"You calmed down yet?" Daryl asked, realizing that Lizzie had finally stopped beaming and humming to herself.
"You jus' verbally bitch-slapped the woman who's been givin' me hassle since she fuckin' got here," she grinned, "am I not allowed to be kinda happy about it?"
"I dunno," he shrugged as she flopped down in the chair across from him, "depends on whether or not you wanna look like a…"
"Hey, she deserved it," Lizzie snorted, "that's all I'm sayin'."
"I know she did, that's why I said it," he muttered, looking down for a second, "I don't like it when she talks to you like that, I should've said somethin' sooner but…"
"I know," she said quietly, not wanting him to feel as though he had to explain himself, "still learnin' an' all that shit right? Well, hopefully I'll do a better job of tryna show you the ropes an' figure things out."
"You're doin' good so far," he nodded, "got me beatin' on my own people, shoutin' at 'em for talkin' shit at you an' tellin' you that I…" He caught himself quickly, not wanting to say anything too much about his feelings. He saw her looking at him expectantly and he cleared his throat, frowning a little, "I could forgive you for forgettin' to mention a few things."
"One thing," she said quickly, not liking that he made it sound like she had multiple skeletons in her closet, "an' like you say, it's behind us now an' it ain't important so we can jus'… Do whatever it is that we're doin'."
"You sure there ain't anythin' else I should know?" He asked, watching as she rolled her eyes at him.
"Honestly? There's probably a ton of stuff I oughta tell you, like my star sign an' my birthday an' my favorite film… But what the fuck does it matter?" She shrugged, "None of that's important anymore."
"What is your favorite film?" He asked with a smile.
"Butch Cassidy an' the Sundance Kid," she grinned, "I used to watch it all the time an' that bit where Sundance tells Butch he can't swim… Makes me giggle jus' thinkin' about it."
"Didn't take you for a Western kinda girl." Daryl admitted, trying to picture her running around her yard wearing a cowboy hat.
"I ain't really," she wrinkled her nose, "they're too long an' mostly too borin'- 'cept the Wild Bunch, that was a fuckin' brutal film an' I loved it –but Butch an' Sundance? Good, clean, family-friendly fun," she looked at him and grinned, "besides, the old ones are always the best, right?"
"You better fuckin' believe it," he returned her grin and shook his head, "so when's your birthday?"
"What's the date today?" She asked.
"I don't fuckin' know." He shrugged.
"Well then it don't matter when my birthday is, does it?" She asked. He didn't want to admit that she had a point so he just sighed and changed the subject instead.
"What were you doin' when all this went down?" He asked, finding himself genuinely curious.
"I told you, I ran a bar with my friend an' that's where I was when all this happened," she shrugged, not wanting to go into too much detail in case the mention of Brad upset him again, "I'd jus' spent an afternoon interviewin' people an' then… Hello Zombie Apocalypse!"
"You were workin'?" He watched as she nodded, "That sucks."
"I know, right? Damn me havin' to earn a livin'," she laughed, "what about you?"
"I was out with Merle," he shrugged, "we were goin' drinkin' with some of the guys… Never made it, gotta little sidetracked by all the dead people walkin' around so we headed back up home, loaded up an' went out."
"So the end of the world happens an' you two jus' go getcha weapons an' head out to kick some ass?" She asked, smirking, "Figures."
"What's that s'posed to mean?" He asked, frowning at her.
"You're a no nonsense kinda guy," she explained, "doesn't look like much surprises you, you jus' adapt an' get on with it."
He smiled at her, wanting to tell her that the only thing that he remembers ever surprising him enough into confusion was her- he still wasn't sure if he had adapted properly to a life with her in it, he was still trying to figure out what he needed to do but at least he had her there with him to help.
"I don't think anythin' coulda prepared me for it," she admitted, twiddling her hair around her fingers absent-mindedly, "sure, I watched a lotta zombie movies an' all but I never actually thought it could happen… Even if I'd been one of those crazy people with an end of the world plan, I don't think I coulda stuck to it."
"You jus' wanted to get home, huh?" He asked, watching as she smiled sadly and nodded, "I get that, if I hadn't been with Merle when it happened, first thing I'dve done woulda been look for him."
"Think he's still out there?" She asked. Even though Daryl didn't talk about his brother much, she knew that they had a strong bond- even if it did sound like he was often dragged around and beaten up; she knew that family was family and nothing changed that.
"Oh he'll be out there," he nodded, "it ain't his style to do somethin' convenient like die, y'know?"
"You don't mean that," she frowned, "I get that he gave you some shit in the past but you don't really wish him dead."
"I dunno," he admitted, "sometimes I think it'd jus' be easier if he was or we jus' never saw each other again an' then other times I jus' wanna pack up an' get out there an' look for him."
"Family's family," she nodded, understanding what he was trying to say, "I hadn't spoken to mine much in the last… Five years or so? But as soon as the world went to shit, they were the first people I thought about."
"Even your brother?" He asked, watching as her mood visibly darkened at the mere mention of her sibling.
"I don't believe in wishin' bad things to happen to people coz it ain't good karma," she said quietly, not meeting his eye, "but if he were to somehow end up gettin' eaten alive? Well, I sure as hell wouldn't shed a tear."
"What happened to 'family's family'?" He asked, not sure how he was able to put all the grief that his brother had caused him in the past aside but she refused to.
"You saw the scar, right?" She asked, meeting his gaze again, "Well that wasn't the only thing he ever did to me. He broke my feet, my arm, my leg, four ribs, three of my fingers and both wrists..." She shook her head and looked away again, "He didn't jus' hurt me, he scared me… I hadda get out as soon as I could but then… Well then he jus' started doin' it to other girls an' they ended up a lot worse off than me."
"He went down for murder, right?" Daryl asked, watching as she squirmed uncomfortably in the seat at her memories.
"Three counts," she whispered, "last I heard, the police were diggin' up as many unsolved murder/rape/assault cases of young women that they could get their hands on, fuck knows how many he actually committed," she laughed nervously to herself, "now tell me- how're you supposed to put all that behind you an' love someone coz they're your family?"
"You gotta point," he nodded, "Merle might've put me through a fair share of shit but he never… Well, I don't think he ever actually tried to kill me," he looked up at her, "didn't realize you had it so rough."
"Oh c'mon," she snorted, shaking her head, "I've done alright for myself, I got outta there an' turned shit around an' had my own place, my own business an' my own money… I ain't the kinda girl to play the victim; I jus' got on with it."
"Didn't you ever tell your folks what he was doin'?" He asked, standing up and moving closer to her.
"Sure, after he slammed my hand in the door an' broke my fingers, I told my mom," she watched him as he settled on the ground again next to her feet and looked up at her. She felt like a teacher at story time, "she didn't believe me an' that was that. I dunno if he overheard or if she asked him about it later but he took me down to the park the next day and held my head in the pond 'til I swore never to tell again."
"Sonofabitch," Daryl growled before he looked apologetically at Lizzie, almost forgetting that it was her brother he was talking about. She only smiled and shrugged, understanding where he was coming from, "so all this time you been sayin' that you know what it's like to live like me… You weren't kiddin', were you?"
"I already told you, I'm more than meets the eye." She grinned, rubbing the Transformer tattoos on her wrists.
"Did you speak out against him when he hit the courts?" He asked, not sure how involved she'd been with the downfall of her brother.
"They asked me to after they interviewed me an' I told 'em everythin' I remembered but I didn't," she shook her head, "woulda been too much've a hassle on me an' my business an' I didn't want that catchin' up with me in Florida, no one needed to know what he'd done to me."
"You never told no one?" He asked, feeling his ego swell slightly.
"Only one person," she didn't want to mention his name, "an' that was purely for business reasons, jus' in case anyone started sneakin' round, tryna talk to me for anythin'… He respected my privacy an' never asked for any details."
"Is that why you didn't testify? Coz you didn't want people to know what he'd done to you?" He had a feeling that she didn't like to be portrayed as weak.
"I asked 'em if they had enough against him without my story to put him away an' they said yes… So why bother diggin' up all my dirty laundry when he'd near enough hung himself already?" She shrugged, "It don't matter that I didn't get my fifteen minutes of fame, he still got what he deserved."
"You gotta strong sense of justice, huh?" He smirked.
"I'm like Batman," she grinned, the smile suddenly fading from her face as she inched forwards, "you know who Batman is, right?"
"Jesus girl, I might not understand half the shit that comes outta your mouth but I didn't live in a fuckin' cave!" He scowled as she laughed at him.
"I dunno," she smirked, "you look pretty cavemannish to me…"
Without warning, he lunged towards her, knocking the chair backwards and causing them both to tumble to the ground. Lizzie used his momentum to push him off the top of her, sending him flying over her head and landing heavily in the dirt.
"Fuckin' bitch!" He groaned as he pushed himself to his knees, looking at her as she lay on the ground, laughing at him.
"You came at me, I reacted," she smirked, "I toldya before, I got killers blood in me an' you better watch your back."
"An' I was jus' gonna throw you to the floor an' have my wicked way with you," he stood up, stretching; "now I ain't so sure I wanna do that."
"Woe is me!" She cried dramatically, rolling onto her back and flinging her hand across her eyes, "Whatever am I gonna do if I can't have a good ol' fashioned fuckin' from my caveman-Redneck over there?"
"Be as dramatic as you want, y'ain't gettin' no sympathy off me." He muttered, rolling his eyes at her.
"I don't need no sympathy," she grinned, watching as he walked towards her, waggling her fingers at him, "long as I got my hand, I'm all sorted…"
He watched in astonishment as she began to slide her hand down her body slowly before she slipped it into the top of her jeans. It became too much for him and he fell to his knees beside her, grabbing her hand and pulling it back.
"Now you're jus' teasin' me…" He whispered, his face only inches from hers.
"Got you all hot an' horny though, right?" She asked, running her other hand between his legs, feeling him stir beneath her fingers, "So my plan worked."
"Clever girl," he muttered, kissing her hard and biting her bottom lip as he pulled away, "better get that fine ass of yours in my tent."
"Why waste time? Ain't like I showered an' got all clean, I don't mind rollin' round in the dirt with you for a while." She ran her hand through his hair, gazing up at him with such wanting in her eyes.
"Someone might come lookin' for us… Catch us…" His hand had already made its way to the zipper on her jeans.
"Don't that jus' make it all the more fun?" She asked, raising her hips from the ground so he could wriggle her jeans down her legs.
"No you're speakin' my language." He grinned, pressing his lips against hers again and realizing that he might be falling in love with her.