By some miracle, Pete managed to survive the weekend without giving Rick cause to kill him. Though he hadn't yet confessed to stealing Rick's guns, or to manipulating Ron into doing it for him, the second gun had been found early Saturday afternoon. The search had resumed earlier that morning, and with no resident wanting their own homes to be searched, most joined in on the search of the gardens and grassed areas. Though there were whispers that indicated they felt Rick was overreacting, and gossip about Pete and Jessie's separation that ran rampant, no one could deny that Rick was right when they found the missing guns. On a hunch, Carter decided to take his metal detector back over the gardens outside the Infirmary for a closer look, and it was he that found the second, a Smith and Wesson Sigma, buried three feet deep alongside the building foundations. The barrel was full of dirt and moisture and would require a thorough cleaning, but Rick didn't care. Pete no longer had access to the missing guns, not that it would mean he would no longer be under twenty four hour guard.
With the urgency to find the guns over and done with, Rick had then turned his focus onto Pete himself. Showing almost no reaction to the fact that the guns had been found, Pete refused all opportunities to cooperate or talk about his future, belligerently demanding that he speak to Jessie. Knowing better than to accommodate this request, Rick had simply made the call that Pete be confined to the Infirmary for the time being, pleased when he found Deanna to be in agreement with him. With clear instructions that he not leave the Infirmary without supervision, and that he also continue his medical duties as normal, Pete was left to tend to his wounded pride in private.
A guard was stationed at the Infirmary throughout the day, only adding to Sasha's work of scheduling watch point guards, while at night Pete was being locked up. Trying to reduce the burden of guarding him, Rick had called for bars to be installed on a bedroom window and a lock on the outside of the door, with Abraham gladly taking on the task of locking Pete in every night and letting him out every morning. This measure was deemed excessive by many, but necessary in Rick's opinion. At the very least Jessie would be able to sleep comfortably, knowing that any interactions with her husband would be made on her own terms, not his.
The weekend had passed without major incident, and to everyone's relief Monday evening brought about a much welcome surprise in the form of Aaron and Daryl. This was the second time the two of them had departed to look for survivors, and though they'd promised that they'd return within their two week deadline, Rick honestly hadn't been holding his breath this time around. Aside from the fact that they could get held up by a many number of things, Daryl wasn't exactly known for his punctuality. So it came as a most pleasant surprise when they heard Aaron's voice over the radio announcing their imminent arrival early Monday evening, his voice sounding almost as good as the rumble of Merle's old motorcycle. Like their last return Aaron and Daryl had been met at the gates by most of the community, Eric rushing to the driver's side of the Hyundai while Rick and his group went towards Daryl on the motorcycle.
"I bought yah something," Daryl grunted after the two of them embraced. Stuffing his riding gloves into his pocket, he looked over his shoulder and jerked his head towards the Hyundai.
Indeed he had brought him something, though Rick would have been pleased if it was only the three chickens sitting on the back seat. In the passenger seat was exactly what Daryl had hoped to bring back, a survivor. Despite this having been the entire purpose of their journey, Rick couldn't help but feel annoyed by their successful recruiting. Aside from the fact that he was reluctant to trust anyone from the outside, at the moment it felt like he was constantly inundated with things to handle. He could never catch a break, for there was always a complication arising, something to distract him from the more important things…this survivor was just another complication Rick needed to attend to.
While Aaron gently coaxed the nervous man to get out of the car, Rick was pleased to note the blindfold that hung around his neck, indicating that he didn't know where he was. According to Daryl, they'd only picked him up two days ago, and upon finding him collapsed on the side of the road they had broken their own practice of watching and observing at a distance. They'd stopped to help him, but rather than delay their return home to Alexandria so that they could get to know him a little better, they'd come home almost immediately. Rick suspected that the three chickens that occupied the back seat had been the deciding factor in their return home, for they weren't exactly good company.
Like always, Deanna had hoped to interview the survivor, Gordon, as soon as possible, but within a minute of them sitting down in her living room Rick knew it wasn't going to happen. Despite his tall and burley stature, Gordon sat hunched over in the same blue chair which Rick had once sat, his head lowered to the floor and his eyes darting around in suspicion. Wringing his hands he looked far from comfortable in this strange new place, not at all assured of his personal safety. Just like Rick had, Gordon was treating everything he saw with suspicion, likely not believing any of it to truly be real. Though he was pleased to see that this survivor at least had the instinct to exercise caution, it also frustrated him. He'd been planning to spend the evening at home, to gauge Carl's mood and attitude the night before he intended to tell him about his relationship with Carrie. Carl's reaction hinged on so many things that were going on right now, and Rick needed to be prepared in advance…he needed to be home this evening, to be with his kids. Instead he was stuck at Deanna's house, trying to interview a man who clearly did not want to talk to either of them.
After fifteen minutes in which Gordon had told them only his name and age, Rick knew that there was nothing else they might learn from him that night. Giving her a chance, he had allowed Deanna a short while to talk and tell him a few things about the community, and then he put a stop to the interview. Sensing that Gordon needed time to absorb the shock of what was happening to him, Rick had brought him to the same townhouse where they'd kept Carter a few weeks ago, explaining that he would be staying there for the night. Appearing to agree to Rick's terms, he simply walked over to the mattress on the floor and slumped down onto it, staring at the opposite wall. They brought him food, water, clothing and towels, and then directed him to a bathroom he would be allowed to use…then they'd locked him in and left him undisturbed. Even then, with the survivor taken care of and secured, Rick couldn't catch a break, he couldn't get home to spend the evening with Carl. Ron was causing trouble yet again, reducing Jessie to tears when he refused to come home to her.
Ever since the separation Ron had been staying with Pete in the Infirmary, much to everyone's frustration. It was bad enough they suspected Pete had manipulated him into stealing Rick's guns, but now he was clearly using Ron against Jessie. Taking advantage of his son's loyalty and love, Pete was encouraging him to rebel against his mother, to ignore her and refuse to come home. Monday night it had taken everything but force for Rick and Deanna to make Ron return home, having had enough of his behaviour. Ron wasn't handling the separation well at all, and Pete was using this to his advantage.
The following morning, it was with reluctance that Rick returned to the townhouses and met with Deanna again, the two of them recollecting before they attempted to interview Gordon again. When he and Aaron went to get him Rick was unsurprised to find him in the exact same place he had left him, laying on the bed staring at the opposite wall, his food, water and blankets untouched. Summoning all of his patience, and questioning whether or not this man actually wanted to be there, Rick had left him in Aaron's care. An hour later Gordon was escorted by Rick to Deanna's townhouse for his interview, looking significantly more well than before, having eaten, showered and been seen to by Pete. Determined to prove how valuable he was, Pete had made quite the effort to check him over from top to toe.
Checking on Gordon as Pete tended to him, Rick found himself too impatient to wait for the IV fluids to finish being administered, and insisted the interview go ahead. He had too many things to do that day to keep waiting around for Gordon to be ready, or for Pete to give his approval that he could leave the Infirmary. Today he was meant to be telling Carl about his relationship with Carrie, and he needed to prepare for that - he didn't want to put the conversation off again. Ignoring Pete's protesting, he brought Gordon back to Deanna's house with the IV still attached, and he hung it from the book shelf to finish being administered. Gordon gave no protest to anything, simply doing as he was told, but Rick got the feeling he was going to be a little more loquacious than he was the day before.
Not taking a seat beside Deanna, Rick instead stood to the side of the couch with his arms folded, carefully considering Gordon's demeanour before he began.
"You're not a hostage here, you're a guest," he started as soon as Deanna had turned on the camera. His patience was wearing thin, and he wanted to get straight to the point. "You're free to leave if you wish, and I'd prefer you not waste my time. Is there any reason you're refusing food and water?"
There was a long silence, and for a few moments it looked like Gordon wasn't going to say anything. Finally he sat up a little straighter and looked up at them, his expression apologetic and embarrassed. "Sorry," he began quietly, one of the few times Rick had heard him speak. "I just…"
"Do you want to be here?" Rick asked bluntly.
"I…I don't know."
Though he was dissatisfied with the answers, at least he had received answers today. Happy to defer back to Deanna, Rick gave her a nod of approval and allowed her to begin the interview. Unlike their previous attempt to interview him, this morning Gordon was more receptive, answering Deanna's questions and slowly beginning to tell his story. Gordon Monaghan, sixty three years old from Ruston, Louisiana, he was a high school science teacher enjoying an early retirement when the outbreak began. His subsequent story was similar to everyone else's. He'd made it out of major cities with a few members of his family, and they'd survived by joining various groups that constantly moved around, rarely having somewhere to call home for longer than a few months. The last surviving member of his family and group had died two months ago, his nine year old grandson who had succumbed to an infected cut on his shoulder.
"After that, I just kept going," Gordon remarked softly, his eyes fixed on the glass doors that lead onto the terrace. "I don't know why…I just did."
"The area Daryl and Aaron picked you up, you've been around there for a while?" Rick enquired.
"Yes. I never made it very far on foot." Clearing his throat, Gordon scratched his grey beard and shifted in the seat. "I've got a bad hip, you see…"
"You ever run into trouble with other people? Groups?"
He gave a bitter laugh, looking up at him now. "When did I not run into trouble with other groups? Why do you think I tried to make a run for it from your brother?"
"You ran from Daryl?"
Nodding, he gave a bitter smile. "I only tried. I got nothing but trouble from other people…even when I'm just minding my own business, people just take, take, take. One asshole literally took the shirt off my back….can you believe it?" he said in disbelief. "Someone stole the shirt off my back."
Eager for more information, Rick pressed him. "Any groups in particular come to mind?"
There was a short pause now, and then Gordon looked up at him, his expression indicating that he knew what Rick was getting at. "You seen them too, huh? The one's with the W?"
"What do you know about them?" he questioned, not giving him any information just yet.
"They think they've descended from Wolves. Can you believe it? Guess that's what happens when people…" he trailed off with a long sigh, not know what to say next.
"What happened with them?"
"Same as every other group that's caused me trouble. They held me up, took everything I had…they took my Anthony too. That's how he got the cut…getting away from them." There was a short pause, and now Gordon turned to Rick. "What do you know about them?"
"About the same," he answered, not elaborating any further. "Deanna?"
Letting her take the lead again, Rick stood back and carefully observed, taking note that as the interview progressed, Gordon 's body language relaxed. The shock of his arrival was wearing off, and the IV fluids he was receiving was certainly helping him too. Soon enough Deanna began telling him about life in Alexandria, about their history and the way things worked. Finally, after over an hour of talking, their interview seemed to approach its inevitable conclusion.
"Do you want to stay here?" Rick asked, repeating his earlier question.
Gordon hesitated, and understanding the magnitude of this decision, Rick gave him time to answer it. He knew that Gordon understood what it was like out there, that he too was aware of the fact that people were a greater threat than Walkers, but that this awareness also served as a caution. Despite their goodwill and they way they had provided for him since Aaron and Daryl had found him, Gordon was likely still uncertain of whether or not he trusted these people…it would take some time for that trust to truly develop.
Finally, Gordon gave his answer. "Yes," he said quietly, though he sounded uncertain. "I'd like that, please."
At this, Rick and Deanna exchanged a meaningful glance, both aware that his desire to stay wasn't quite enough. "Our community is now run under shared leadership between Rick and myself," Deanna began, acknowledging them as co-leaders for the very first time. "I suspect you will be a most welcome addition. However…we are experiencing a lot of friction among some residents. Things are tense right now."
"Okay."
"Are you going to cause additional friction?" she enquired bluntly.
"No Ma'am, I'm not," he said quickly, looking between the two of them. "I just…I'm not going to cause trouble. I'd like to stay."
At this, Deanna turned to Rick to gauge his feelings. Deciding he'd heard almost enough, he came forward and looked at Gordon a little more closely, catching his gaze and then holding it.
"If you want to stay here, I need to ask you three questions."
"Are they the same ones Daryl asked?"
"Most likely."
Gordon nodded, clearing his throat and then looking back at Rick. "Alright," he agreed, appearing to brace himself to give his answers.
"How many Walkers have you killed?"
"Hundreds," he answered without hesitation. "Maybe over a thousand."
"How many people have you killed?"
Again, he answered without hesitation. "Twenty two."
Catching Deanna's reaction from the corner of his eye, he could tell she was surprised by this frank admission. "Why?" he asked next, this being the most important answer.
"Why does anyone kill these days? It comes down to survival," he said candidly. "I killed to protect myself, to protect people I loved. I killed a woman for a Ventolin inhaler…all she had to do was give someone a couple of puffs, and she wouldn't…so I had to."
Surprised by the honesty of the latter statement, Rick kept his expression impassive as he looked at Gordon, considering his final decision a moment longer. There was no logical reason that he should refuse this man the safety of Alexandria. Aside from his previous refusal to eat and drink, he'd been nothing other than cooperative and non-threatening. Rick's instincts told him that everything was fine, that letting this man in was the right decision, but still he deliberated. No matter how non-threatening the man seemed, there was always the possibility that he was being deceived, that his judgement was flawed. Gordon was just another factor in an already complicated series of problems he was trying to deal with, and he felt the urge to brush this problem aside…he really didn't have the time for this. He was already baby sitting Pete, he didn't need to be baby sitting a new resident too.
Coming to his decision, Rick looked at Deanna to gauge her thoughts, knowing that despite his reservations, they shared the same opinion. Glad the interview was over and that he could get on with his day, Rick gave his final decision.
"Welcome to Alexandria."
Enjoying the warm sunlight, Rick took a few moments to talk with Aaron before leaving to make his rounds. There had been a prior agreement that if Gordon was to stay, he'd be accommodated at Aaron and Eric's house for the time being, at least until he'd settled in and more houses were made available with the expansion. Despite having given his approval, Rick was understandably concerned about Aaron's tendency to be too trusting. After all, they had only picked Gordon up off the side of the road two days ago…they hadn't watched him from afar at all.
"Just don't let your guard down too soon," he warned him, glad to see Daryl give a nod of support.
"I won't," Aaron assured him, though he was still optimistic. "I think he's going to work out, Rick. I truly do. He's not so different to your group."
Rick nodded in agreement. "That's what worries me," he said candidly. "The fact that he might be just like us."
"That's not a good thing?" Aaron enquired as Rick and Daryl went to walk away.
Looking at him over his shoulder, Rick noted his small smile. "No, it might not be."
Accepting this, Aaron nodded and then raised his hand in farewell. "Be safe out there."
Not lingering any longer, Rick and Daryl set off towards the gates so that they could make rounds together, a process he had sorely missed since his departure two weeks ago. Making rounds with Daryl was easy and hassle free…occasionally they made small talk, but most of them time the completed the task in comfortable silence. But today though, Rick knew they had a lot to talk about, for a lot had occurred which Daryl needed to be brought up to speed on.
"The chickens look happy," Rick commented as they passed their temporary enclosure. The three chickens explored their new home, scratching at the grass and clucking softly. "It'll be nice to have some eggs."
Daryl grunted in agreement, squinting up at the warm sun. "There were four of 'em."
"What happened to the fourth?"
"Aaron found a can o' crisco…things escalated from there."
He looked at him in surprise, his mouth gaping. "You made fried chicken?"
Gloating, Daryl moaned in delight. "Fuck yeah we did. Best fried chicken you ever tasted…real crispy, yah know?"
Rick's mouth watered as they lingered down by the gate, waiting to farewell Abraham and his team who were heading to check on the safe houses. By his side was Rosita, Glenn, Sasha and Anna, the latter having become a welcome addition on more than one safe house run lately. Anna had gone from strength to strength, having even convinced Erin to join them on one the most recent run prior. Checking in with the run crew, and happily approving of Glenn's plans to take another team out fruit picking later, Rick and Daryl left Alexandria at the same time the run crew. While Betsy closed the gate behind them they breathed a simultaneous sigh of relief, enjoying the comfortable silence brought about by one another's company.
A much welcomed sense of freedom encompassed Rick as they walked, for during all the fuss with Pete, the guns, Aaron and Daryl's return and then Gordon, he hadn't been outside the walls for days. Others had taken care of his rounds on his behalf, and while they likely thought they were doing him a favour, it was really the opposite. Though there was no difference between the air inside the walls and outside, to Rick there was…he needed to be outside. He needed this time outside in the world, the wide open space in which he could breathe freely and mentally recharge.
It was no wonder Carl had been sneaking out lately.
As this thought occurred to him, his sense of relaxation began to diminish as quickly as it began. Ever since Carl's gunshot wound to the leg had fully healed, Rick had been worried that he would resume his habit of sneaking over the walls, this concern intensifying over the last week or so. With Ron and Mikey treating him like shit, and Michonne busy helping manage Pete, there really was little else for Carl to do inside the walls. He still had Enid to hang out with, but in that respect Rick suspected she had been a factor in Carl's tendency to sneak out. He'd seen her outside the walls frequently, and no matter how many times he caught her out there, she made no apology. It seemed Enid answered to no one, and there was nothing any of them could do about it. Despite his reluctant acceptance that this young woman would do whatever the hell she liked, Rick knew her fondness for sneaking out had also encouraged Carl. Rick was almost certain that he had been sneaking out this past weekend…he was just too damn good to be caught in the act.
"It's…" Daryl began uncertainly, trailing off awkwardly for a moment. "It's shit what happened to Noah…Aidan too."
Rick nodded in agreement. Noah and Aidan's death had occurred a mere two days after he and Aaron had left to go recruiting, and it had been Glenn's unfortunate duty to tell Daryl what had happened. Though he and Noah had never been particularly close, Rick knew that he held the same place in Daryl's heart as he had in his own. Noah represented a connection to Beth, and his life was being lived in place of hers. She had died trying to avenge the injustice of what was happening to him, and now he was dead too.
"What's Nicholas been doin' since then?"
Laughing bitterly, Rick answered. "Hiding. I haven't seen a glimpse of him since the funerals. I think it's better that way."
There was a short pause now, the silence allowing Daryl to continue processing grief in his own way. "Tara? She getting better then, huh?"
"She's still getting head aches, some blurry vision when she's tired. She's going to be out of commission for a while yet."
"Mmmm. Glenn said that Carrie took it all pretty hard. Said she ain't been herself lately."
He shrugged his shoulders at this, the two of them picking up their pace to avoid an approaching Walker. He neither agreed nor disagreed with Glenn's observation, and so sought to clarify. "Her confidence took a hit, that's for sure. She's adjusting."
"Weren't none of it her fault though."
"No, it wasn't." Moving away from the walls, they headed towards one of their Waker pits to check on it, knowing that after constantly covering the corpses with lye and soil it was becoming rather shallow. "She's been taking a break from things. She's trying to focus on helping Jessie right now."
Their conversation lapsed for a little while, needing to focus their attention as they checked on their Walker traps. Pits that had at first been ten feet deep were quickly reaching the end of their usefulness. As the pits became full, they slaughtered the Walkers and let them fall where they stood, then covered them with a generous helping of lye and soil. The process continued in that fashion week in and week out, saving the community a tonne on ammunition, but a few of them were becoming rather shallow. The ones he and Daryl checked on indicated that they were getting shallow, and being only waist deep meant that soon enough the Walkers would be able to escape.
Having made their checks of a few particular pits, they resumed their journey around the walls, passing by an array of steel panels and building supplies near the second phase of their expansion. This area, one which would encompass the most houses north of Alexandria, had yet to make significant progress, the focus having so far been on the first phase by the church. As they continued their rounds they soon came upon where the construction were working, Abraham and Tobin looking particularly frustrated with the installation of the second gate. They'd hoped to have finished it by now, but the components just hadn't come together as well as they had when they'd constructed the first gate. Aside from this problem, the expansion had been completed, with even the new watch posts and surveillance camera set up and operational once again. As soon as the gate was finished, the interior sections of the walls would be dismantled, and work would begin on cleaning up the buildings and common areas.
Though he was enjoying the companionable silence he and Daryl so often had, Rick felt the need to speak now. He'd been looking forward to Daryl's return home, and not just because he worried about his safety…he wanted to tell him about Carrie. Since they'd gotten serious, they'd made a point of not saying it to anyone else, wanting Carl to be the first person they told, but with all the delays and everything that had happened, Rick needed to say something.
"Carrie and I," he began tentatively, continuing when he had Daryl's attention. "We're uh…we're making a proper go of things."
Daryl didn't immediately reply, taking a moment to consider what had been said. "So, you two are…" he confirmed, glancing at him side long.
"Yeah, we are."
"Huh," Daryl grunted, looking pleased by this. "So no more sittin' on the fence then?"
Rick smiled at this, remembering Daryl's comments from last time they'd talked like this, his candid advice that while he shouldn't shit where he eats, he also shouldn't sit on the fence either. "No more sitting on the fence. We're going to make a go of this."
"And when did all this happen?"
"The day Noah and Aidan died. That day, it just…" he trailed off, casting his mind back to the moment when everything made sense. "I think it cleared things up for us. I was done waiting, done worrying."
"Worrying?"
"Worrying that she didn't feel the same."
Daryl nodded, taking it all in. "You drop the L bomb and all that shit?"
Chuckling at Daryl's tone, Rick nodded and smiled, his mood lifting the more they talked about this. "Yes, I did. I told her that I love her."
"Good for you," Daryl said cheerfully. "Who knew you had balls after all?"
Able to take some good natured ribbing, Rick smiled and nodded in agreement. "I found 'em, and thank God I did."
Their conversation lapsed when Daryl took his crossbow off his shoulder and raised it to an approaching Walker, Rick drawing his knife and handling a second. Going about the usual process, he took note of the W on the Walker's forehead before swiftly patting down the pockets, taking a small knife. Finding nothing else of interest, he grimaced as he cut off the fourth finger on the left hand and removed a wedding ring and then a watch, slipping them into his satchel along with the knife. Though they were of no value to them now, perhaps one day in the future there would be value in jewellery for trading…jewellery at least could be melted down and used for something they needed.
"Anything?" he asked Daryl, looking around and noting that one of their Walker pits was only a few yards away.
"A puffer," he answered, rattling the grey device before tossing it to Rick. "Empty, but we can use the mouth piece I think."
Catching the puffer, Rick paused and looked at it, thinking about what the newest resident had told them in his interview that morning. He'd killed a woman who had refused to share her Ventolin inhaler, forced to take her life so he could save another. While on one hand Rick's instincts told him there was a certain amount of trust he could afford Gordon, this was also what he had feared. Gordon was just like them…just like him. He was willing to kill in order to save a life. The women who owned the Ventolin was probably scared, desperate the keep the medicine for herself should she need it…killing her to save another person had been the right thing to do, at least in Rick's mind. But to have another person like him in this community? Rick wasn't sure he'd ever be able to fully trust someone like Gordon. They were too alike.
Putting the empty puffer into his satchel, he picked up the dead Walker's legs and began dragging it over to the pits, Daryl doing the same thing with the one he had killed. Minutes later they were shoving the bodies into the pits, hearing the heavy thump as their bodies hit the ground. The second Walker they pushed in knocked over a few of the live ones, causing a domino effect in which they all tumbled to their knees. Watching on, Rick had to remind himself not to laugh…Walkers weren't for their amusement, they had been people once. It was easy to forget that.
"How's Carl adjusting?" Daryl asked, the two of them washing their hands with some bottled water.
"To what?" he asked sarcastically. "To his father being the second most hated man in Alexandria? To Noah being torn apart alive? To brawling with Ron, and his friends treating him like shit? He's doing just fine."
"Oh," Daryl said lowly, having not really thought about this. "Sucks to be him?"
Rick nodded. "Yeah, it sucks to be him. He's missed you." The latter remark got the reaction he had been hoping for, with Daryl looking suitably remorseful for his absence.
"How's he getting on with Carrie?"
Gritting his teeth, Rick ran his hand over the back of his neck as he started walking again, Daryl falling into place beside him as they resumed their rounds. He knew exactly what Daryl was going to say, which made him dread giving an honest answer. "We haven't told him yet."
Daryl swore under his breath, and he narrowed his eyes at Rick in frustration. "Why the fuck not?"
"Did you miss everything he's going through right now? His best friend is dead, and his other friends are treating him like shit. The last thing he wants is to find out his dad is trying to move on with his life."
There was a short pause right now, but the silence was uncomfortable. "Better than him finding out from someo-"
"Yeah, yeah," he said, abruptly cutting him off. "Tell me something I don't know."
"He'll fucking hit the roof if he don't find out from you," Daryl warned. "You gotta tell him. Now, while you still got the chance."
"I've tried. Trust me, I've tried. We were ready to tell him last Tuesday."
"Why didn't yah?"
"Because that was the day he and Ron got into a fight."
Daryl muttered something under his breath, shrugging his shoulders. "Is it wrong to say I'm proud o' him for that?" he enquired bluntly. "I saw Ron's face…Carl pummelled him."
"Yes, it is wrong to say that. But between you and me? I'm a little proud of him too."
"So he goes and gets into a fight. Big deal. Why you still ain't told him?"
Rick sighed, glad that he could get this all off his chest, that he could articulate it to someone without getting into an argument about it. "That's when he told me about Pete and Jessie, about how he's abusing her. After that, I had to focus on her. We had to make sure she was alright, that she would accept our help, that we got Pete out with minimal fuss."
Daryl scoffed under his breath. "Good job with that, by the way," he grunted, gesturing to Rick's face. "So what gives?"
"What gives?"
"Yeah. What gives?"
"What gives, is that we're telling him today."
Daryl frowned, clearly surprised by this remark. "Are yah?"
"Yes," Rick said vehemently. "Carrie and I are going to tell him when he comes home from school."
"But?"
"But, nothing."
Daryl shook his head, clearly disbelieving. "Nah, I know you man…what's the but?"
Cursing how well Daryl knew him, how well he could read the tone of his voice, Rick reluctantly answered. "I think Carl's been sneaking over the walls."
"Yeah, so what?"
"So what?" he questioned incredulously.
"You gonna be mad at him for taking you up on it?"
Stopping in his tracks, Rick put his hand on Daryl's arm to stop him. "Taking me up on it?"
Daryl raised an eyebrow. "Yeah…I thought you knew."
"You thought I knew?" Rick questioned in alarm. "So, you know? You know he's been sneaking out?"
Daryl blinked. "You don't know?"
"No!"
There was a long pause, Daryl looked around uncomfortably. "Well, this is fucking awkward, ain't it?"
Reigning in his temper, Rick grit his teeth and took a deep breath. "How long has this been going on?"
"I dunno, I just found him out here once…day before Aaron and I left the other week."
"And you just let it go?"
"No," he said, sound highly affronted. "I gave him a piece of my mind and threatened to beat his ass, but he said you were okay with it."
The latter remark nearly rendered Rick speechless, and he simply gaped at Daryl until the words came to him. "Carl told you he had my blessing to go outside the walls alone, and you believed him?"
Flexing his jaw, Daryl shrugged offishly, clearly embarrassed. "Well, when you put it like that, it sounds-"
"It's sounds really fucking stupid!" Rick swore in anger. Just as he was about to continue, to tell Daryl exactly how stupid he had been, he forced himself to stop. This wasn't Daryl's fault…Carl was not normally deceptive, and had earned the trust of everyone in their group. Having such trust only made it easier to deceive people, thus making that deception even worse. "I'm sorry…this isn't your fault."
"It ain't?"
"No," he said darkly, setting off again.
His faster pace reflecting the anger he felt inside, Rick mulled over what he was going to do about this. He seethed at the thought that Daryl might know what was going on his his son's life better than he did, particularly given this wasn't the first time he'd noticed it. The last time Daryl had returned from his recruiting run he'd been the one to note that Carl wasn't driving Rick up the wall because he was being a brat, but because he was craving his attention. How did Daryl do that? He was hardly ever around, and yet he seemed to know what was going on in Carl's life better than Rick did.
To his frustration, Rick knew what was happening. They'd experienced this before. When they first settled at the prison for the longest time he had neglected the relationship he had with his son, always so focused on keeping him alive and fed. It had felt like he had too many things to take care of, like there was always something that he needed to handle, and he could feel that happening again here in Alexandria. Being totally honest with himself, he knew that had been happening here all along. He busied himself taking care of all the problems, and though he'd been making a greater effort to spend time with both his children, he couldn't honestly deny that they were often set aside. It wasn't his intention to do that, but the problems that arose were always so critical and time sensitive, and they always needed him to handle it.
This was partly his fault.
From the corner of his eye he saw Daryl removing his crossbow from his back, his eyes set on a Walker that was approaching them. Putting his hand on his elbow Rick stopped him and then drew his pocket knife, feeling the grim satisfaction that came with opening the blade and locking it into place. Needing to expel some of his restless energy, he marched up to the Walker and plunged his knife up and under the jaw, using such force he actually embedded the handle. Letting the Walker fall with his knife still in place, he sighed dejectedly as he looked down at it. Though it was so decomposed it was missing half it's face, including its right eye, he couldn't help but see a resemblance to Carl. This person had been about his age, having the same build and messy brown hair.
"Here," Daryl grunted after Rick had retrieved his knife and washed the blood from his hands. He held out a packet of his Marlboros, shaking it when Rick didn't do anything. "Just fucking have one. Way you're actin', I'd roll you a joint if I thought you'd smoke it."
Rick laughed under his breath, gratefully taking one of the cigarettes. "So that marijuana plant out here was yours?" he asked, lighting the cigarette and taking a generous puff.
"There's pot out here?"
"There was a while back."
Daryl snorted, shaking his head and lighting his own cigarette. "Nah, that weren't mine. You ain't worried about the kids, are yah? That it might be theirs?"
"No," Rick shook his head. "At their age, these days? They'd sooner wipe their asses with it than figure out they could smoke it."
Daryl snorted again, louder this time. "Waste of a leaf, I'll tell yah that."
Unable to help himself, Rick started laughing, a genuine smile coming across his face. With every word Daryl said combined with the relief of the cigarette, he began to feel a little better, his temper beginning to cool off as quickly as it had flared. Looking around as he flicked the cigarette to drop the ash he wearily sat down beside the Walker he had just killed, looking at its mangled face again…for some reason it really did remind him of Carl.
"You alright, man?" Daryl asked in concern. Leaning back against the opposite tree, taking the responsibility of keeping watch.
"I don't know," he answered honestly, going to rub his face and then stopping himself as he remembered the cuts. Instead he had to settle for rubbing the back of his neck, aggravating the cuts there instead. "I can't seem to catch a break lately. There's always something."
"Yeah," Daryl agreed, blowing out a puff of smoke.
"Would you stay awhile this time?" he asked hopefully, always hating it when he would leave. Daryl nodded his head, but didn't meet his eye. "Daryl…stay for more than a week. Please."
"Yeah, I will," he said, looking at him now. "I promise. Besides, I wanna stick around and make sure Gordon settles in, you know? And Aaron, I think he's been missing Eric."
"And here I thought you might be missing me."
Daryl rolled his eyes. "Sure. Like my balls miss jock itch."
"We're missing you."
"Mmmm," Daryl shrugged, looking away now like he always did at this type of comment. "So, you're…you're telling Carl today," he muttered to himself.
Rick looked at him incredulously. "You're kidding, right?"
"Man, yah just said you were. Thought it was all planned with you and Carrie."
"It was," he muttered darkly, thinking about the revelation that Carl had been sneaking out. "Shit, she's going to be mad as hell," he muttered, dreading the look on her face.
"Why aint yah tellin' him?"
"You think today is a good time?" he questioned, taking a long draw of the cigarette. "I'm about to punish him to high hell for lying and sneaking out. Should I follow it up by telling him about Carrie?"
Daryl shrugged noncommittally. "Well, alright…that'd go down like a sack of shit. But yah can't keep everyone happy. Either piss off your kid, or piss off your woman."
There was an awkward pause now, Rick watching as Daryl went to say something only to stop himself at the last minute. Sensing that he had something to say, Rick focused on finishing his cigarette, on watching the end burn red with each inhalation.
"I talked to Carol last night," Daryl finally said, his voice rather quiet. "She told me what's going on with you an' Pete, about the things he's been sayin' to yah."
"Good," Rick said shortly, stubbing out the butt and then throwing it away, the environment be damned.
"You really think he'd tell Carl about Ass Kicker?"
"I don't know," he muttered. "That's what scares me…I just don't know."
"Well…not to beat a dead horse, but you really ought'a tell Carl these things yourself."
"No," he said sharply, appalled that Daryl would even suggest such a thing. "No. I'm no-"
"No, not about Judith," he clarified hastily. "Fuck no, not about her…about you and Carrie."
Rick sighed in frustration. They were back to this again. "Yeah, I know. But it's not that simple."
"Seems simple to me. Pete's threatening to tell yah kid? Nip it in the bud, and tell him yourself. Simple."
"It's not. I want to tell him, Daryl, I-"
"Do yah?" he questioned, though not confrontationally. "It's only me here, man, so be honest. Do you want to tell him?"
"Yes," he emphasised. "I want to tell him, but it's not that simple. I have to do this right, for Carl's sake. He misses Lori, a lot. He dreams about her…he talks about her in his sleep. Me trying to move on with my life is going to hard for him to deal with. Think about how you reacted when your mom died, and your father moved on with his life."
Daryl raised his eyebrows at this, surprised Rick tried to draw comparisons. "My father was red neck trash who brought home pieces of ass, before and after mom died. You ain't bringing home a piece of ass, Carl will see that."
Clenching his jaw, Rick nodded, seeing the difference. "I know, but-"
"No buts," Daryl shook his head abruptly. "You don't wanna tell him today? I get that, it makes sense, but stop making excuses."
"I'm not m-"
"Hang onto yah tits and let me talk, alright?" Daryl cut him off impatiently. "You and Carrie ain't in a position to keep waiting. You taking a big fucking risk, alright? This gon' bite you in the ass if you don't handle your shit!"
"Handle my shit?" he questioned angrily. "I don't have time to handle my shit, I'm too busy making sure people aren't beating their wives to death."
Daryl shook his head, unconcerned by Rick's outburst. "I'm telling yah man, get rid of his ammunition. Tell Carl before he does, then you got nothin' to worry about."
Restlessly twisting the heel of his boot into the ground, Rick began to feel rather defeated by everything going on. "That doesn't fix the problem with Pete. What about Judith? If he doesn't have Carl as ammunition against me, he'll use her."
Remembering what Carol had told him, Daryl sighed dejectedly. "Don't piss him off?"
"Alright. I practically forced his wife to leave him, but sure…I won't piss him off."
Taking his crossbow off his shoulder and lowering it to the ground, Daryl clenched his jaw as he looked around to assess their safety. "You do whatever you gotta do to look after those kids of yours," he began slowly, continuing only when Rick looked up at him. "I'll back you up all the way, you know that."
Though he appreciated the words, always trusting Daryl had his back regardless, it was of little comfort to him. "I can't kill him," he said bluntly, broaching the subject they were both dancing around. "I can't do anything to him."
"Why? 'Cause of Maggie?"
Nodding, he looked at the hole he had made in the ground with the heel of his boot, studying it as though that's where the answers to his problems were buried. "Denise is better than anyone expected, but she's got no experience managing a pregnancy or delivery, let alone pre-eclampsia. Maggie needs Pete, whether I like it or not."
"So…what are you gonna do?"
"I don't know," he admitted softly, kicking at the hole he had made. "I don't fucking know."
There was a long silence now, the type that fell suddenly and felt difficult t overcome. Still staying the hole he had left in the ground Rick tried to rest his weary mind, trusting that Daryl was keeping watch, that he was protecting them both. He felt bone tired, weary of handling other people's problems while his own took second place. But that was changing today, it had to…he couldn't tell Carl about he and Carrie, but he could deal with the newest problem that had sprung up on him. Carl had been sneaking out, he'd lied to Daryl when he was caught…that was a problem that could not wait a moment more. But when he raised his head to suggest that they start heading home, he noted that Daryl seemed to be on edge, his body language tense and uncomfortable.
"Now what?" Rick questioned impatiently, recognising his expression. "If you've got something else to say, let's hear it."
Shifting his weight uncomfortably, Daryl sighed as he plunged his hand into his pocket and withdrew his cigarettes. Stepping over the dead Walker he held them out to Rick again.
"No, thank you."
"Fucking take one, please?" Daryl insisted. "Trust me…you gonna need it."
Completely at his wits end, he grit his teeth and took a second, catching Daryl's lighter a moment later. "Happy now?" he asked, dangling the cigarette between his lips as he lit it.
"Over the moon," he muttered, pocketing the lighter again.
"So, what is it?"
Still looking uncomfortable, Daryl avoided eye contact as he answered. "Aaron and me…we did somethin' you ain't gonna like."
"What?"
"When we were out recruitin'…we went out west."
"West?"
"Yeah…towards Ohio."
Realisation dawned on Rick, and he glared daggers at Daryl as he took a much needed draw on his cigarette. "Please tell me you're kidding."
"No."
"You son of…" he trailed off before he said something he regretted. Gritting his teeth, he clenched his fists together as he tried to think, struggling to comprehend the stupidity of what they had done. Marion, Ohio was the base for another settlement of survivors much like Alexandria. They knew very little about them other than they were a large settlement with enough people and means to send out half a dozen run crews into neighbouring states, and that these run crews were of the violent disposition. "You and Aaron went to Ohio without back up?"
"Well it ain't like we knocked on their doors and introduced ourselves."
"You might as well have!"
"It's done now," Daryl dismissed, looking like he regretted his honesty.
"Why would you do that? If you wanted to check them out, we could have organised a full run crew to do it, not you and Aaron alone!"
Like he always did Daryl just shrugged and then avoided eye contact, tilting his head so that he could hide behind his hair. "We was heading that way already…and then we just went there. Didn't really talk about it. We left Merle's motorcycle and just took the car…too noisy, yah know."
Biting back the harsh remark he wanted to make, Rick instead took a long drag of the cigarette and then tried to think. "I take it you found them?"
Daryl nodded, taking a deep breath before he answered. "They're just like us. Similar set up, similar types of people."
"No, they're not," he rebuked him sharply. "They're not like us at all. They attacked us without provocation, they…" he trailed off, thinking of Granger who had been a part of that community's run crew. He'd been one of the men who had raped Carrie the previous year, and had then moved on to join the Ohio group when he escaped her attempt to kill him. "They're not like us."
"They seem organised," Daryl continued after an uncomfortable pause. "But they got dead weight too…a lot of it."
"Where are they, exactly?"
"In some gated community. Lots of big, fancy houses…their walls aren't that big, but they're all more in the centre of the community, so they're not attracting many Walkers. They got some watch points, plenty of food and ammunition from the sounds of it. Aaron and I, we just kept our distance and listened."
"How many people?"
"Hard to say, we didn't really get a look."
"No chatter about us? About them meeting us on the supply run?"
"Not that we heard."
Rick fell silent again, seething now as he thought about what Daryl had told him. He knew what Daryl was like, that he was impulsive and reckless when he got a bold idea in his head, but he had hoped Aaron's level headedness and caution would even the two of them out. As if he didn't have enough to worry about, now Daryl was giving him more reason to worry when he took his next recruiting run? What if the people from Ohio had noticed them? What if Daryl and Aaron had been followed back to Alexandria?
"Going there by yourself was pretty stupid," he muttered as he got to his feet, stamping the cigarette butt out with the toe of his boot. "You know that, right?"
"Yeah, I know," he said, unabashed by his chastisement.
Without another word they set off back towards Alexandria, having almost completed their circuit. But as they drew closer and closer an unsettling feeling of dread settled over Rick, the type that made him want to delay his return home. In fact, with every step closer to the gates he became distinctly aware that he didn't want to go home, he didn't want to face his responsibilities as a father. Parenting Carl in the way he needed to meant that Carrie was going to suffer, that she was going to be put as second best. He knew that it was the right thing to do, that he had to be a parent first above all else, but in the back of his mind a small fear was beginning to grow. Carrie insisted that she understood his need to be a parent first, but surely being always put in second place would start to grow old. As much as he didn't want to have to confront Carl about sneaking out, he didn't want to see the look on Carrie's face when he told her they had to delay. He didn't think he could bear to see her disappointment and thinly veiled accusation.
"Just…" Rick began awkwardly, glancing at Daryl. Ahead of them was the gate, their return home having loomed up at him sooner than he expected. He really didn't want to go in there today. "Just…wait."
"Wait?" Daryl frowned, looking at him in confusion. "For what?"
He hesitated, trying to answer Daryl's question. "Just…one more lap," he decided, feeling relieved as he came to this realisation and decision. "One more lap, and then we'll go in."
Sitting dejectedly at the top of the staircase, Carrie sighed as she listened to the voices downstairs, her heart filled with grim disappointment before it even began. Daryl had just caught her as she headed for the stairs, giving her a low warning that she ought not go down there just yet. With a tense expression and Judith on his hip he looked at her sympathetically as he explained what was going on, that Rick was about to confront Carl with his suspicion that he had been sneaking over the walls. Even though they hadn't told anyone about it yet, Carrie got the feeling that Daryl knew that she and Rick were making a serious attempt at their relationship, and that they had been planning to tell Carl that afternoon. Though she didn't mind it, she should have known that Rick would go to Daryl for advice, that he'd tell Daryl everything.
So while Daryl and Judith retreated into his attic bedroom, Carrie sat on the top of the stairs and listened to Rick confronting his son. Despite what Daryl had told her, she crossed her fingers and hoped that it wasn't true, that Carl denied everything and that Rick believed him. If Carl was about to get into serious trouble, then there was no way Rick would be willing to tell him about their relationship. Selfishly hoping that none of it was true, she waited with bated breath for the outcome of their talk…she didn't have to wait long. Rick confronted him straight away, and when he realised that he had been caught Carl seemed to know he had no choice but to come clean.
"Yeah…I did," he said quietly, his voice only just audible to Carrie upstairs.
"You did what?" Rick demanded, expecting a full confession.
"I snuck out…I climbed over the walls."
"How many times?" There was a brief pause before Rick repeated his question, telling his son to speak up.
"I don't know," he finally answered. "Not all the time…just, sometimes."
"What else did you do?"
"Umm…"
"What else?"
Carrie sighed to herself. God dammit Carl, what else have you done?
"I…I lied about it."
"You lied to Daryl!" Rick said, the anger in his voice making Carrie cringe.
"Yes. I told him that I was allowed to be outside."
"How could you ever expect him to trust you again?" he asked, his voice growing more upset. "Daryl loves you like his own brother. He trusts you, and you threw that away by lying to his face, by deceiving him."
"I-I'm sorry, Dad," Carl started hastily apologising. "I…I didn't mean to lie, it jus-"
"Why would you even do this, why would you sneak out? I don't lock you up in here, I don't treat you like a child! Is this how you should repay that? Carl?"
"No."
"Then why did you do it?"
As Carl gave a heavy sigh Carrie braced herself, hoping he came up with an incredible excuse, one that gave Rick no option other than to forgive him. That's what she needed right now, she needed for this to all blow over. If it didn't, Rick wouldn't tell him about their relationship, she knew he wouldn't.
"I did it because wanted to," Carl finally explained, knowing it wasn't enough. "I wanted to be out there, to stay strong and…you know."
"You go outside all the time," Rick reminded him, his tone becoming strangely calm. "Four or five times a week at least. You do rounds with me, you help with the spikes and the pits, you help cut trees and work on construction. Wanting to be outside is not a good enough reason to lie."
"I know, I just want to…I wanted to be alone," he finally confessed. "I wanted to be by myself."
There was a long pause, and Carrie imagined Rick and Carl standing off from one another, Rick very calmly considering his options, considering the merit of what Carl had told him. But even before he began speaking again Carrie knew what was going to happen, she knew what he would say.
"Well I hope you enjoyed your time out there. You won't be going out again for a very long time."
"What?"
"I understand the need to be alone, I feel that need too," Rick told him. "But that doesn't excuse what you've done. You're grounded, for a month."
Carrie gasped in horror.
"A month!" Carl exclaimed, raising his voice for the first time. "Dad, no. You can't be serious."
"I am."
"No, that's too long!" he appealed desperately. "A month is-"
"A very, very long time these days," Rick said lowly. "And that's how long you're going to be grounded."
"But Dad, that-"
"I don't want to hear any arguing. You're grounded for a month, that's your punishment."
There was a horrible silence now, Carrie sitting at the top of the stairs as her heart pounded. This was worse that she anticipated, far worse. These days time passed slowly, and a month was an incredibly long time. Given that she'd been living in Alexandria for a little over two months, she had agree with Carl's protest that it was too long. Rick must be furious with him, he must be completely livid. As she waited with bated breath she wondered what Carl was going to say, whether he'd accept his punishment or he'd fight it. She didn't have to wait long.
"Fine! Ground me, I don't care," Carl snarled angrily. "It's not like I have anywhere to go in the first place."
"Hey, hey!" Rick shouted, the sound of heavy footsteps audible from upstairs. "Don't walk away from me. Who do you think you are?"
"But you-"
"The conversation is not over, Carl. Look at me. If you think being grounded is no big deal, you're sorely mistaken. While ever you're not at school or doing homework, you're going to be working. There are toilets that need scrubbing, windows to clean, weeding, lawns that need to be mown…the next two weeks will consist of work and school. There's no going on rounds, no more working with Tobin in his wood shop, no more seeing your friends-"
"I don't have any friends!"
"Two weeks of that, and if your attitude changes enough I'll reevaluate the final two weeks."
"This is seriously over kill!" Carl protested. "All I did was-"
"I said I don't want to hear it," Rick cut him off, having no patience for his arguments. "You're going to take your punishment and be grateful it's not worse. You owe Daryl an apology, and when this is over you're going to give me a very good reason as to why you're deserving of my trust once again."
There was a long pause, Carl dumb with horror as his punishment began sinking in. When he finally spoke Carrie had to strain her ears to hear it.
"Dad, I'm sorry…I was fine out there. I did everything I was supposed to, I took precautions. You know I can handle myself."
"You think this is about you being outside alone? If you want to go out alone, then fine! I'll make it happen for you, I'll give you privacy outside the walls if that's what you want! That's not the problem here. You deceived me, and you looked Daryl in the eye and betrayed his trust." There was a long bout of silence now, and Carrie swore she could hear her own heart pounding as she waited for Rick to continue. "Do you understand why I'm upset? Why you're being punished?"
"Yes," Carl said quietly, his remorse evident. "I'm sorry, Dad. I just-"
"I said, I don't want to hear it," Rick cut him off again, though his tone eased a little. "I've never been so disappointed in you."
Carrie's heart sank even further into her stomach…there was nothing quite as shameful as hearing your parents tell you they were disappointed in you. Anger was one thing, disappointment was something entirely different.
"You've got an hour before school starts," Rick stated calmly. "Go to your room and make sure your homework is finished."
There was silence for a long moment, Carrie picturing Carl's regret as he turned on his heel and did as he was told. At the sound of his approaching footsteps she promptly leapt to her feet, hesitating for a moment as she looked down the hall way to her bedroom. She didn't want him to catch her eavesdropping, but she'd never make it to her bedroom in time. Making a split second decision she swiftly made her way up the staircase towards Daryl's bedroom, stopping after the landing where Carl could no longer see her. Sitting down with a weary sigh, she listened as he reached the first floor and went into the bedroom he shared with Rick, quietly closing the door behind himself. Waiting, she wondered if she would be privy to any of Carl's furious yells or rants, if he'd emit a loud shout of frustration that would surely just infuriate Rick even more. To her relief he did not, and with the confrontation concluded, the entire house became eerily silent.
Sitting alone just outside the curtin that gave Daryl privacy in the attic, Carrie fought back the angry, frustrated tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. She'd been waiting so long for today, for the moment that they'd finally tell Carl about their relationship, but before she even had a chance to talk to Rick, she knew he'd be stalling it. The worst thing was, she wouldn't blame him. The discovery that Carl had been sneaking over the walls for many weeks now was a major problem, almost as bad as the fact he had apparently lied to Daryl about it at one stage. This was not something that could be over looked…Rick needed to focus on this, he needed to properly address what his son had done.
But he promised her...he promised.
Clenching her hands into fists, she silently cursed Carl for ruining this day for her, for Rick too. All she wanted right now was for something to go her way, and yet there always seemed to be something working against them. Every time she and Rick found happiness together, it was only ever short lived. The world external to them both always broke in, it always ruined things. First Carl and Ron fighting, then the problems with Pete and Jessie, the stolen guns…now Carl was screwing this up for them again. There was always something, and though she kept telling Rick that there'd never be a perfect time, she knew he was still trying to wait for it.
Movement behind her made her look around, and she hastily wiped her eyes and looked away as Daryl came out of his bedroom. He lingered for a moment and adjusted the curtains, leaving them open so that he could watch Judith who was playing happily on his rug, and then he took a seat on the stairs beside Carrie.
"You alright?" he asked, his tone a mixture of concern and awkwardness. Daryl wasn't really one for conversation, but he made the effort when he saw it necessary.
She wasn't. She was truly at her wits end, and she wasn't sure how much more of this stalling and waiting that she could take. "Yeah," she nodded, clearing her throat and then smiling. "Just frustrated, that's all."
"Mmm," he grunted, his hand in his pocket flicking the lid of his lighter. "You know, Rick…he didn't wan' it to go like this. He-"
"I know," she said honestly, believing this to be true.
Daryl scratched his nose, shifting around a little. "I, uhh…I heard what happened with y'all," he said. When he gestured to the cast on her arm, she knew he was referring to Noah and Aidan's deaths. "I'm glad you're alright. I heard tha' you…you know…"
Though she appreciated Daryl's floundering attempts to express his sadness, she changed the subject when she felt her eyes beginning to water again. "I take it the man you brought back is staying? Gordon?"
"Yeah, he is. Aaron and Erin are putting him up at their place for now. He's not very…social."
"I'm glad its worked out for him."
Daryl shrugged nonchalantly. "Means you ain't the newest resident no more. You been bumped."
She smiled despite the situation. "I'll give up my crown, no problem." Looking at him appreciatively, she smiled at him before reluctantly getting up. "I have to go…I'm sorry."
When he grunted his usual response she tucked her broken arm against her stomach and then hugged him tightly, sighing in relief when he returned it, albeit clumsily. Taking what she could get, for Daryl didn't often offer physical affection, she held him tightly and then kissed his cheek as she stood up, amused by the flash of embarrassment on his face.
"We've missed you," she said sincerely. "I hope you stay a while this time."
"Hey, wait," he said suddenly, catching her before she disappeared around the landing. "Do us a favour, yeah?"
"Sure."
He hesitated before asking, looking unsure of himself. "Just go easy on him," he requested, not needing to clarify who they were talking about. "I don't think he's doin' so good at the moment."
Taking this in, Carrie simply nodded. "See you around."
With nothing else to say they simply left it at that, and Carrie headed back down to the first floor and returned to her bedroom. Taking the new jacket Olivia had given her, one that would accommodate the cast on her arm, she took it with her and headed downstairs. Daryl's request that she go easy on Rick lingered in the back of her mind, for although she couldn't blame him if he wanted to stall the delivery of their news, that didn't mean she wasn't mad as hell. Besides…with what she was about to do, going easy on him wasn't exactly going to happen.
When she got downstairs she caught a glimpse of Rick's silhouette standing outside on the front porch. Knowing that he was likely waiting for her to come down, she found her water bottle from the draining rack in the kitchen and then filled it with water before heading to the gun safe. Well adapted to using her left hand for most things, she entered the combination and took out her Ruger. She checked the magazine and took note that there was a round in the chamber, then slipped it into the holster she now wore on her left leg. As she closed the safe and secured the child lock on the cupboard door she braced herself to speak with Rick, knowing he wasn't going to be happy with her plans for the afternoon.
Rick looked up at her when she came outside, his face bearing not only the injuries from his brawl with Pete, but also the weight of what he had learnt about Carl. It had only just passed eleven o'clock in the morning, but he looked like he'd already put in a full day of work. Daryl was right, it didn't seem that Rick was doing so good at the moment…why hadn't she noticed this?
"Hey," she greeted him awkwardly, wanting to be the one who spoke first. "Is everything okay with Carl?"
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked out at the gardens. "Yes…no," he corrected himself. "I'm sure Daryl told you."
"He did."
Placing both his hands on the porch railing, he turned away from her as he continued speaking, his head bowed. "The thing is, Carrie, we -"
"I know," she cut him off, knowing what he was going to say.
"I want to," he started to say. "You know I do, but -"
"I know," she repeated, trying and failing not to sound tense.
There was an awkward pause, Rick still avoiding eye contact until he finally looked up at her with a long sigh. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely, looking as disappointed as she felt. "I know I promised it would be today. Please, don't be mad."
"I'm not mad."
He raised an eyebrow at this. "Really?" he questioned. "Because you seem furious."
She wasn't furious, rather she just felt like she had nothing left except bitter disappointment. "I am mad, but not at you. I get it. That's why I'm mad."
"I don't understand."
"Not telling him is the right call," she stated simply. "So I can't be mad that you're breaking your promise, because you're doing the right thing."
Rick seemed unsatisfied with this explanation, and he closed his eyes as he took a deep breath. "So, you're mad at me because you can't be mad at me?"
She paused, considering this. "Yes."
"Okay," he nodded, his voice tinged with sarcasm. "What am I supposed to do about that?"
"Nothing," she shook her head honestly. Letting that linger for a moment, she brushed her loose hair behind her ears, wishing she had thought to grab a hair tie. "I have to go, I want to get ready for a run."
As she fully expected, Rick's eyes widened in surprise, alarm crossing his face as she turned away and descended the porch steps. "A run?" he questioned, beginning to follow her. "You're going on a run?"
She nodded, gritting her teeth when he darted in front of her and blocked her path. "We're not going far."
"You shouldn't be going on a run," he said angrily, acting as though she had personally offended him. "Not in your condition."
His tone was contagious, making it only too easy for her to forget Daryl's request that she go easy on him. "My condition?"
"You've got a broken wrist."
"And my other one works just fine."
"You can't even defend yourself," he continued, trying to reason with her.
Her frustration peaking, she snapped at him. "Yes, I can! I've been practicing, my aim is just fine."
"But you…" he started, trailing off and taking a deep breath. Taking a step backwards, he seemed to thoroughly consider his words before speaking again. "Carrie, you haven't been outside the walls since it happened…since the last supply run."
"I have," she said incredulously. "You know I have, you're the one who went with me."
"Once, and I practically had to drag you out there," he continued, his tone still annoyingly calm and reasonable. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"
"Yes."
He hesitated, but he seemed certain of himself. "I don't think you are," he disagreed apologetically. "You don't have anything to prove by going back out there."
Carrie stood her ground, her frustration and anger at the situation making her take it all out on him. "You're entitled to your opinion."
"Don't be like that," he argued, following her as she set off again. "Carrie!"
"You are not in charge of the run crew, Glenn is. I asked him days ago if I could come on the next one, and he said yes."
"I can overrule him. I -."
"Don't you dare," she growled at him, stopping abruptly. "You do that to me, and I'll never forgive you for it."
"I don't think you're ready," he insisted, softening his tone in attempt to make her do the same. "I'm ju-"
"I don't care what you think!" she snapped at him. "I don't answer to you! Don't try controlling me just because you're pissed off with Carl."
Rick sighed now as he rubbed the bridge of his nose, a habit that expressed his frustration. "Carrie, please. I'm asking nicely now…don't go."
She laughed at him incredulously. "You think you can manipulate me that easily?"
"I'm not trying to manipulate you. I'm asking you, please don't go."
Shaking her head she refused him once again. She turned and began to walk away, but slowed down after only a few yards and turned back. Behind him in the distance the gate was being hauled open, admitting the run van that Abraham and his group had taken to the safe houses. "We're going five miles to pick fruit," she told him, trying to appease him. "We won't even be two hours."
"Then why even bother?"
"Because I want to go, I want to get back out there. You should be glad I am."
"Carrie, j-"
She didn't let him continue, cutting him off abruptly as she walked away. "I'm going, and I don't need your permission.
Clenching her fists she walked away angrily, furious with him for this. She was nervous enough about going on a run with a broken wrist, the last she needed was him putting doubts in her head, making her feel nervous or unsure. Was it too much to ask for a little support? For a few words of encouragement? To her frustration she didn't get much time to dwell on this, or to alleviate her frustration, for the run van passed her and skidded to a stop in front of the Infirmary. The doors opened, the occupants jumping out in quite the hurry, Sasha from the driver's side and Anna from the passenger.
Seeing that something was wrong, Rick hastened to join them. "What happened? Is everyone alright?"
"Everyone's fine," Sasha said immediately, getting the reassurances out of the way. "But we've got a problem…three of them."
Seeing Anna's distraught and frightened face, Carrie had to agree with the latter. "Are you okay?" she asked her kindly, relieved when she nodded.
"Three of those Wolves found our second safe house," Sasha began explaining. "The big one out in the suburbs. They got away from us."
"Shit," Rick muttered, sharing a concerned glance with Carrie. "They get anything?"
"Made a feast of some of our food, probably stuffed their pockets when they saw us coming."
"No one got hurt?" Rick clarified, looking at the van and wondering where the others were.
"No, they high tailed it just as we got there. Glenn, Rosita and Abraham stayed, Anna and I came back to bring reinforcements."
Carrie's heart began to sink, and selfishly too. She'd been depending on the supply run to pick fruit, she'd been looking forward to it. Now it would have to be put on hold, for the priority would be to clear out the discovered safe house, but with her broken wrist she'd be dead weight during that operation. It would make sense for her to stay behind, to miss out on the opportunity to get back out there, to reacclimatise herself to the world that still existed beyond the walls. While she was frustrated and disappointed, she had no doubt that Rick would be pleased with the change in circumstances…one glance at his expression indicated that he was.
There was nothing she could do but accept it. "You'll need to take extra people," she muttered, looking at Sasha before setting off towards the armoury, her original destination anyway. "I'll cover the watch posts for you."
Rick began to follow, his expression apologetic now. "Carrie, yo-"
"Don't," she said lowly, not wanting to hear him say that it was best, or that she was doing the right thing.
His shoulders slumped as she strode past him, his expression souring. "I thought you weren't mad at me," he said, not caring if Sasha or Anna heard.
Feeling petulant and wronged she ignored his comment, angered tears welling up in her eyes until she blinked furiously as she walked away. Her disposition was noted by all innocent parties she happened to pass, her expression alarming Olivia so much that she questioned whether or not she should be going into the armoury. More frustrated than she felt in weeks she did her best to placate Olivia, to reassure her she wasn't about to go off the deep end, but it took all her self-control not to insist she join the new crew heading back to the safe house. Daryl's request that she go easy on Rick had been denied, that much was for sure, but she wasn't even certain she regretted it. She knew she'd been a bitch to him, that she'd picked a fight instead of calming alleviating his fears…but she couldn't help herself. She wanted to prove him wrong, to proudly show that he couldn't boss her around, that he wasn't in charge of her…the circumstances just wouldn't allow for it. The fruit picking would have to wait for another day, as would their plans to tell Carl.
Daryl had told her Rick wasn't doing so good…problem was, neither was she.
A/N I loved writing this chapter, I had a lot of fun writing the warring scenes between the main characters, and I hope you enjoyed too. Don't forget to give me a shout out by leaving a review with your thoughts on the chapter and story.
And as if I could forget to mention, only three days until Season 7!