November 12, 2010
After a tasty and hearty breakfast on the farm, Rick's topping off their water supplies so they can get back on the road when the blond teenage boy shouts frantically about fire. Long honed instincts send him running, boots pounding toward the shouting. The big barn set back from the main farmyard is ablaze, flames already putting off enough heat to make approaching dangerous.
"Are there animals inside?" Rick shouts, horrified as he sees the chained and padlocked door. It sounds like there's movement inside, but the fire consuming the old structure makes it hard to know for sure. Animals would be screaming, though, wouldn't they?
Maggie and the teenage boy are struggling to spray the space around the barn with garden hoses. They're making progress in soaking the dry grass, but the farm girl leaves the boy to the work to shout at Otis. "Get the tractor, Otis! Dig a fire break behind the barn."
Morgan and the others have arrived, looking on in horror as part of the barn creaks, shifts, and collapses inward. It sends sparks into the dry grass, where a fire sputters into being. Rick's friend reacts faster than the farm hand, because he dashes for the tractor, which has a box blade attached.
The grass fire is snuffed out between the tractor tires and the box blade, and Morgan circles to drag the blade again and again, scraping away all the dying grass with each pass. Jimmy and Maggie continue to wet down the exposed soil, even as the rest of the farm residents seem frozen in horror. Hershel's weeping softly on his knees, just staring at the barn, and Patricia is literally holding Beth back as she screams and cries. Otis appears to be stalled between helping his wife and helping with the fire.
Rick spies a pile of tin, the sort used for repairing the roofs of farm structures and goes to start dragging sheets of the metal to lay between the barn and the other farm buildings. There isn't as much grass on this side of the barn, but there's enough. He hears a grunt behind him and sees Alex and Jenny move into action, too, dragging their own sheets.
It takes two hours for the barn to burn down enough to not be a risk to the rest of the farm. They'd stopped fighting against it after an hour or so, with Alex going to sedate Beth when she couldn't stop those raspy screams every time another part of the ancient barn collapsed. The girl's upstairs under Patricia's watchful eye, lost to the world for long enough to figure out what the hell is going on.
Hershel disappeared, leaving Maggie, Otis, and Jimmy to help watch the fire. After Rick finishes the water that Alex pushes on him, he studies the farm trio closely. Something about the fire seems odd, especially the intense grieving that Beth and Hershel were hit with.
Clues slide into place. When Rick ran up, there was already a ring of water saturated ground around the barn. Either Jimmy didn't call for help until it was stupidly late, or he and Maggie wet down the soil and grass before the fire started. Why the hell would they burn down their own barn?
"You okay?" he asks Alex. Her dark hair has escaped its neat braid, sending sweat slick curls around her face. She empties her water bottle and shrugs, looking worried enough that he draws her in for a hug.
"You know something really weird is going on here, right?" Alex says, returning the embrace. "The girl kept calling for her mama."
A sense of horror snakes along Rick's spine. Surely there were no people in the barn? It's possible they didn't meet everyone last night, although suspicious. But if Beth's mama was inside the barn, why did no one try to access it?
Alex steps away, letting Rick advance on the still smouldering barn. Half-burned timbers lie scattered haphazardly, broken and charred. The sooty remains of old metal farm equipment lay among the wood and coals. Despite the heat, he sees bones among the debris.
"What the hell is going on here?" he roars. Maggie flinches, Otis backs up several steps, and Jimmy bursts into tears.
"The barn was full of walkers." Maggie sounds lost and years younger than she appears. "Daddy…" she swallows hard. "He thought they were just sick, that there would be a cure. But he never went to look...to see how they were rotting away."
Otis actually reaches out and places a comforting hand on her shoulder. His expression shifts from wary of Rick to something more protective as Maggie starts crying. It's not loud and heartbroken like Beth's grief, but somehow, the quiet weeping is worse. Otis sighs before he speaks.
"Hershel's wife and son were in there. He wanted a cure more than he wanted to know what was really happening to them. Didn't see what we saw, me and Maggie and my wife. Parts missing, wasting away no matter how many chickens Patricia fed them."
"A cure would have been cruel, if it ever existed," Alex says, sounding horrified. Her hand curls around his bicep, and some of his ire drains away.
"Yeah." Maggie makes a hiccuping sound, even as Otis passes her a handkerchief. "I didn't expect the barn to burn like that. Not that hot and fast. Jimmy and I wet it down before I set the fire. It had to be fire. I couldn't shoot Shawn or the woman who raised me."
"Barn's old, Maggie," Otis says soothingly. "Been painted, lots of flammables stored over the years. Wish you'd come to me."
"Would you really have helped? Gone against Daddy? Shot Patricia's only blood family other than Beth?"
The farm hand puts an arm around Maggie, and the girl allows it, leaning into his bulk. "To spare you doing it? Yes. It seemed safe enough, them having hope. Bringing back neighbors, putting down the strangers."
Maggie blinks up at Otis. "You didn't believe in a cure either."
"Like the lady said, a cure would have been cruel by now. Maybe months ago, it was something to hope for, but not now." The big man squares his shoulders. "My apologies for not assisting as I should. We probably owe your people the farm."
"People freeze in a crisis," Alex says, fingers biting into Rick's arm as if she knows he was about to say something rude. "But I don't think we should leave today. Beth's in need of medical observation. I'm guessing she hasn't grieved for her mother."
Maggie and Otis exchange a long look. The girl answers. "If you're willing to stay a few days, we'd appreciate it. Make sure you've got some better supplies."
Rick glances over to where Morgan is standing with Jenny and Duane. The adult Joneses nod in agreement. "We'll stay as long as we're needed. There's no deadline in us reaching the coast."
They look reassured at his words, and Otis lets Maggie go to approach Jimmy. "C'mon, Jimmy. Let's get you a shower and clean clothes. It'll seem less overwhelming then." He leads the boy away.
"Showers sound fantastic," Maggie mutters, pushing her sweat damp hair away from her face. "Hot water won't hold out for more than two, though before it has to reheat."
"RV has a tankless water heater," Rick tells her. "If we can hook up to the water directly, that'll sort us out."
Maggie nods, motioning to the hoses. "There's a spigot around front, too, but we took the hose. You'll need to move the RV closer." With them settled, she heads into the house.
Alex sighs. "Time to get it sorted."
"You and Jenny go first. Morgan and I will keep an eye on things here." The odds that the fire will spread now are low, but why risk it?
By the time he does go for a shower, he and Morgan have soaked the embers a few more times. Otis comes back out to hold vigil, and it sets the pattern for the next two days. The men keep an eye on the smouldering mess, and the women look after Beth. Hershel disappeared into his room and did not reappear. The only reason no one's forced contact is that the man does seem to be eating the meals Patricia leaves outside his door.
By the third day, Rick, Morgan, and Otis are able to salvage what bones they can from the remains of the barn. Hershel doesn't attend the funeral, but Beth wobbles out, fragile and pale. Alex has her taking some sort of antidepressant, so she seems to be coping at last. Jenny takes the girl aside later, starting some project for beautifying the little cemetery.
Alex takes a deep breath. "We need more supplies, if we're staying."
She's right, and none of them feel comfortable leaving the farm less protected. As they've discussed, there's no deadline they have to meet. "We can do a run. Take your Jeep."
That gets him a smile, and it doesn't take long to prepare for the trip. They passed through a mostly untouched town on the way here, with few walkers visible. It should have plenty of supplies, and they've learned they work together well over the past few months.
Bringing back a Jeep full means they return the next few days, clearing businesses first. The fourth day, they start gleaning through houses, since the town's just far enough out that the Greenes probably won't know as many people here.
"These little cookie cutter subdivisions always give me flashbacks to base housing," Alex comments as she empties her pack into a box in the back of the Jeep.
Rick chuckles. "It does look stamped out on a production line, doesn't it?" His pack is empty already, so he's just scanning the neighborhood. They put down four roamers when they entered the cul-de-sac, but nothing else seems to be moving.
"I never understood buying places like this. Apartments are one thing. You expect those to be similar. But houses? Those need some character to them, to commit to a mortgage that lasts like half your life."
Rick laughs, glancing sideways at her. "So nothing plain jane if we can settle on the island?"
It takes her a minute to reply, but then she nods. "Nothing cookie cutter."
Shouldering her pack, she leads him to the next house. Clearing it goes like clockwork until a damned raccoon startles Alex by bursting out of a half closed pantry. She stumbles over a kitchen chair, and the screen door is no support at all, ripping as Alex goes through it to tumble onto the back deck.
Rick's heart nearly stops when he hears snarling start up, and Alex's strangled cry. Leaping over the fallen chair, he slams through the damaged door. Alex is pinned under the biggest fucking walker he's ever seen, fighting with all her strength to keep the thing's teeth off her throat.
Blood and brain matter spray all over Alex when Rick shoves his Python to the side of its rotten head and fires. She's sobbing when he rolls it off her, letting him haul her into his arms and tug her back in the house. He slams the door, throwing the deadbolt home.
He knows he should get her back to the farm, but she's covered in fetid walker blood and gore. As hard as she's shaking, he can't imagine taking her outside, not yet. Instead, he carries her to the bathroom. Standing her gently in the bathtub, he starts examining her.
The clear, bloody print of human teeth on the forearm of the little powder blue jacket she wore because the day was chilly makes his blood run cold. "Oh God, no."
Getting the jacket off isn't enough, because she's got a long sleeved flannel shirt under the jacket. It takes everything he has in him to unbutton the cuffs and tug the shirt off. She's almost pliant as he does it, no longer crying.
Rick sobs himself when the green plaid peels away to reveal bruised, but unbroken skin. "He didn't make it through your jacket. Alex, you're not bit. Look, baby, it's okay." Rick runs his fingers along her forearm until she finally looks.
Alex blinks weakly and begins to strip away the rest of her clothing, and he guesses he understands. The walker had been rotten enough that her struggle against it meant she's covered in bits and pieces of the bastard that nearly killed her. Rick helps, getting her free of her boots. The water from the tap is cold, but he finds a washcloth and sponges everything off her skin.
It seems almost too intimate, no matter how much they've shared, until he remembers just how many times she cared for him in similar ways during his coma. Wrapping her in a bath towel, he picks her up again, carrying her into one of the bedrooms. Neither of them are up to getting in the car, not yet.
Alex is chilled, shivering against him before he lays her down. Rick kicks off his boots and sheds his jacket and overshirt, climbing under the bedcovers with her. She clutches at his shirt, and he wraps himself around her. "I've got you. You're safe."
By the time she stops shivering, he's still remembering the terrifying feeling that gripped him seeing her on the deck. That bite mark on her jacket? Jesus, he came so close to losing her. His hand shakes as he smoothes her damp hair, still wet from his clumsy washing.
"Alex?" he asks softly.
She tilts her head up to look at him, hazel eyes dark in the dimly lit bedroom. "I'm okay."
"I'm glad." Settling his hand along her jaw, he idly strokes his thumb along her skin. He can tell when the gesture registers beyond any of the usual platonic affection they share. Her breath catches, and she bites her bottom lip. "Alex."
It's barely above a whisper, but it seems to make her decision for her, because she's kissing him, and the only real thought he manages is that they should have done it sooner. She's smiling when they finally part, and he's the one that begins the next kiss. Kissing her is something he never wants to stop doing.
Although he's careful to keep his hands to her shoulders and back, remembering that night she finally told him what happened to her the day he woke from his coma, Alex is not so hesitant. Their kisses lead to him being settled to his back, and Alex sliding atop him to smile down at him. She's hitched his white undershirt up, fingers warm against his belly.
This probably isn't the best state of mind for them to make such a significant change, but all he knows is that nothing has felt this right in his life in a very long time. Alex keeps hitching his shirt higher, exploring the contours of his chest. He helps her get the shirt off, resting his hands on her hips as she leans in to kiss him again.
One of her hands disappears for a moment, and he finds out why when she sits back up. Her bra slides free, and she drops it over the side of the bed to join his shirt.
"Alex? Are you sure?"
She smiles down at him. "More than anything."
Rolling her back onto the bed allows him to strip away their remaining clothing, but he takes his time. It comes to him how long he's wanted this, settled in the back of his mind, because there's no urgency other than a desperate need to make it last. Even as she slides a leg over his, he waits and teases until he's beyond sure she is ready for him.
Then they're joined, and it's perfect, and she's alive for him to move with her. His name is on her lips as her body bucks beneath him, pleasure evident in the husky repetition of his name. He's only moments behind her, legs cramping and vision white with the impact of his climax.
Alex peppers small kisses on his face even as he tries to get his weight off her. Once they're lying side by side, he joins in the kisses. "Good?" he asks softly against her lips.
"Perfect." Rick can't see her expression as well as he'd like, but the happiness is clear enough in her smile and how she molds herself close to him.
He holds her for a while, enjoying how she feels against him. "We should probably be getting back. Morgan will send out a search party."
Alex huffs out a breath against his skin. "Imagine him finding us like this. Whatever would he say?"
"About damn time, I suspect."
Alex laughs, because both Joneses seem to find their contentment in each other's company without sex amusing. "You might be right." She sits up and shivers. "I need some clean clothes."
That's a problem Rick can solve for her, so he crosses to the closet. If she happens to make a teasing, naughty comment about his naked backside, at least it distracts her from the memories of her close call sneaking back up on her. Alex is safe today, and he'll make it his purpose to keep her that way.
A/N: They'll delve more into the interpersonal issues with the Greene family dysfunction in Alex's chapter...