosen to block out my surroundings and fight to survive; nothing more.
"Come with me. I don't want to leave you out here," Daryl said to me, and after exiting the truck, he came around to my side and helped me down, steadying me on my feet. I left my bag on the seat of the car, and let Daryl take my hand as he led me towards the house.
The place had apparently ceased to be of any interest to walkers, since there had been no life for a long time. As we climbed the stairs to the porch, we continued looking around, and Daryl opened the front door, which had not been locked, but was latched. Upon entering, we saw the digital analog clock in the kitchen was still lit up and cast an eery glow across surfaces in the darkening kitchen. The power was still on; I heard the refrigerator running, and there was heat coming from the baseboard heaters. It was still warm enough out that heat wasn't necessary, but feeling it coming from the vents was comforting and made me think of normal times.
Daryl opened the freezer and found an old Lean Cuisine meal, and holding it up, he tore off the packaging and put it in the microwave for 3 minutes.
"I'm making you eat," he said to me, and we sat at the kitchen table. I clicked my long nails on the wooden surface, and watched his face change as he became irritated from the sound.
"Quit it," he said, and scowled over at me.
I licked my lips and scowled back as the microwave timer rung out.
"I'm gonna go check upstairs. Eat this," he said to me, getting to his feet and placing the microwaved meal in front of me. It was an egg white, sausage and cheese sandwich, and honestly didn't look or smell that bad. He disappeared around the high doorway and I heard his footsteps as he ascended the stairs, quickly, yet pretty quietly. I picked apart the sandwich and took a bite of the tough bread, chewing incessantly but seemingly getting nowhere. I got up to look in the freezer for ice cubes, and sure enough found them. They were the ones Maggie and I had boiled water for, such a long time ago.
""Clear," I heard Daryl call, and I nodded, figuring that if anyone else were in the house, we would have heard them right away.
"Eat the sausage," I said to him, sucking on an ice cube, as he came back in the room, and I dangled the rubbery sausage patty in his face.
I had eaten bits of the egg white with cheese, and both pieces of bread. I hadn't had an appetite in forever, but surprisingly, I didn't feel sick yet.
He took the patty and wiggled it around, scrunching up his nose.
"Ah can make you some real meat. Squirrel. Deer. Even a possum is better than this crap," he said, biting into the sausage warily. I could tell he was not enjoying the experience by the way he chewed slowly.
"You need to eat as much as I do," I said, and got to my feet, "I'm gonna get in the bath," I went on, and hobbled off towards the stairs.
"I'll wait here for you...to keep watch," he said, and looked over at me.
"Come up with me," I said, smiling lightly, temporarily blocking out the sadness. If anything, I wanted to just feel Daryl; remember his body and the way he looks, and smells. I could never be afraid of him, and that's what was different this time; I knew who had hurt me, and it was one man, a man the opposite of the man that I knew I loved with my entire heart.
He got to his feet and followed me silently.
I entered the bathroom and looked in the mirror, wincing at the monster staring back at me. I felt my cheeks, which were hollowed out and elongated, and I turned away from myself, squeezing my eyes shut.
I turned on the bath and felt the water; not steaming hot anymore, but warm enough to tolerate. I removed my shirt and tossed it in a heap on the floor. After struggling to remove my boots and socks, I dropped my shorts and kicked them into the pile with the other clothes. I leaned over the tub, tucking a greasy tuft of hair behind my ear, and searched for the lavender Yardley's soap that I had used last time I was here. I found it and held it under the running water, creating a few bubbles in the water. The scent of lavender filled the small space, and as the tub finished filling and I switched off the water, I climbed over the edge of the tub, sitting gently, and groaning as the water penetrated every inch of my skin. I dunked my head under the water and emerged, wiping my eyes, and I just laid there, staring out of the bathroom at Daryl, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, crossbow in hand, watching me intently.
"Can I come in? I'll wash ya and give you one of mah famous shoulder rubs," Daryl said quietly, and my heart felt a familiar but long lost flutter of anticipation.
I nodded, still looking at him over the edge of the tub, and he got to his feet, making his way slowly into the bathroom.
"Wait up," he remembered and picked up his bow again, walking over to the window to check outside.
"We still good. The engine in the truck didn't even bring any in," he said, and came back to me. He removed his vest and sat down next to the tub, looking at me more intently than he ever had before.
"Why're you looking at me like that?" I asked him, feeling exposed again, and I pulled my knees into my chest, bowing to the insecurities and demons that plagued me.
"You're jus' the most beautiful person I know," he said to me, and a little bit of color came to his cheeks.
"You're only saying that to convince yourself that I'm not a walker," I said, half jokingly.
"Ahm serious Heather. I've never been more attracted to you than I am right now. There's this buzzin' in my head, it's makin' me fuzzy, and all I can think of, smell, see, is you, and all that time you were gone, those thoughts and that buzzin' feeling kept me goin'," his words jumbled, but they were sincere, and I sat up, facing away from him.
"How 'bout that massage?" I asked him softly, and I heard him straighten up, and I braced myself for his fingers touching my shoulders, which they did, but his touch calmed me; I sunk into his fingers as they expertly traced the outline of my shoulder blades and he pressed in just the right places, making me groan with pleasure.
"That okay?" he asked, and I nodded, rolling my neck back and forth as he rubbed.
"I missed you," I said to him, leaning my head down to my shoulder and I caught his hand there, kissing the top of it as a tear fell from my eye.
"Never coulda missed me as much as I missed you," he said to me, with a confidence he didn't usually display.
No words were spoken as Daryl reached under the vanity to get the shampoo, and he squirt some into his hands, rubbing together and massaging it into my hair. He started at the roots and used his nails on my scalp gently. Goosebumps rose on my skin and I shivered. I looked up at him and he motioned for me to lay back, which I did and the shampoo rinsed out of my considerably thinner hair with ease.
"I'll wait in bed while you hop in quick...you need a bath," I said to him, smirking, and he helped me to my feet, handing me a towel, which I wrapped around myself. I started heading for the bed, but stopped and turned back to him, leaning against the door frame. He removed his clothes and stepped into the water, moaning as I had when the water covered his skin.
"All I need's a cigarette," he said, eyes closed and smirk on his face.
I just smiled and sat on the edge of the bed, watching him. He laid only a minute longer, and sat up, grabbing the soap from the holder and lathering his underarms, chest and face, then his arms, and he reached for the shampoo, putting only a small amount in his shaggy hair. He scrubbed, and I couldn't help but smile as I saw his whole face; no hair in the way, no dirt, no scowl. He was beautiful.
He suddenly slipped below the water, and after a few splashing noises, he resurfaced, having rinsed all of the soap off.
"Can I use your towel?" he asked me, getting to his feet, and stepping onto the floor.
I nodded and waited for him to come out of the bathroom. I climbed into the king bed, and nestled under the covers. I then handed him the towel, watching as he dried his hair first, then his face, and he continued down, wrapping the towel around his waist.
"We should get going," he said to me, looking around, seemingly uncomfortable.
"We're fine," I said, "unless you really can't stand to be alone with me.
"I want nothing more than to be alone with you," he said to me, almost glaring at me.
He went to the window and looked out, hawk eyes scanning for anything out of the ordinary. After he'd finished looking, he came back over beside me, and I nestled into the pillow further, peeking out at him over the down comforter.
I reached down, making sure he saw the outline of my hand moving to my groin. It had been so long since I felt anything, let alone arousal. I looked into his eyes as my fingers met with my swollen center and I moaned, pressing my head back further and gritting my teeth. I rubbed in a circular motion, and waited for his reaction.
He sat on the bed next to me, and slowly began to pull the comforter down, exposing my engorged breasts, and my nipples hardened from the sudden burst of cool air that penetrated my cocoon of warmth.
"Can I?" he asked me, and I didn't care what he wanted, I nodded furiously, and I felt his hands squeeze my breasts. He stopped, looking at me, confused.
"They're hard. Do they hurt?" he asked me, and I shook my head.
"It's just milk. I haven't dried up yet in hopes that I'll have a chance to feed the baby," I said, "but no, they don't hurt, Daryl. I'm fine, keep going," I said, trying to draw my mind away from Callum.
"You're leaking," he said to me, and I felt the warm liquid trail down my sides.
"I'm fine," I said, "if anything, it's relief," and I continued rubbing myself. Daryl pulled the comforter as far as my pubic hair and paused.
"Don't stop," I said to him, and he obliged by exposing the most sensitive part of me to the cool air of the room. I knew he was watching, and I inserted a finger into myself, hissing quietly.
I felt him move on the bed, and I looked at him, his eyes locked on the finger that probed inside.
"I want you," he said, and removed his towel, moving slowly towards me.
"I want you too," I gasped as I removed my finger.
"Let me taste you," he said, and took my finger in his hand, placing it in his mouth. He sucked gently, and pulled me to a sitting position.
"Can you get on my lap?" he asked me, and I nodded. He was sitting indian style, his member protruding fiercely, and I straddled his lap, feeling his warmth radiate at my opening.
"Are you sure?" he whispered, the head of his penis probing my clit, drawing closer to the wet slit he yearned for .
"Yes, yes, I'm sure! Please!" I screamed in pleasure as he entered me; it was slow and torturous, in the best way possible, every nerve ending on high alert. I was seeing spots before his length even entered me fully.
I lost control of my legs and sat on his lap fully, my toes curling into his back as he rocked me back and forth. I leaned into him and smelled the faint cigarette on his breath, the breath which came in short puffs, and he reached around, cupping my buttocks in his strong hands. I wrapped my arms around his waist, and snaked up his back, my hands outstretched on his shoulder blades.
I could feel the faint bumps of the scars from his father, and I felt our imperfections melt into each other, into this big, imperfect, ball of flesh, scarred and marred by life, but still alive and still capable of feeling such unimaginable pleasure, from only each other. I looked into his eyes; pupils dilated, icy blue and staring back at me, past my eyes, straight into my very core. My limbs tingled in anticipation of the impending pleasure.
He picked up the pace, and I leaned into his neck, biting softly at his ear lobe, and as my thoughts ran rampant, my orgasm hit, like a crashing wave on the side of an unforgiving cliff, sharp and powerful, yet cleansing and satisfactory in every way. As the throbbing in my center slowed, I felt him swell, and his breaths hitched as he jerked and twitched.
"Oh Daryl," I groaned.
He began to fall backwards onto the bed, and I fell on top of him, leaning down to kiss him frantically. Our lips met, and he kissed me, deep breaths forced out in between our tongues dancing together.
"I love you so much," he gasped, and I nodded, replying in a muffled voice,
"I love you too," and I collapsed on top of him, kissing his chest. I removed his softening member from me and fell next to him, staring up at the ceiling. I looked over at him,
"Holy shit," he said, and cracked a half smile, showing off those sharp canines I hardly got to see.
"I agree," I said, and closed my eyes, trying to calm my fast beating heart.
After a moment of post-coital bliss, we both heard a noise; a faint clattering from below, and a woman speaking, followed by a curse word.
"Andrea, come help me out!" It was Michonne's voice.