Dear LiasonFan2; I saw your review in my inbox, but the site again is having problems with reviews, and doesn't show them up, so I wanted to answer here :) Because I wanted to say-LOL! Rick making a healthy communication, not turning stuff to complicated would be OOC-ha ha. He got over his problems, I think, after Season 6 when he got together with Michonne, but he's still not there, so-yeah, a lot of making things a way more complicated than it should be :D Jokes aside, I had a big author note I forgot to post here but as I wrote the last chapter, I was actually aiming to make him tell Amanda about Lori (not Judith part) but what happened with Lori-Shane-and him, but the conversation felt so...contrived, as if I was *really* forcing him, I had to forsake the idea. And yes, I'm still mad at him for Lizzie, as well-but really, Rick just couldn't let the girl come with them. That wasn't him, either.
And, Daryl-hmm, I didn't think on it much but I think two or so hours passed between Daryl left and walkers showed up, so he was away in the woods, can't heard anything. And behold, we start this chapter with him as well, and I so missed writing him-the stupidest Dixon has ever lived :p Actually, that was the first thing I wrote for TWD-as it also opened Metamorphosis.
IXXX.
Finding himself a path through the woodlands in the dim moonlight, the hunter in his late thirties was on prowl. He knew the woods as well as he knew himself, each tree, each plant, each bush, what to eat, what to drink and not, what animal to approach, what animal to stay away—he knew it all too well, so as he stalked through the forage as silent as a sleek predator in the night, he knew exactly to what kind of a stupid suck ass plan had said yes.
Though, still here he was—prancing through trees, looking for any sign that would give him a cue—not only because they all had asked—but because he'd wanted to.
The hunter was a bloody sucker in that way, too.
In his mind, he heard his older brother's distinctive dry voice—the stupidest Dixon has ever lived…
Though, even that might be the case, perhaps the sheer stupidity ran through their bloodline as well, aside being assholes, Dixons were kinda suckers, as well. Even his big brother had turned to a sucker asshole at the end.
Perhaps—like the girl had said—it wouldn't hurt to keep a little bit of faith.
Faith…
Look where faith had gotten them… He made a small derisive sound, a low grumble out of his chest, careful not to spook any nightly creature—alive or dead. One always must be the most careful dealing with woods at night. The grounds, especially in this time of the year, were always tricky, roots and holes hiding a lot of traps—and one incautious misstep, and then you were done sure as fuck.
Yet, still, here he was—lurking through the trees, looking for trails—for a sign—for anything—for anyone—because in deep down, somewhere in his deep, deep chest—there was something else too—a voice—not derisive or cutting like his old man—perhaps his damn conscience—a voice telling him—he…he should've stopped this if only—if only—
He cut the thought—Dixons didn't second guess any shit. It wasn't the Dixon way. They took whatever the fuck the life decided to throw at them and sucked it down like lemonade…with a lot of alcohol. Perhaps if he hadn't stopped looking for that sonofabitch like Michonne hadn't, he would've really hindered all of this…but what had happened, had happened.
And they were here…him in the woods at night, going over one of the stupidest suckass plan ever known to mankind.
Stupidest Dixon had ever lived.
He bowed his head, making his way over the tracks—then caught it—over the muddy dirt path in dark brown covered with fallen leaves—two footprints—going away from the tracks.
Two footprints—half pressed in the muddy earth, one narrow and long—but not too deep—possibly belonging to a tall but skinny man—the other small—tiny—light—as if feet barely touched at the ground as they ran—and they had been running, the trackers had noticed—quick, half prints one on another—crisscrossed…
He turned around and checked around and saw other prints too—long—lingering—dragging… walkers.
They had been running away from walkers. He touched the prints, trying to detect how long it had been—there had been no rain since a while, the earth was moist with dew—and he knew they weren't old—not much—but still fresh.
To his right side, there were the tracks—where their people surely would go—where they had decided to check for—but the trails were still fresh.
So, standing up, the hunter stood up, and made his decision.
Grumbling, he turned to his left.
# # #
Blinking away the sunlight that was creeping inside through her eyelids, Amanda woke up from her restless sleep at dawn. She turned around from her spot beside Beth a few steps away from the tree, and slowly started straightening up, placing her palms down on the ground over the fallen leaves, her body twisting aside.
A new day, a new morning.
And…a new headache—drumming behind through her brows and eyes into her brain, her temples throbbing with it, surely a combination of lack of sleep, dehydration, hunger, and trauma and stress.
Her current lifestyle in a nutshell.
Together with the killer headache, her body was aching from trying to sleep over the hard ground, as well, and her arm felt listless, like a stone, tingling as she had lay down on it, and smells… god, smells…
She smelled awful—blood and entrails and other things, dirty, dusted clothes caked with dried blood and sweat… but at the better sight, with her current condition, there was so little room left to any thought regarding the talk they'd had last night, even though it was the first damn thing had come to her damn mind, so she tried to welcome her pounding head, her grumbling stomach, her tight throat. Though still she failed, and her eyes skipped aside and found him still sitting at the same spot where she had left him last night, still staring ahead.
Well, it'd been her who had stayed awake before the other night in the house, keeping watch, whole night, keeping an eye on him as he lay unconscious—listening to his moans so Amanda guessed it'd been his turn now to stay up for the night. Not that she had slept anything, of course. Sleep had eluded her until she had finally dozed off of a few hours before the dawn out of fatigue, but at least this time she hadn't been the only one.
That was a "I don't know. Ask the next time" Rick.
God!
Everything—everything was so difficult, and she had no idea why. Not that she was an expert or anything on the subject, but she'd always heard that relationships shouldn't be this difficult. They had to follow a natural flow—not forced, even she knew that. But they—they had a natural flow, didn't they? They…they managed to get close like it was the simplest, easiest thing in the world then something just happened, and they lost it.
It'd been so easy, so easy to kiss him last night—the way they had drawn together, reaching out to each other. They'd started kissing, and she had somehow found herself falling backwards—she hadn't even understood—it'd just happened, following the flow. In a matter of blink, she was down on the ground, and he was climbing over her. She'd wanted him—she'd wanted him so much, wanted to be under him, feel him inside, wrap her legs around him—so easy—it was so easy…then a single sound—a single crunch of a twig—then puff!
Gone.
She guessed reality again had kicked back in—the fact that they had been an inch away from fucking each other in front of two teenagers, a kid, and a baby.
God—perhaps they were really just horny.
That would've explained a lot of shit.
Yes—I still love her…
The words had hurt her—more than she'd expected—more than she'd given herself credit for. She'd known it—of course, she'd known it—but hearing it from him—no. She hadn't liked it.
She felt the headache getting worsen at the thought, and she tried to push it away—tried to tell herself it was no big deal—and goddammit, a part of her still wondered what had happened between them, why the hell their relationship had been so complicated as the other part knew she just had to stay the fuck away, not getting herself more tangled with his drama. She...she just didn't know, and she was getting seriously pissed off with his mixed signals…the night moaning his dead wife's name in his sleep, the morning walking over a gun for her… accidently causing a troubled girl to suicide all in the meanwhile!
GOD!
This was some killer headache she had!
She brought her hand over the bridge of her nose, trying to ease off the pressure there, the other still holding the ground as she sat on her side, then heard the soft baby cries.
There it had started…a new day truly beginning, in which they got a baby starting a new day possibly crying out of hunger.
The thought stopped all the other silliness in her mind. A baby crying out of hunger. Beth had said she couldn't have fed the baby before they'd had to run away, so Amanda had had to put her sleep with already empty stomach, but now it must've been even worse. They needed to get their shit back together. This—this was no time for this silliness.
Turning aside, she scooted closer the tree. Beth and Carl pulled up too, hearing Judith. Mika came out of from where she'd crawled inside the hollow half, and Amanda, sitting on her knees, took the baby out of her leaves-nest bed.
Poor thing—little poor thing…having to live through this shit. She bowed her head and brushed a light kiss over her head as a shadow fell over them, and she knew Rick had come over to, as well.
Securing the baby closer at her chest, Amanda lifted her head up, and stood up. She took a few steps away from the kids to have a bit privacy to discuss the situation, "She's hungry. She gotta eat before we do anything—" she declared.
Rick nodded, a stern expression over his face, blood drops caked over his beard, dirt over cheeks, his eyes red from lack of sleep, dehydration, fatigue and stress, likewise her, and there were also his wounds. Overall, he still wasn't in best shape, but there was nothing to do about it now.
There was another look in his eyes, too, as he watched her as Amanda stood with Judith in her arms in front of him, the baby making her soft cries, thank god, not shrill cry screams that would bring rotter upon them. The things that you started being grateful out in the woods.
Rick still looked partly surprised seeing her like this with Judith—better than yesterday, but the lingering shock was still apparent in his gaze, but he wasn't making an inquiry, so she chose to pretend as if it weren't there at all. He also didn't make an attempt to take the baby from her, so she guessed he was also okay with it.
"I'll go foraging—" he told her back, his eyes still on her. Amanda nodded in answer, hopping the baby girl to hush her down, "There gotta be some walnuts or pecans around, and berries," he continued, wandering his eyes around the woods, "We can mash them together. Carol used to do it after she turned to six months. I'll pick up some plants, too."
Good thing that Rick knew his plants. God, she really needed to learn more about wildlife and woods, how track, how to hunt, how to set up snarls, what to pick up what to stay away.
"We need water, too—" she said over Judith's cries, each wheezing sound was like a nail in her brain, "Shsss….shsss…" she muttered, looking down, her arms still hopping the baby then lifted her head up, every move of her head cutting through her brain as she forced herself not to frown, "Try to find some, 'kay?"
Rick nodded back, but his eyes turned keener, as he looked at her searchingly, "You okay?"
She let out a little smile, and the instant regretted it. She moved her eyes downward, feeling her old nervousness coming at her with his scrutiny, trying to peel her off, and she was so fucking tired for that shit… "Headache," she mumbled out, "Barely sleep in two days."
And his eyes grew even tenser, she felt it… "Didn't you sleep last night?"
She sucked in a sharp breath, anger finding her again, "Just go find us something to eat before we all faint—" she sneered, sending him a glare, her head feeling splitting in two, "We've barely eaten anything in two days, too!"
With another look at her, he nodded, "Okay."
"And take Carl," she ordered, and continued before he could say anything back, "I don't want anyone of us alone—"
He gave her another nod, bowing his head, "Yeah—" He lifted his head again, "When we come back, we talk—" Her eyebrows drew together on their own accounts hearing the word, and he stressed out, "about what we should do—" he clarified and she almost snorted out.
She guessed there wouldn't be any talk for them for a while— "I think we really should wait for Daryl instead of wandering in the woods."
Hopping the baby in her arms, Amanda sighed, "I don't know. Maybe. We'll talk about it," she agreed, "But first Judith needs to eat. Go."
He nodded again, and started turning, "Be careful," he told her, "We won't go far away. If something happens scream—"
Despite herself, she laughed, "Scream?"
He shrugged, walking away, his upper body still turned aside to her, "Yeah—you know—" Faltering, he gave off another shrug, and this time in his eyes there was a sheepish look, so unlike him, and she felt it—her stomach tightening as he turned to the other side toward Carl, "Carl—come," he called out to his boy, "We go look for food."
As the father and son walked away, Beth came to her side, giving them a look too. Feeling the tiredness deep in her bones, Amanda sat down at the ground, holding Judith who was still softly crying, and warned Mika as the girl started wandering away— "Mika—stay close. Remember, three steps."
The girl nodded, returning to her as Beth settle down beside her, "Yes, Amanda."
Mika sat down away from them—three steps, as Amanda instructed, and started playing with the fallen leaves and acorns over the ground. Amanda felt sad, so sad—almost started crying, but she had no idea why as well. Beth looked at the girl, her wide blue eyes glistening as well, "Being a child in this world—" she whispered, "So—cruel…"
Amanda didn't say anything, and Beth gave her a look, twisting her head aside, "Lizzie—what happened with her, Amanda?" then the young girl asked in another whisper.
Amanda shook her head, and told Beth the truth, "We—we happened, Beth—" she said, "Rick and I—" She gave out a little sigh— "We fucked it up, and Lizzie paid the price."
Beth stayed in silence for a while, then started looking to pick up acorns, as well. Amanda gave the girl a look, "We can smash them and eat them," she answered Amanda's unspoken inquiry, "Carol used to do it for us when we were on the road. We used it as flour."
In silence, Amanda nodded, still holding Judith, who was softly…sobbing now, tired of crying. Beth walked a few steps away, and took a cloth of her back pocket, facing her, and lay it down, her back facing Mika. She started putting the nuts she had gathered over it, and sitting down on her knees, she slowly said with a small voice so Mika couldn't hear it, "No. I don't believe that—" She lifted her eyes at Amanda, "I know you."
"Well, there's some back story, too—" Amanda accepted with the same tone, "but in essence it was what happened—"
Beth gave her another look, "Backstories are important," the girl shot back, "Without them, you can't have a good story." She picked up another acorn, "Only one-dimensional characters doing…stuff…" She smiled a little ruefully, lifting her eyes up, "I know a bit of writing."
Amanda raised an eyebrow, "Really? Stories?" she asked, holding Judith's hand as the baby started pulling her hair.
Beth shook her head, "Nope. Songs—" the young girl gave out a loud sigh, "I wanted to be songwriter and singer—" she told Amanda, "writing my stories with poems and notes."
Amanda looked at her, with the same ruefulness, feeling heartsick, knowing how they'd all lost, but said, "You still can do it, Beth. We all still need songs—"
The girl nodded, too— "I guess. My father used to make me sing in the prison… Especially in special occasions. The Parting Glass. You know the song?"
Amanda shook her head, "No. I don't think I do."
"It's an old traditional Scottish song, but we, Irish, also sing it at the end of a gathering of friends and family. The first night we found the prison, we camped outside at the lawn. Rick and others hadn't still yet cleared off the blocks—and Daddy made me sing it. We sang it together. Maggie and I." The girl looked at her, her face beaming up suddenly, as if her sorrow lifted up a bit, and she saw the Beth Greene she'd seen first when she'd come to the prison first, "I—I'm gonna teach it to you. So when we find Maggie and others again, we can sing it together." Her smile grew bigger, "the Greene girls."
The Greene girls… Reflecting her smile back, holding up Judith's hand, Amanda nodded, and forced out over a lump in her throat, her voice rough with emotions, "I'd love that, Beth."
The Greene Girls. She would really love that.
Beth nodded back, coming back beside her, and sitting down, she pulled out her knife, and started grating the hard shells of the nuts. She really would like that, if they ever came together again, but she couldn't tell it to the young girl. She didn't want to think on it, either, she wanted to keep up faith…but after everything, it was getting harder.
She wandered her eyes around, looking for any trouble, but everything seemed calm—too calm—and it made her alert— nothing stayed calm in their life long anymore—disasters always an inch away to befall on them—so she waited for rotters show up, or Gorman—or some other big bad wolf of the woods—
In any luck, they would find a hunter or lumber instead, but she wasn't big on luck in these days. "I saw you and Rick last night—" Out of blue, Beth announced in another whisper, hunched down over her job, grating the nuts with her knife over her cloth, her head still bowed, and Amanda stopped breathing for a second, all thoughts leaving her…
…and she stared…stared…stared…her hand still holding Judiths', frozen, too shock to do anything else, as heat emitted out of her every pore, burning her… "I—I wasn't trying anything—" she continued, "I couldn't sleep—you know… I was just laying down—then heard you talking to each other…"
Amanda still stared… "Then you started kissing…" She lifted her head, trailing off as her wide blue eyes found hers, "Uh…I was very careful not to make any noise…but Carl—"
As if it were even possible, heat burned her further, "Was—w-was h-he a-awake, too?" she asked, stumbling with words, but thank god for all things sacred and good, Beth shook her head.
"No. He was sleeping. He just turned in his sleep."
Amanda let out a breath in relief. "Um—um—we kissed—" she said lowly, still not knowing what else to say.
Beth gave her a pointed look, "Well—I'm not an expert on the case—yet—" she said, stressing out the last part, "but it seemed like you were about to do much more than that."
"Uh—uh—"
"Then you started talking again, then you left—quite…frustrated—I daresay."
"Uh—uh—" She made a noise again, "It…kinda happened."
"I'm glad—" Beth told her then in seriousness, turning back to her acorns, "I think Rick needs someone."
She shook her head and forced herself to collect her shit… "Beth—" she started, "Nothing's happening. It was just a kiss. We got carried away. We—um—he… Rick's mourning. Still loves his wife. And I don't think Carl would like it… And I don't even want a relationship—"
She didn't, did she? She—she didn't do relationship.
"Why?" Beth asked, lifting her head up to her again.
She shrugged, "I'm not the girlfriend material."
The young girl's eyes moved down at Judith at her lap— "Ya sure?" she asked back.
As if she was caught, Amanda bowed her head, her hand still holding Judith's little one, and shrugged again, "Carl—" she said then, moving the topic away from her— "Carl wouldn't take well Rick moving onto another woman yet."
Beth smiled at her victoriously, "So you want a relationship?"
She gaped at the girl, her mouth opening a little bit, "I—I didn't say that!" she whispered back.
"But you sounded as if you would've wanted it, if Carl was okay with it—" Beth insisted, almost innocently. Amanda didn't buy it.
She fixed the girl her best cop look, "Don't play semantics with me, Beth Green—" she said in return, "You know what I mean."
Unabashed, Beth shrugged, "Well—I guess you're right on Carl," she admitted, "He wouldn't like the notion of his dad moving on—" She paused a little, her brows knitting, "I heard Maggie had a very hard time when my father married Mom. Maggie and I—we're stepsisters."
She stared at the young girl, taken aback, "Really?"
Beth nodded, "Yes. They say Maggie made a real fuss about it at first, but since I know myself, I always heard Maggie call my mother Mom as well."
Amanda nodded, "I guess it's a part of growing up too," she muttered out, looking down at the baby, gently moving her back and forth over her lap, "accepting things we aren't happy with and learn to love them if we can."
Beth nodded back, too, "In any case, I think Carl already likes you…" she then remarked, as Amanda lifted her head up at the girl again, "He thinks you're cool and smart."
"Really?" Beth nodded— "How do you know?" Amanda inquired, noticing how her voice sounded…hopeful and…relieved, she just couldn't help it.
She almost let out another sigh as Beth answered, "He told me so…" Carl had really said that? Cool and smart? She felt…she wasn't sure exactly…content? "He also knows it was you who talked Rick into let him go to the fences before we left for Grady." The girl gave her a smile with a pointed look, "You scored a good point with that with him."
A frown pulled her brows together in, her headache getting worse, "I—I wasn't trying that." She hadn't. She'd talked with Rick because it'd been the right thing to do—likewise telling them they shouldn't have sheltered Beth that much, and she'd been right. Last night Beth had kept her back—quite well, too, given the circumstances. She hadn't talked with Rick to get into good graces of his son. She wondered if the boy would've thought like that as well—if he learned about them—as if she'd been trying to show off how a good stepmother she would've made—
She stopped. Stepmother?
God!
"I know—" Beth laughed back at her faintly, "You sent me to pick up Judith in the middle of nights because you couldn't do it yourself. God. Sometimes you're really hopeless, Mandy."
The way Beth used the nickname made her laugh silently, too, as she felt…not bothered by the usage, perhaps the first time—in fact, it felt like they were really…two sisters of talking about boys and stuff… It was nice, normal… "Oh my god—" Beth breathed out, "Did you see the way he looked at you when he saw you with Judith yesterday. He was so…shocked, I almost started laughing—" She paused, "I mean—I would've…if we weren't circled with walkers, that's it."
Amanda gave out a breath, "I know what you mean…"
Beth pointed her knife up in the air, "In any case," the girl said again, "I wanted you to know that I support you two."
She laughed again— "Um—thanks… I guess." She paused, "But there's nothing to support."
"Yet?" Beth asked again innocently, wide blue eyes staring at her, and Amanda knew Beth Greene was really becoming a very smart, sly, young woman who had a thing seeing through bullshits.
The girl went on, "See, it's a Green girls thing—" she explained, "When Maggie started the college, we—we had an episode. I—I uh caught her…with…condoms… I was a bit more…naïve then…" She smiled, her innocent peeking out again, "Caused a scene. Then Maggie and I—we promised each other afterward we'll never have a boyfriend without each other's support." She took a breath, "I supported Glenn too."
Amanda nodded, "Glenn is a very good man."
Beth gave her a look, "Rick's a very good man, too—" the girl said, "My father always used to say we need men like Rick now."
She wondered what Hershel Greene might've thought of that now, then Amanda remembered something she couldn't have before… the expression over the Greene's patriarch's face when Rick had made his stupid speech, telling them they could all change. There had been pride over the old man's face, much like the way a father were proud of his son—looking at Rick with a look saying it all… In his last minutes, Hershel Greene had been proud of Rick.
My father would've understood—she then recalled Beth's words, too…
"I don't understand him—" she whispered and confessed, "Sometimes he—he doesn't make sense." And it wasn't even his feelings for his late wife, either, but the things he did. First, he'd sent Lizzie upstairs, not letting the girl seeing them while they cleansed his wounds with boiled wine, he'd been that kind and thoughtful, then the next morning, he'd been prepared to leave the girl behind to a cruel fate.
She knew he had his reasons—one of them was just sitting over her laps, playing with her hair, too, but…but the contrast between two men was so mind blowing, Amanda felt…lost between them. What would you do with a man like that? A man who walked over a gun for you one moment, then the next telling you he was still in love with another…? Stay the fuck away?
She let out a sigh. "He—uh showed me he had…intentions to figure out whatever this thing between us after we find a place to hole up again," she told the girl truthfully, "but he also accepted he's still in love with his wife."
Beth looked at her, and said simply, "His dead wife."
She shook her head, "It doesn't matter. He still loves her."
Beth shook her head back at her, "You can't stop loving someone just because they're dead. I—I can't stop loving my father or mother because they died, Amanda—"
"It's different—" she said back, but Beth cut her off.
"No, it's the same," the young girl said in return, "It's death, and love. I don't think my father stopped loving Maggie's mother after her death, either. No. He still loved her, but he loved my mother, as well." The girl paused, "It—it shouldn't be a competition," she remarked, "Josephine, Maggie's mother, was dead, but my father was still alive, so he lived. Loved another."
She swallowed, "I—I'm not sure if I can deal with it, Beth," she confessed then, too, because she really wasn't sure, "I—I didn't like it—hearing it. I didn't like it."
"Of course, you didn't—" Beth said, "But remember what you said—a part of growing up was accepting stuff you're not happy with."
At that, Amanda laughed, "Beth Greene, are you—are you calling me…childish?"
"Well—it's any consolation, I wouldn't like it myself, either, I think…" she said back with a little laugh, "It's…easier to talk about this stuff when it's not about you, huh?" Her expression turned serious after that, almost thoughtful, "But I think Lori and Rick's relationship was much more…complicated than my father and Maggie's mother's." the girl stated, and continued, "They—"
Complicated… Rising her hand, Amanda stopped the girl. "Beth, stop," she said, shaking her head, "I—I don't want to know. I can't deal with this now."
She just couldn't. Things were already complicated for her as it was. She didn't want to learn how…complicated it had been for Rick and his dead wife. It was too much for her, a way too much. She—she didn't do dramas, she didn't do relationships, either.
And she fucking hated when things got complicated!
Beth nodded, giving her a look. "I'm sorry—" the girl said, "I—I didn't want to upset you."
She shook her head, "I know. You didn't. It's just too much now—" She said with a sigh, "We got other problems." She looked down at the baby… they didn't have time for this...
In silence, Beth nodded again.
God!
She really wanted her old life back. When everything had been just plain and simple, the times when emotions didn't convolute, when people didn't confuse, when she was protected behind her rules, routines, and labels. When she had her uniform, protocols, and procedures.
Now… look at her—covered with guts of rotters, her hair—her loose hair all caked with dirt and blood, a headache pounding in her head, barely sleeping in two days—smelling awful, feeling awful, aching awful—her stomach grumbling—her throat so tight scratching—her tongue felt like a dry paper…
…A part of her wanting a man like she'd never felt before, the other part wanting to run away from him as fast as possible, all the while sitting on a tree root lost in the woods with his baby girl in her arms…waiting for him to return so she could feed his starving baby.
Speaking of which… where the hell was he?
Judith really needed to eat something. Like now.
She started standing up—just because she had to do something—hopping the semi-asleep the baby girl in her arms, and started making rounds… She lifted her head up and tried to check the sun's location—it was still early in the morning, so she couldn't be sure of the exact timeline, but they'd been talking with Beth quite a lot—a lot of nuts had been grated in front of the girl now—and Rick and Carl were still nowhere.
A familiar dread caught at her again, a twinge squeezing in her chest— "Beth—how long do you think passed since they left?" she asked, twisting aside to the girl.
Beth gave her a look, "Around an hour, I guess. Less, but not more."
She nodded, "Something's wrong—" She felt it—deep inside her—a tingle of something—or just an instinct—an instinct she'd developed over the years—something that made the hair on your back standing—and she wasn't liking it.
She drew her gun out, "Beth, up. Take out your gun. On my back," she ordered, as Beth leaped up, not making her repeat the order, and took the position as Amanda turned to Mika, "Mika—get behind us."
Then it happened—it just fucking happened—and she knew it—she fucking knew it!
Out of the trees, Rick and Carl walked out—their hands behind their necks—guns pointing at their heads—then she saw the others, too.
She'd told him! She'd fucking told him too!
Tightening her grip over Judith with one arm, she raised the other one with the gun—rage, anger, fear, and dread running all over her like a giant wave, "Let them go—" she spat with venom, her gun trained at his head, "Let them go NOW!"
Ahead of her, her former colleague Sergeant John Gorman aka the sonofabitch she'd swore to rip off his dick and make him choke on it walked front of them, giving her a curious look, his eyes wandering all over her—head to toe… "Man, fuck!" the piece of shit exclaimed, "You look like shit!"
# # #
Three men standing their behind, the other sonofabitch walking ahead toward Amanda—and Rick felt tensed like a strained bow—seeing her—almost shaking, holding the gun at the bastard, Judith still in his arms.
Fuck it!
She'd told him—she'd fucking told him—and he—he'd gotten caught like a fly into a fucking trap—and they—they all were going to pay for his yet another mistake.
"Look at you—" the man sneered again with a sinister look, getting closer as if Amanda wasn't holding a gun pointed at him, as he knew damn well she couldn't take any shot while they were standing here, with guns pointed at them.
Three men—three cops… pointed their guns at him and his son.
Carl.
He closed his eyes for a second, as Amanda kept glaring at the man—as if she kept doing it, she would've killed the bastard with her eyes… "Lower your gun—" then the bastard ordered at her, "I want to talk."
She didn't. "C'mon, Mandy—" he taunted her, "We both know you won't shoot—" he said with a sigh, "You did your dramatics. Lower the gun now, so we can talk."
"Talk?" she snapped back, "What do we have to talk?"
The bastard's answer didn't miss a beat, "Business—" he shot back, "I'm not here to kill you, Shepherd," he then declared, giving her a look before he concluded, "I'm here because I want you back."
Ha ha, so, bet you didn't see it coming, huh?
So-I was thinking how a confrontation between Gorman and Amanda would go like-spinning ideas, as I felt Amanda still needed a closure for that aspect, as she's still obsessed with him-and I thought on it-then suddenly realized that it didn't have to be *guns blazing* The thing with Grady-all of them were kinda dragging their feet for an open confrontation-even Gorman, letting Dawn rule as long as she kept him happy. Things got worse when Amanda brought Rick and Co., but after she left-I imagine them getting even worse under Gorman's rule-and a leader always have to satisfy his people in the long run-so I thought-perhaps Gorman would just want her *back*-you know-I tried to kill you, you tried to kill me, but it was nothing personal, it was-*business*. And, you really look like shit, so let's forget all about this, and you come back, and we deal with our stuff like we always do. I thought it more likely then him coming after her just to kill her out of revenge. All in frankness, Amanda doesn't matter to Gorman a shit. But as a cop, as a smart, capable cop she *does*. So this happened, and I think it also would give Amanda a real struggle, because she's started feeling the real toll of being on the road-and everything else with Rick-and here her chance-just forget everything else, and be *herself* again.
I LOVED-LOVED writing this chapter the talk between Beth and Amanda-I so missed them having girl talk about boys like in Adaptation, and Beth is being there for her again, telling her about Maggie and her mother, and the Parting Glass! Now-I just need to get them together somewhere in the future, make them sing that song! the Greene girls!
This chapter is really-different for me, I'm also very curious about your opinions, so, please, let me know!
Sorry about the long author notes, as well. I'm a bit more chatty today than usual :D Gorman got me. He he.