I'm really sorry guys. I've been having a really rough go of it lately. I was diagnosed with depression due to chronic pain and I am finding it hard to motivate myself to do anything. Its not like its new or anything. I have been having trouble motivating myself for a while but now that it has a diagnosis I am still trying to come to grips that fact I have depression. It is difficult but I am managing. I have an MRI coming up next week and then I will be meeting with an orthopedic surgeon on the sixteenth, not to mention I have to do my tertiary rehabilitation, see my counselor, and fit my work around all that so it leave little time for writing. I feel really bad about it but don't think I am just leaving the story unfinished. I will be finishing it, fro where I am in it it is only a couple chapters from being done, it will just take a bit longer than I wanted.
I only have one last thing to say, mainly as a cautionary warning. If my MRI comes up with bad news and I will require surgery I will be out for a while. Apparently the type of surgery and where I would be having it (my shoulder) is very painful so I will be on pain meds and having to see the doctor constantly so writing will be on the lowest priority for me. Don't worry, I will let you know if I need surgery beforehand so you guys will know. Thank you guys so much for sticking in there with my random updates and the long waits. It means a lot to me.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Enjoy!
Bree looked at the mess of wiring in the truck as Howard was tearing it out, cursing at the small animals that did it the entire time. She didn't need to be there with him, she didn't know anything about vehicles other than how to hotwire them but she liked being around him. She didn't want to be around Rysk or Jamie, she knew they could feel something different about her. She knew she wasn't complete, as she had said before, Brianna Dixie Lee Hooper was scattered across the province. She wanted to accept that fact, she disliked herself but she knew she had to stop pretending to be someone she wasn't. She was the girl who had gutted Ben in front of everyone, the one who, without a care, put a bullet in his brain after he died. She was the one who stabbed Leon and let the walkers finish him off.
"Bree, can you hand me the 2/8ths wrench?" Howard's muffled voice brought her out of her thoughts and she picked up the wrench he had asked for before climbing into the passenger side of the truck and handing it to him. Silence fell as he tinkered with the wiring and the bolts holding the dash in place.
"You love me, right?" Bree was surprised to hear the words fall from her lips and she was even more surprised at how small and childish they sounded. Howard looked up at her from his place on the floor of the truck and smiled. The familiar smile made her chest ache.
"That's a stupid question. Of course I do." He chuckled as he went back to his task, Bree's tongue felt heavy and she didn't want to say what she was going to.
"Even if I can't love you back?" It hurt saying it but in some way it was true, she couldn't feel her love for him as she once had. She watched as he stilled in his job and he let out a heavy sigh.
"Briana, I am your brother, I know you love me. I can see it in everything you do for me. You can't conveniently forget how to love someone because it's ingrained into you. I can see it, even if you can't. It's that softening around your shoulders when look at me and the unconscious lean you get towards me when I sit by you. It's in how you talk to me and in the very air around you when you are close." His words were like a punch to her stomach. "It was like that with Andrew. We didn't need to feel our bond and love twenty-four/seven because we could see it. You can see it in me too. Don't worry, Briana, you love me because I can see it." She felt sudden tears prick her eyes and she bit her lip hard until the watering went away.
"You love me even though I closed those gates to everyone on the outside?" She had to let everything out. She wanted to get it out. It had been festering inside of her like a forgotten sliver, if she didn't it would rot her from the inside out.
"Yes, if you hadn't we would have died." It was as quick reply and she closed her eyes. It was painful to admit everything and it was like she was pulling open a wound and poking it just to see if it still hurt.
"You love me even though I ran away?" She remembered the night with Ben clearly, the fear she had felt, the total panic she had coursing through her in those moments. That was hard, she had let everyone down the instant she had run away. She had let down everyone who had come across the walls and who were barred entrance.
"Yes, I would have been mad if you hadn't." He grunted as he tried to loosen a rusty bolt. She watched him as she carefully chose her next words.
"You love me even though it's my fault Andrew died?" She jumped back as he moved suddenly. He grabbed the front of her shirt and tugged her downwards, his green eyes were furious.
"Don't you ever say anything like that again! Andrew loved you, he died out there looking for you but that was his own fault, we got separated and he took a risk. There is no way that it is your fault. It is not your burden to carry." His eyes softened and he carefully pulled himself onto the seat. Once his broken leg was in a comfortable position he hugged her to his chest. Bree closed her eyes and suddenly burst into tears. She clutched at Howard and cried for Andrew. "We loved you more than anything, Briana. Andrew and I went looking for you in Saskatoon, we got surrounded and he got bit after we fought our way out we got separated and I never saw him again. That is not your fault. It was never your fault. So let it out." Bree held him so tightly around the waist she was afraid she would crack his ribs but he said nothing and just held her.
It felt good to let everything out, to cry out months of frustrations, guilt, and inadequacies. She absolutely loathed the thought of crying in front of anyone but in that moment she was comfortable. This was Howard, her big brother, the man who practically raised her. He had seen her cry more times than she could count and this was no different. In that moment she wasn't Bree, she was Briana, a little girl who had her heartbroken and her innocent lost all in one night. The girl who had been forced to blow up a dam and kill possibly hundreds of survivors but who was still too innocent to fight against the man who had forced her to do it.
"Bree, you are showing all the signs of PTSD. Emotional detachment, sleeplessness coupled with nightmares, being tense, strong feelings of guilt, etc. You experienced a year of truly traumatic things, Bree. You didn't change, your mind just adapted to what was happening, it couldn't cope properly and that is alright." He rubbed her back and Bree pulled back slightly from Howard. Was it that simple? Was it as easy as being diagnosed with something as simple as that? "Don't over think it, Briana. You have PTSD, many of us do, you just happened to experience something worse than most so you got stuck with a more severe form of it." Bree shook her head and let him go completely. Her eyebrows furrowed in concentration.
"I'm not overthinking it, Howard. It makes sense. If it is just PTSD then it's treatable. I won't be the same but I'll be better." The thought in itself seemed too good to be true but he made a very valid point. Howard brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes with a wide smile.
"No, Bree, you won't ever be the same but you can begin to talk about and accept what you have gone through. The things you experienced aren't ever going to go away, they moulded you and that will never change but it doesn't have to run your life." His green eyes were comforting and Bree fought against the feeling that would cover up her love for him, the psychological block that separated her from her emotions.
"I'll start when we get back. Dr. Erwin might be able to help." She kind of doubted it, he was more in treating physical problems rather than mental. However it would be a start. She wiped at her eyes and Howard tapped under her chin with his knuckle.
"That sounds like a good idea, Bree." He looked at the wiring with a sigh. "There should be some wiring around somewhere. I need just a few spools. Do you mind looking for some? I think if I had just enough I could trick the truck into thinking that it can run." And just like that the conversation was over and Bree was glad that it was. It was one thing to sob uncontrollably and another to talk about it afterwards. She nodded and hopped out of the truck. The quonset would probably have some sort of wiring, it was a farm after al and most farms kept a plethora of junk around. Well not exactly junk, everything had a use but whether or not it was actually used for its intended purpose was the turning point into junk.
The quonset was poorly lit, the only light coming from the two large open door at the front. The water would have destroyed the electrical and so she was left to try and find something in the dark. The tool benches were filled with random items and metal. It was cluttered but spoke of what used to be a frequently used work space. She carefully shifted the metal and random buckets and balls of baler twine.
She didn't have much knowledge of farms but she certainly would have hoped that they would have been a bit more organized with their things. Item after item was checked and discarded, she found several knifes and a flashlight that surprisingly still worked. Several minutes later she found a barely used whet stone.
"Bree, have you found the wiring yet?" Howard's voice called over from the truck and she felt her face warm up, she had almost forgotten her entire purpose for searching. She had spent so much of her time in cities that she hadn't realized what a treasure trove farms could be.
"No, but we have to note to search farms more frequently. There is a lot of stuff here." She pocketed the whet stone and used the flashlight to search for the spools of coloured wires. Her face went completely red as the beam of the flashlight rested on a carefully constructed shelf filled with the spools she had been searching for. It sat off to one side and she grabbed several spools and headed back to the truck. "I hope these are enough." She put the spools on the truck seat before returning to the work bench. The truck would need to be stocked and this would be just the place to start.
"Is Bree in here?" That familiar southern drawl instantly made her shiver and her stomach clench. She desired Daryl in a way she hadn't desired anyone else. Sure, in her life she had felt desire but the way she felt for Daryl made the others pale in comparison.
"Yah, she's back in the quonset, probably searching for more treasures." Howard's voice cut through the haze she hadn't realized had descended in her mind. She turned back to the work bench and continued to search through the items in the hopes of finding useful things. She was more than aware of when he stood behind her, her psyche was nearly painfully attuned to his. She was always hyper aware about where he was and how close he seemed to be.
A strong hand wrapped around her waist and his hand splayed across her stomach. She felt the touch like electricity through her entire body before he pulled her roughly against his chest. His lips pressed into her shoulder and his warm breath caressed her collar bone. She found herself relaxing into him, her soft body moulding to his.
"Yer mine, Bree. Ain't no man on this earth gunna take away what is mine." How he said it was dark and possessive and she felt her body shudder against him as the words moved over her skin. His hand held tighter against his chest and Bree leaned her head against his shoulder.
"I told Rysk we were friends because it isn't any of his business what I want to do with you. He was protective over me before all of this happened. I didn't need him grilling you for your history before he gave his blessing for you to touch me." She smirked slightly before turning her head and pressing her lips to his stubbled jaw. "It isn't anyone's business what we want to do." Daryl let out a small growl before he turned her around and pulled her tight against his chest and kissed her.
Bree liked how passionate he was, there was little elegance in what he did, he was all hot lips and strong hands and she loved it. It was just raw need as he pushed her against the work bench before kissing her again. She had seen elegant men do terrible things and elegance in need put her off. She liked the rough need, the raw need, she liked the raw Daryl, the passionate Daryl.
"Jesus Christ, you two. As soon as I turn my back on you two, you are on each other." Howard sounded exasperated and Bree let out a frustrated groan. She could just see a curve of a smirk on Daryl's lips as she pressed her forehead into the crook of his neck.
"And why it that whenever Daryl and I are just getting into one another, you pop up?" She looked over Daryl's shoulder and Howard was smiling an all too innocent smile.
"I just think that you two shouldn't be doing that out in the open because anyone could find you." He gave a wink and Bree groaned again. Daryl chuckled into the crook of her neck and she felt the overwhelming urge to pout. She wasn't ever going to get laid.
Possessive Daryl. ~drools~ Told you he would show up. Hope you guys liked this chapter. The next few chapters are going to be interesting and I'll try my best to upload regularly but I can't make any promises.
TV SHOW SPOILER
DON'T READ IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN SEASON 3 EPISODE 15 OR BETTER KNOW AS THE EPISODE BEFORE THE SEASON FINALE!
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Also I was really upset about about Merle's death in this last episode. I really grew to like him over this Season and I am pretty sure I cried when he died. I kind of liked Merle's character anyway, even Season one in the first episode he appeared in. I liked how despite everything he was still a racist asshole. I liked that about him and It made me really like Micheal Rooker as an Actor but it is hard to let a character go when you get attached. (Merle had me hook, line, and sinker when he mentioned that the one thing he missed about Woodbury was the library, a man after my own heart). So I had to grieve a little over that. I am having difficulties writing my Merle because he is still alive while TV show Merle is dead and then I get kind of sad about it. Pathetic I know but still. He was a great character with a deep personality (meaning there was more to him than what you could see, rather than he was philosophically deep like Yoda.) and he was played by a great actor. So my next glass of milk I raise to both of them. One for dying a hero's death and the other for playing the character so well he created a lasting impression with me. Here's to you.