XXXVI.
Back in the days there was this kind old social worker who used to come to visit them on the foster homes for a while, and the lady had always used to tell them some verse from Bible for every situation they might have, but the old woman's favorite had always been; whoever seeks good finds favor, but evil comes to one who searches for it.
Listening to what Daryl had found at the quarry, Amanda thought how ironic it was, because they had looked for trouble and had found it, but it was still a blessing.
From her perch at the windowsill where she sat with Beth, Amanda threw a look outside. There was a gloom now in the air, the evening was nearing. Rick and Daryl had left three hours ago. Amanda had already realized it was even worse than what Daryl had briefly explained, and now they were explaining it… an army of walkers herded up in a bowel. It was a blessing that they'd found it. All the time they'd been here, this was how close they'd truly been to the danger, and how fucking clueless they had been. Amanda briefly touched her stomach with her fingertips.
This was what her baby had missed out, what it'd been spared off, and for a moment—for a moment Amanda couldn't help but feel a bit of relief—and it made her feel even worse, if it was possible, but it was still there. Maybe—maybe it was really for the best. She was sorry her baby couldn't make it—couldn't get a life, she'd so much wanted it, but to truth be told, if her baby had come to the world, that was what would've greeted it.
A world full of walking corpses that wanted to eat them limb by limb, a world of misery where you could never be safe, and parents who would've brought you into this shithole only to fulfill their shits. Maybe…maybe it was really a blessing.
But it all made sense now. She'd finally understood, finally figured out what had been going on between them, and there was that relief in her again, like—like she had finally solved a mystery, like she'd finally found the missing piece of a puzzle and everything clinked in.
Her eyes skipped at Rick who was standing up at the other side of the corner from her, close to Deanne, a grim experience over his face, and Amanda wondered if he'd been also thinking of his dead wife, dreaming of the woman while he'd fucked her as she lost herself to him with all she had. Her eyes watered again, and her hand fisted… she wanted to hit something. She wanted to break something. Everything. She felt broken—like—like inside her something was shattered—fractured, and every piece was cutting her now—and she was—she was bloody angry, too! She should've known!
She so should've known it! How she could be this stupid! This…naïve…thinking a man like Rick would've loved her for being who she was. But she had always known it, too, hadn't she? She was even more of a band-aid than what she had assumed of.
"There was a camp at the bottom. They must have blocked the exits with one of their trucks back when everything started to go bad," The head of the Alexandria's other supply runner group said as if an explanation. They'd come back this morning, Amanda had seen them at the gates, this must've been the suckiest welcome back home surprise gift had anyone ever to be given.
As soon as they'd returned, Rick had demanded everyone in the city gathered at the Deann's house, so here they were, all sitting in the living room, listening… and worrying… and fearing… It never ended… It just never did.
"And no one checked it again?" Amanda asked tersely from her windowsill where she perched her back at the corner, one leg dangling over the floor, a great deal away from Rick.
Hearing her talking, though, his eyes trailed at her, like the rest of the room, but Amanda kept hers dutifully on the other man.
"Every town worth scavenging are all in the other direction, toward D.C," the younger man answered, "And I never really felt like having a picnic next to the camp that ate itself."
Amanda nodded. Even Rick had been planning on supply runs closer to D.C.
Rick walked into the middle of the room. "So all the while the walkers have been drawn by the sound," he summarized the situation and told them their dilemma, "and they're making more sound and they're drawing more in—" His eyes wandered around the room among the town's residents, weighting them up and down, "And here we are."
And here they were…fucked up and deep in shit.
She barely contained a bitter scoff inside. To think she had thought she would get a family, a baby—get to live. Such a naivety. She wanted to slap herself.
"We're going to lead them away," Rick stated then, his voice as stern as his eyes, full of certainty. A finality.
But they all stared at him. "Can—we—how can we do it?" a man from construction crew, the man had once gotten into a fight with Abraham asked, Amanda tried to recall his name, Carton—or Carter, or something, there were still a lot of Alexandrian people she didn't know. Obviously, she needed to get her shit together, levelled up her game. She couldn't go on like this now, depend on Rick any longer.
Rick nodded, "Yeah, we're gonna round them up and herd them—like police at a parade," he explained, and Amanda frowned. That might work on a smaller herd, but the herd they talked about sounded like an army… There would be so much distractions, diversions for a thing like that work on such a big scale.
"I know it sounds risky," Rick continued as if he'd heard what she had thought, "but walkers are already slipping through the exits," he went on, "One of the trucks keeping the walkers in could go off the edge any day now. Maybe tomorrow maybe after one more hard rain. That exit sends them east. All of them. Right at us." He levelled at them another look, "This isn't about if it gives, it's when," he said pointedly, bobbing his head too for an extra measure, "It's gonna happen," he said sternly, then his eyes skipped to her, "Consider yourself lucky Amanda wanted us to check the quarry." He paused, "We found it before it's happened. This's a blessing."
Their eyes caught at each other, and they shared a glance—and it took everything in her not to burst into tears… Why—why? Even they thought alike—acted alike…having the same fears and distrust… same hands covered with blood… But they were trying, fighting with teeth and nails…and every day was a new day, so they got up and fought…. She remembered the barn, remembered how he'd kissed her—telling her they should've stopped even when opening her pants… All the things they'd shared—the way he'd looked at her—raising her tied hands above her head, giving her what she'd wanted—all of this… all of those amazing moment… just because she looked like his old wife! Just because he wanted to get the life he couldn't have had with her. And that was Amanda was—what she had always been; a substitution for the all things he'd lost, nothing more.
You could be more.
God, she was such an idiot.
"Maybe there is another way," the man from construction crew opposed, shaking his head, bringing Amanda back to the real world. "I mean, we just couldn't build up the weak spots at the walls?" His eyes searched for Reg, and asked him, "We can try to make it safe, right?"
But in answer, Rick shook his head before the older man could speak, "The sounds of those walkers make draws more and more every day. Walkers herd up," he told them, "Building up the exits won't change that. We need to deal with them."
Deanna then spoke too; "We'll do what Rick says," the older woman said.
And it really looked like they'd found their common ground. It seemed that the chances that Daryl and Aaron would go out and find another community had gone below zero. Amanda didn't know how it felt; looking for others were a risk, but it was becoming very clear to her again that staying in the same house after they'd blown things up was going to be problematic. Even more than before. She wasn't even sure that going to another house and pretend like he didn't exist would work now. She should stop kidding herself now. If she stayed and saw Rick every day, she would've never finished this. Never. And she had to finish this, right? She couldn't go on like this, they couldn't go on like this.
"We're gonna have Daryl leading them away on a bike," Rick started explaining his plan further, "Aaron says they have a bike?" He turned to the other man. Aaron nodded. "All right," Rick continued, "We'll have two teams one on each side of the forest helping manage this thing, they'll help to keep the walkers on the road, not going astray in the woods. We're gonna have a few people on watch from now on. Rosita, Spencer, and Holly. So they're out." His eyes wandered around the room, this time purposefully avoiding her, and Amanda knew the reason, too, "So who's in?" he asked then.
She almost rolled her eyes and frowned as soon as Michonne raised her hand.
Of course.
She wondered if that was the reason why Rick hadn't acted on with Michonne… Michonne didn't really look like Lori. She snickered bitter inside. No, she was the lucky one. Then, next to her, Beth raised her hand, too. "I'll drive next to Daryl. He can't be alone."
Daryl's head snapped up, and he gave Beth a look, and expectedly said, "No."
"Yes," Beth stressed out, "I can do it."
Amanda sensed another no following from Daryl, so she quickly jumped in before Daryl could respond. Beth hated left behind, and Amanda understood it, and she also knew if she stayed behind too without nothing but thinking she might lose her mind—she needed action. "I go with her," so she said, "We take a car and ride next to him."
As soon as the words spoke out, Rick's head snapped up at her, too, and his answer expectedly wasn't any different than Daryl's either, "No. You stay in."
Amanda shook her head. "I'm fine." She was fine. Sometimes it still hurt, a slight pain at her groin but it was no longer was like a spasm that cut inside her. She'd seen a light spot of redness in her underwear two days ago but since then bleeding also had stopped. She was fine. Moreover, she was still a damn cop! They needed her out there. "Daryl can't do this alone," she went on, "We'll keep them coming, Daryl will keep them from getting sloppy as you deal with the rest at the banks of the road."
Rick took a few steps toward her from the other side of the room, and leaned down, "Amanda, you're just—"
"I'm fine," she repeated, cutting him off, and seriously were they having this conversation now? She turned to Abraham before Rick spoke again, "Abraham could come, too." She looked at the ex-military muscles and the man nodded. "Yeah, it's a long way to be alone."
Rick tossed at a glance at Abraham, his face souring, but returning to her he only said, "We'll talk it later—" she opened her mouth but he beat her to it, "Who else?" he asked, turning away from her, "We need more."
The man from the construction crew shook his head. "There's got to be another way," the man said, "We can't just control that many."
Well, that was the whole point of this, really, but the man had still a point. This wasn't going to be a picnic. But if this wouldn't work, and it had a good percentage that it wouldn't—they should have a contingency plan. They couldn't do such a big thing without a plan B, hell even without preparing a Plan C and D, and the rest of the whole alphabet. But that was going to have to wait. The people of Alexandria didn't need to hear of those possibilities now. They needed to hear that it would work. People most of times just needed to hear it was going to be okay, everything was going to be okay. This was one of those times, too. So Amanda kept her silence, but already started inwardly a risk analysis—what could have gone wrong…what they would do if it did—
"I said it before," Rick told the man, "walkers herd up. They'll follow a path if something's drawing them."
"So, what? We're supposed to just take your word for it?" Well, that was kinda a stupid question, given that Rick had been out there since the beginning, but the man had always been inside the walls, safe and secure, but Amanda still read what the words really meant beneath. She caught then him sharing a look with Spencer, "We're all supposed to just fall in line behind you now?" the man then asked openly.
Deanne spoke before no one else could, "Rick and I have come to an agreement. From now on, all decisions regarding the safety of this community will be his call," she informed the townspeople, "We'll do what he says—" Her eyes bore through him, "And he'll keep us safe."
Rick shook his head at the older woman and turned at them, too, "We'll keep us safe. We'll make this work. We'll keep this place up. Keep our families safe." His eyes briefly touched hers again, "We will."
There was a sudden silence in the room again as everyone looked at him after his words. Amanda knew he was trying, trying his best to be the leader he wanted to be, but before anyone did something, Jessie's older son stood up— "And what if we make a mistake?" the boy asked, sending a heated glare at Rick, "Will you kill us, too?" and asked again before he stormed out of the room.
Jessie jumped on her feet after him, giving an apologetic look around the room, shaking her head. "I—I'm sorry," she murmured, jogging after her son. Amanda felt her eyes watering again, and jumping down, she left the room, too.
# # #
"Marshall and Redding," Rick said, pointing the intersection of the two roads at the map over the table later in the day when they had finally left alone in Deanne's study and started working on the plan.
His nerves were so tensed, his muscles so strained, Rick felt he could split in two. Today was definitely going to be one of those days. It'd started with that damn fight with Amanda, gotten worsened after he'd left with Daryl and saw what had happened at the quarry, how Alexandria had survived this long without troubles. He'd been wondering about that, and now he got his answer. It'd been nothing but a miracle of sorts, and he'd been telling truth; they were damn lucky that Amanda had made them check the quarry looking for stones. Even the thought of those herd coming up at them unawares was enough to send down shivers through his spine—and Jessie's older boy had just added the cherry at the top—no, today was definitely going to be one of those days. What if we make a mistake?
He didn't kill Pete Anderson because the man made a mistake! No, Rick killed him because the man had lost control, beat his children and wife, and had caused the death of his unborn child, knowing or unknowing it didn't matter, because if Rick let him live, he could only grow worse. He deserved it. No one could convince him otherwise. The man was a bad father, abusive and vile but Ron was still his son.
We gave himself a slight head shake, recalling how he carried Amanda to the infirmary bleeding in his arms, how much she had cried—how much she had screamed— how their relationship was strained now because of the loss of their child… No. Rick wasn't remorseful. The bastard deserved it, but still seeing the young boy made him—feel prickled.
Inwardly, he pushed the thought away. Ron—Jessie—Sam—they all were going to have to accept this was the world they lived in now. Rick was going to do it. He wasn't going to lose Alexandria. He still had a promise to keep. He tapped at the intersection with his finger, "We force them west here."
"How?" Deanne asked, looking at the map.
"We block it off so they can only go one way, west, away from the community," Rick explained, blocking the east part of the crossroad to show them his point with his fingertip. They were reduced into the numbers now, a small group of heads discussing the plan. After the show-off with Ron, following Amanda, the townspeople had left too.
Amanda… his thoughts briefly wandered away again toward her. He should find and talk to her. They had to finish that damn talk she'd started, and she had to stay back in until this all got resolved, she had had a miscarriage a few days ago, for Christ's sake! She had no place driving a car herding up an army of dead. She was driving him crazy. He loved her, she knew it. Was it really that important how it happened? Why it happened? They lived in a crazy, insane world, was it too much to ask just to have it? Hold her in his arms, make love to her? Feel it—the peace. Despite all things happened, that night, while they just had laid down between each other's embrace was the most peaceful moment Rick had felt for a long time, and he wanted that! Dammit, he wanted to hold her—burry his head at her shoulder, breath her scent in—good and bad altogether, he wanted to burry himself in her…
It was there—that thing between them, it'd always been there…since the time she'd called him out at his back, her gun at her hand, and told him she'd saved some people, too, it'd been there. Why she was constantly fighting with it? He supposed she'd probably never felt it before—never felt being loved—but she had to stop now, stop questioning it but believe it, believe him. He wanted her to believe in him, believe them.
"Block it off with what?" Tobin's assistant from the construction crew, Carter, asked, pulling him back to from his thoughts, "Cars?"
There was still an underlined unease in his words, and Rick knew the man believed in him as much as Ron did. "We'll use the RVs, some of the bigger trucks," Rick explained the same, "park them end to end. They're gonna keep moving."
"Yeah, but that many?" the man asked. "Just bouncing off some sedans? And then when they start slipping through and the ones that walk away start distracting the rest and you stop drawing them away?"
"Man's got a point," Daryl said.
"We still got plates," Reg cut in, "The big metal ones from the construction site. We can use them to fortify the whip wall. It'd help disperse the force of impact and direct the walkers clean."
"That's an army out there," Carter countered, "What happens if this doesn't hold and they push on through?" he asked, but continued before waiting an answer, "The curve in this hillside is gonna send them right back east. Right back here." He pointed Alexandria with his finger just like Rick did.
Frowning, Rick shook his head. "If we don't do this, they're still gonna end up here," he said in return. It was all the same. Here at least they had a chance. They had to try it. He gave the skeptic man a look, "It's gonna hold," he said sternly, "We're gonna make sure of it."
He was going to make sure of it. He turned to Reg, "How long would it take to close the road?"
"Give or take a week," the older man answered, "We need to dig ditches and gotta do a lot of welding."
Rick shook his head. "Too long," he said, "We might not have a week."
Reg gave him a look. "We'll try our best."
"Two days," Rick said then, and pointed at Daryl with his head, "Go and tell everyone. We start tomorrow morning."
Daryl nodded, and left. Rick then turned to Glenn. "We need to check the road, too. Twenty miles… we need to keep it quiet. If there's something on the road that might distract the herd, we're doomed."
Glenn nodded. "I'll round up a team and check the road."
Rick nodded, then they left, himself Reg, Tobin, and Carter to look for the plates. The warehouse was at the backyard of the town across the cemetery, so they walked around the town, also checking the wall for the weak points. In any case, they needed to forfeit the walls as best as they could, in case that they fucked it up. Inside the warehouse, they counted twelve plates ten feet tall stored, four inches thick, and square profiles to weld them together. Rick told them to get ready for tomorrow too, and left them as they started gathering the tools and other equipment.
He needed to find Amanda. This couldn't go on like this, that part—even with that herd out there hadn't changed yet. He needed to find her and settle this thing down. She needed to stop fighting with it. She needed to come back—return her own room, her own life, and stay there, too, dammit! She had no place outside there—not just after he'd rushed her to the infirmary bleeding a few days ago.
But before he needed to do something else, too.
He found Abraham gathering the construction crew together with other residences as he had demanded, but Daryl wasn't with him. He'd hoped Amanda was with them, too, but perhaps this way was much better. Standing a few feet away from the massive man, Rick gestured Abraham with his head. With a tight brow, the ex-sergeant walked to him. "Hey man, we're almost good to go," he said, stopping in front of him, "These monkeys gonna love this."
Rick shook his head. He had no desires of talking about that now. The townspeople were going to do this, whether they liked it or not, they needed all hands on the deck now. If they wanted to live, they were going to fight for it. "You should stop giving booze to Amanda," he told Abraham stiffly.
The smirk wiped off the redheaded man's face as he regarded Rick calmly. "She's a big girl, she can decide what she wants herself."
Rick shook his head again, "I don't want to see her with alcohol again," he only said firmly.
Abraham's eyes turned heavier, and Rick cursed the day he'd teamed up them together, sending them into the woods looking for the Wolves back on the road. She'd been again driving him crazy, refusing to knowledge the thing between again—calling it just sex—telling him constantly how much she hated him…first he'd been amused, then amusement had grown off. Still, if he knew they would've been best buddies, he would've sent her off with Daryl instead.
He wasn't jealous—not really—funny enough he trusted Amanda not to betray him that way—but he still didn't like her seeing with the guy. They both had the same devil-may-care attitude with a cold, harsh exterior they presented to the world, had the same dry savviness and it bothered him seeing them having something in common when Rick was always at cross with her.
He wondered then if it was what she felt seeing him together with Michonne, but Rick wasn't throwing fits unlike her.
Abraham shrugged, "She looked like she needed a drink."
Rick got closer to the man, "I found her passed out at the bed," Rick said in return, bobbing his head to make his point, "What would happen if we didn't see that herd by chance and they ended up here yesterday and she was out of conscious?" He shook his head, "This ends now."
Abraham gave him a look. "Have you talked this with her?"
"Yeah…"
"Okay," the ex-soldier said then, "Will—you let her drive with Daryl?" he questioned further, giving Rick another look.
"She stays," Rick answered, ignoring the look Abraham sending him, "she's not well enough."
"She's a cop, all locked and loaded."
"She's got a miscarriage," Rick returned, "We need someone back in, too."
"Well," Abraham said then, "You gotta convince her because it's just snafu!"
Rick nodded. That he was going to. "Where is she? Did you see her?"
"She went to see Aaron's bike with Daryl and Beth," Abraham answered, "They're Aaron's garage."
Nodding again, Rick left the ex-soldier with construction crew. Aaron's boyfriend, Eric, opened the door for him. He asked the man for Amanda, and Eric pointed with his head at the back—Rick assumed the garage. Outside the house, Rick walked to the garage. Inside the room was a mess, pieces of mechanics, motors and bikes were all scattered around. Daryl was knelt in front of a bike, checking the motor, as Beth, Amanda and Aaron had seated along the workbench in the middle of the spacious room, fiddling with many nuts, blots, screws, pieces of motors laying around. Over the workbench, there were tools and a big motor comportment too, and Rick thought Daryl had found himself a new Disneyland.
As if he'd heard Rick, Daryl lifted his head from the motor he was tinkering with it, and gave him almost a smirk, "Man, you gotta see this—"
Rick turned to Aaron. "Did you build this yourself?" he asked.
Aaron shook his head. "No… Eric and I were just collecting pieces—like plates. We were hoping someday we would someone who would put it back together." His eyes skipped to Daryl, "I guess we did."
Rick nodded. "Yeah…" He paused then and turned to Amanda. They both shared a silent look, but didn't acknowledge each other. Beth jumped down from the stool she perched upon, "We—we need to check other…stuff," she told them, and motioned Daryl and Aaron, "Come on."
Rick nodded at her. Daryl gave him a quick look before he followed Beth and Aaron, too. Amanda turned away from him and picked up a bolt from the workbench, and started studying it as if it was the most curious thing in the world.
She put it down as Rick rested his hip along the workbench's edge, "Stop looking at me," she said then chillingly, her eyes still trained on the bolt.
"Amanda," Rick started then, but she cut him off.
"Don't Amanda me, either," she snapped, finally lifting her eyes at him, "I'm going. You don't have a say in this."
"Don't I?" he felt anger getting at him… He was the father of her unborn child. He did a have say in this!
But she shook her head, her voice adamant as she answered, "No. It's my decision."
He leaned toward her, and waved his arm at her, "You got a miscarriage six days ago!"
"I'm fine."
"You ain't fine." Her eyes lit, she sent him a look like a dagger. Rick softened his voice, "Amanda—baby—"
She cut him off again, "Don't call me baby," she sneered, "I'm not your baby."
He let out a sigh, shaking his head. "I know you want to be out—" he started again, but once again she cut him off.
"In case that you forgot it, Rick, I'm a police officer. You need me out there."
"I need you here, too. We need someone back here if we fucked this up—and you know damn well we might—If it happens, these people will need someone to lead them."
"Carol and Rosita stay," she said in return, "They can do it."
Rick shook his head negative. "No. They're good soldiers, but they're lone wolves. They can't lead. If it's not you, then I'm gonna need to give up either Maggie or Michonne, and they didn't have a miscarriage…unlike you."
Her face soured, but she didn't comment. "You know it's reasonable, Amanda," Rick persisted.
Slowly, she nodded, Rick watched it with contentment. He always knew she could accept the reason, but then she gave him a look, and added, "On one condition."
"I'm listening," he accepted then too, he could be reasonable too, when he wanted, and they started bargaining, and that meant good.
"I'm gonna come to the dry run with you. I'm a better strategist than anyone here. We need to make contingency plans. I need to see it myself, too."
Giving her another look, he nodded. She was right there, she was a damn well strategist, and she got an eye to locate the weak points, unbury what was hidden, Rick had just seen it today… drawing the dots together, she's deduced she looked like Lori… "Okay, you come to dry on, but stay in for the real thing."
Amanda nodded in agreement. Then gave him another look. "I—I talked with Aaron today. He let me stay here. I'm not coming back to the house," she stated as Rick stared at bewildered.
"You will stay here—?" he said, astonished, waving a hand around the garage.
"We're going to put a mattress-a bed or something like that. It got a shower too—so-" she shrugged, faltering off.
Rick shook his head. "This's ridiculous. You can't stay here. It's a damn garage."
She turned her head away from him with disinterest, "Slept at worse places."
"Amanda, enough! You gotta stop this! You gotta come back, your own life—your own room—your own bed—You don't belong here, dammit!" He took a step further in her, "You belonged with me!"
Her head snapped back at her, lit with a fire. "You mean I belong to you?" she hissed back.
"I mean what I say!" he said back, "This isn't your life," he repeated what he'd told her earlier in the morning before the noon.
She snickered, "Yeah, my life belongs with you, right?" she asked, her voice dripping with a cutting mock, and she shook her head, "To be a pretty substitution for all the things you've lost!"
"For Christ's sake!" he bellowed out, lifting his head up, then his eyes returned to her again, "Are we really going to do this again?"
Her eyes narrowed, and she gave him a seething look, "You're right! Let's not," she hissed, and jumped down from her stool and started marching to the door.
Catching her at her arm, he stopped her. "Amanda, listen to me. I'm not with you because I want to replace you with Lori. Yes, you like look Lori, but it's not the reason why I said yes when you told me there was something between us. I said yes, because it was truth. Because here was something between us!"
"There was something between you and Michonne, too, but I didn't see you getting her tied up fucking her at the ass!" she snapped back, "So why? Why not her, but me?"
Rick gave her a look, and remembered what he'd thought himself too, "Michonne never pushed my buttons like you did, Amanda… never pushed our boundaries... I got…intrigued."
With his answer, her anger subsided a bit, and Rick felt—he felt like he was going at the right path. But a second later, she shook her head, "So you say it got nothing to do with how I look like your old wife but Michonne doesn't? Really?"
"I don't know, okay?" he asked back, his voice rising, he was getting tired of it—so tired of getting questioned for his feelings… "I was attracted, and I don't know why! Do you know why were you attracted to me? Do you know why you got so wet pushing my damn buttons?"
The look she gave him told Rick the answer, no, she didn't know it, either. She let out a bitter snort then, "So what, is it only pheromones between us?" Rick looked at her, but she shook her head again. "I'm not talking about basic attraction, Rick, I'm not talking about sex. It's never been just sex between us, we both knew it."
"Look, Lori and I weren't having a good marriage even before the turn. We got problems—" he started then, tried to explain, but she cut him off.
"For fuck's sake!" she cried out, "Are you going to stand there and give me that shit? What? She made you sleep at the couch…? Gave you the cold shoulder?" she snickered, then hissed, "Do I look like I care how your marriage was, Rick?"
Anger was building in him, if she wasn't interested in his fucking marriage why on the earth they were having this conversation at the first place! "I'm trying to explain!" he rasped, getting closer to her, his voice rising on his anger, "You're giving me shit I don't talk to you just like Lori used to do, but when I try, when I really try—you do anything but listen to me!"
"Just like Lori used to do?!" she yelled back his word at him, taking another step toward to him in return, "I'm just like Lori, don't I?"
Inwardly, Rick swore. "No. No, you aren't like Lori. You aren't even close! Lori was passive aggressive, she was—"
With a scream, she cut him off again, "Do you hear yourself talking?" she cried out, "Even now, instead of talking about me, all you're doing is talking about her! Lori this, Lori that… Is this how you convince me you love me, Rick?"
He took a bolt from the workbench and threw it across the room. "And I always have to convince you, right?" He shouted at her back, "Always have to prove my love! Always have to do something!" He shook his head, "It's always something, Amanda, always. You—you find out something to prove yourself that I don't love you then come back to bite my head off!" Walking on her closer, he pointed a finger, "First it was Michonne, then you threw a fit for Jessie, now you've started with Lori! What shall I do? What shall I do to prove myself to you, dammit, tell me! What would it be enough to make you believe me? Do I need stop talking to Michonne, Jessie, or any other woman who dare talk to me? Do I need to go and kill all those walkers for you all by myself? Do I need to save the world? Do I need to go fucking hunt a fallen star for you? TELL ME!" He shouted, grabbing her at the upper arms, "What I need do to get you to believe me—WHAT?!"
She threw herself out of his grip, "You don't have to prove me anything!"
"Then what the hell do you want from me!"
"I want you to love me… for—being me!"
"I love you! I love you because it's you! That thing between us, it's there since the moment you told me you'd saved some people, too, but you won't never believe it, will you?" He shook his head, "It'll never be enough for you. You'll never feel it because no one ever lo—" he stopped, realizing what almost had left his mouth, but it was too late.
He was too fucking late! Her eyes at his, she nodded at him. "Say it," she challenged. He didn't. "No, you started it. Never start something you can't finish, right?" she demanded further, throwing his words back at his face, "Finish it, Rick, say it!"
He still stayed in silence.
A scream ripping off her, she turned aside and swept off all the cluster over the workbench with her arms— "I SAID SAY IT!"
"Amanda—" he started, but she cut him off again—
"How can I know it? How can I know how it feels being loved…?" She barked out a laughter, bitter and curt, "Even my own damn mother left me at the hospital. You know—I used to wonder why—why brought a child into this world only to abandon her just the second after…it makes no sense…" She laughed out aloud again, shaking her head, holding the stool's back tightly with her fingers, "People are selfish, mothers the most."
He took a step toward her, "Amanda—baby—"
She raised her eyes at his, "If you ever call me baby again, Rick, I'll wipe the floor with your ass, god help me!"
They both stayed in silence for a moment, then she shook her head again. "You started this… you fucking started this…" Her fingers tightened at her grip, her knuckles turning to white, then suddenly twisting aside, she raised the stool above her head and hit it at the bench—"So yeah, I don't fucking know how it feels being loved—" She repeatedly hit the stool at the edge with each word, "because yes, NO ONE ever loved me before!"
She tossed the damaged stool away and walked on in him with the same furry, a guttural sneer at her lips— "I fucking hate you!"
"Baby—"
With a scream, she threw herself at him. "Amanda—!" he yelled back, turning around—and blocked her arm as she came at him, "Amanda, for Christ's sake, stop!"
Twisting her around, he trapped her arms with his, encircling her waist from her back, and tightened his grip as she trashed in his embrace. "Stop, baby, please—"
She stepped down on his foot with her boot's heel with all her strengthen and threw her head backward. It collided at his forehead with a heavy thud. Pain flashed over at his eyes. "AMANDA!"
"Let go off me!" she screamed back, and jumping in the air, she braced her feet on the bench and used the momentum to throw them back on the ground. He stumbled on his feet backwards but stopped before he tumbled down on the ground when his back hit at the wall. Then his back secured, he tightened his grip on her further.
"Stop it, now!" he hissed at her ear.
With a hiss, she tried to break off his grip. Then she suddenly stopped, leaning down over the arms that circled over her waist, grunting out— "Arghhh-!"
His heart stopping, Rick recognized the grunt. "Amanda!"
She gave out a sharp breath, her legs buckling out, "R-Rick!"
Rick caught her before she collapsed down on the ground. Leaning over her shoulder, Rick saw blood painting over her groin again—
With a curse, he picked her up in his arms.
A/N: Uh-oh, trouble never ends, right?
This chapter was very hard to write because I want to delve both Amanda and Rick's state of mind, and I hope I managed it well. Amanda's biggest issue is never truly felt being loved-it's usually the main reason for every fear of abandonment and self-confidence issue-and it was time to I get into that for Amanda, because it's the core of her character, too, as she's basically like a little girl who looks for unconditional love. I imagine Rick not having such kinds of "requirements" more suited to childhood as he was raised by loving parents, therefore could recognize it quickly, though he's got other issues, like her lack of belief in him... I want to portray him getting truly angered by it-because it was basically what had messed up his relationship with Lori after Rick had killed Shane.
Don't hesitate to tell me what you think, please-I'd really like to know it.