When Amanda opened her eyes again, Rick's hands were still at the same places. She drowsily blinked at the sunlight that seeped from the window from their left side, suppressing a yawn, bringing up her hand on his to cover her mouth. The hand inside her open zipper had inched down further during sleep that made Rick almost cup between her legs fully.
His hand over her breast was motionless while he slept, breathing with deep, steady breaths. Amanda lowered her hand, stopping her wriggling, her body aching. Their legs and feet were tangled together even worse as Rick had half draped over her in their sleep while still lying on his side. Despite the weight, their tangled state was oddly…satisfying. She wondered how much time had passed. It was around noon when they'd returned from Deanna, perhaps a bit later, but since she still saw daylight, Amanda surmised a few hours had passed.
Well, she'd hoped they could at least sleep until nightfall, but it was better than nothing. Feeling her waking up, Rick started stirring. Removing his hand in her pants up away over her stomach, Amanda rolled in his embrace to face him. Her muscles still ached, but suppressing a wince, she smiled at him instead as Rick opened his eyes.
"Hey—" he smiled back at her, his voice hoarse from sleep.
"Hey." Amanda murmured as he realized where his hands were and started slowly stroking her again. She smiled further and inched closer to him. "Feel better?" she asked.
He tilted his head down and found her lips. "Definitely better—" he muttered lowly before he kissed her. His hands sliding over her circled around her waist and dragged her up on top of him as he turned himself onto his back.
Amanda lay on his chest as they slowly kissed, her body aching more with the sudden, swift move.
But it was just muscle pain, not like that pain in the woods at the end of each of her nerves, just the sore muscles that had stayed long inactive in stillness. Drowsily, as they kissed lazily, Amanda wondered really how long they slept. Her body…her body felt like she'd slept more than a few hours—
When their kiss became heated, her muscles started protesting worse. Rick's hand moved to the nape of her neck, deepening the kiss. She pulled an inch away from him, her face strained, and let out a moan, rolling her shoulders. "God—how long have we been sleeping?"
Moving under her, Rick shrugged and winced. "I dunno. My muscles are all stiff, too." He moved his arm up across her waist. Amanda eyed his wrist. "It stopped—" he slowly remarked, then winced a bit further. "Don't feel my arm properly."
"Yeah—" Amanda raised her hand and rubbed her neck as she bowed her head. "Your hands rather liked where they were."
"They found good places—" Amanda felt his hand joining hers on her neck as he murmured, starting massaging her sore muscles.
She moaned lowly, her eyes closing. Under her, the hardness poking against her groin became more evident even though Rick ignored it. Amanda waited for him to make a move, but he was still lying under her, not…moving. He was keeping his promise. A part of her almost wanted him not to, wanted him to flip them and started to have his wicked way with her again. The other part just wanted them to stay like this forever.
Her moans grew a bit louder as his fingers found a kinked muscle and pressed on it. "Ah—"
"Good?" Rick asked roughly.
She bobbed her head absentmindedly. "Yeah…" His hands… She wanted his hands back where they had been. His fingers made circular movements over the nape of her neck as her breath hitched and her soft moans became soft groans.
Perhaps she'd been wrong. Perhaps Rick was making a move. She raised her head as he dipped his chin… In his eyes there was that playful glint with mirth.
Their lips got closer but before they found each other a soft knock on the door interrupted them. "Rick—" Amanda heard Daryl's distinctive rough drawl. "You up?"
Their heads whipping sideways at the sound, they both scowled at the same time. Amanda wondered what happened again, because the only possibility that Daryl would come to look for them must be another disaster, which was, admittedly, a common occurrence. But the man's drawl was subdued. And there were no panicked screams of Rick's name in the air that usually followed such an occasion.
No. There was no danger. Daryl wouldn't have been this calm if something really happened. And that meant—holy shit!
She rolled herself over, off Rick to the floor, dropping in a crouch, and got to her feet quickly. Her strained, sore muscles protested again, but Amanda ignored the pain and jogged towards the window. She tossed aside the drapes and checked the sun's position.
"Oh—" Oh, fuck, Amanda thought inwardly, as behind her, she heard Rick getting up from the couch. He came to her side a few seconds later and looked outside, too. His neck craned up and found the sun.
"W—we slept all day?" he asked with astonishment, disbelief tinting his tone. Amanda shared the sentiment once more.
She couldn't fucking believe it. They—they'd slept a whole day!
When they all were huddled in the living room, she'd slept with Rick a whole day and night in this room! Her mind started turning. Beth, Judith—Carl—
Carl!
Oh, Carl. Her breath started hitching as a tremor passed over her, her eyes still staring ahead. She'd just showed him something—taught him how to change Judith's diaper. This was going to square them again back to the beginning. "Hey—" Catching her upper arms, Rick turned her towards himself as if he'd read her mind. "Amanda—we just slept."
She swallowed. A whole day. "Carl. I just showed him how to change Judith's diaper—" she murmured.
Rick gave her a suspicious look. "Yeah…?"
She shrugged his hands off her. "And this happened!" she bit off. "You saw how he was in the morning yesterday when he saw us together."
Rick looked like he was suppressing a sigh. "He didn't see us together this time," he pointed out and repeated. "He needs to accept it." He paused, slanting her another look. "You need to accept it."
Not liking where the talk was turning, Amanda buttoned up her pants, tucked her shirt back in properly, and went to open the door. "Hey—" Daryl greeted them as Rick stood behind her at the threshold.
Daryl eyed them quickly, but didn't make any comment. Amanda felt grateful it was him, no one else, and that they at least didn't have the morning sex look. Though with their tousled hair, wrinkled clothes, and bare feet, they had all the other necessary bits.
"Aiden Monroe came—" Daryl stated without ceremony after that, and behind her, Amanda felt Rick going rigid. "Deanna wants his team to pull down those signs you mentioned yesterday."
Amanda arched an eyebrow, surprised. She twisted aside to Rick and saw him wearing the same expression as well. Well, that was unexpected. Beneath the surprise, Rick also looked…pleased. He nodded. "Good. They're listening." He bent down and picked up his duty belt that Amanda had left beside the door yesterday. He started buckling it on himself, but Daryl shook his head.
"Nah, man, not you—" His hands stopping, Rick lifted his head and stared at Daryl. "Monroe—uh—he wants Amanda," the tracker drawled out roughly, pointing with his head at her.
"What?" Rick all but hissed.
"He said he wants her to accompany them out."
Amanda wanted to mimic Rick's question, but before she could do anything, Rick let out an angry hiss. He buckled his duty belt forcefully and stepped out in the corridor.
Her expression stiffening, Amanda stepped out of the room, too.
What the fuck was that?
She followed Rick as Daryl followed her. She understood his…rattled jealousy, but Aiden had asked for her.
They walked in the living room almost at the same time as Aiden directly spoke to her. Well, at least finally someone remembered her.
"Morning—" the older of the Monroe brothers tipped his head with the word. "We're going to take those signs down," he explained like he'd done to Daryl. "You said you can help when you're available." His lips twitched a bit. "Are you?"
She nodded. "Yeah—" she started, but Rick cut her off.
"No. She stays. I'll come with you," he rasped, and pointed a hand at himself, turning aside to walk again. "I need my gun back. We'll go to the armory first."
Standing where he was, unmoving, Aiden shook his head. "No. Mother wants you to stay inside the walls. In fact, she awaits you at the house."
Rick stopped in his retreat. He gave Aiden a long, measuring look, hard, stern eyes fixated at the younger man. His jaw moved as he scowled further as Aiden just stood unflinching under his scrutiny. Rick gave a curt nod a second later. "Fine. I'll go and talk to her." He tossed a look at her before he warned. "No one goes anywhere until I come back."
Aiden shrugged indifferently and started moving. "Be at the main gate in an hour if you want to come," he shot at Amanda while walking out of the living room.
When he left the house, they all stood silently. Everyone was looking at them now, but not because they'd slept together a whole day inside the den how she'd dreaded a few minutes ago. The pinched expression over Rick's face must mirror her own because Amanda felt as pissed-off as Rick looked like.
How could he dare to treat her like this!
She almost told him to go fuck himself, but remembering their audience, she settled with marching out towards the kitchen. Behind her, she heard the sturdy clicks of boot heels as Rick did the same.
A few seconds later, the outside door opened and closed with a loud, angry thud. Amanda didn't turn back.
# # #
Anger was boiling in him.
All the relaxation, all the calmness he felt upon waking up was gone in a matter of blink. Why did everything have to be like this? Why she couldn't just sit down and stay in the house. If something had to be done, Rick could do it—
He knew he didn't make sense. He knew. It didn't work like that, their lives didn't work like that anymore, and it was a point that had been proved to them many times. Moreover, Amanda wasn't like Lori. She'd already told him that, too, but the idea of her being outside without him after they just made it inside walls? No. It was making all of his nerves stand up, strained like a drawn bow.
He wondered if Deanna was playing mind games with him. The woman knew they were together. Even though Rick hadn't told her anything, Amanda had. Yet, before anyone else, even before Daryl, Abraham, even himself, she became the first one to be asked to go outside.
Like hell Rick would let that happen!
Deanna was measuring him, testing him for his reaction. Even testing perhaps to see the boundaries of their relationship. Rick was sure Amanda's admission was as vague as possible. Curse him to hell if Rick let her toy with Amanda like this. She was his to protect, his job—his duty… Rick would never let them treat the woman he loved like a pawn in a power play.
Arriving at the white house, Rick rang the bell.
Deanna's husband opened the door. "Good morning, Deputy—" the old man greeted him. "Deanna was waiting for you."
Yeah, Rick bet she was.
Rick gave the man a curt nod and walked in. Deanna was seated at the dining table going over her plans. She was wearing elegant horn rimmed glasses as she studied them. Noticing his arrival, she pulled the glasses down and let them hang over her chest on their chain around her neck. "Hello, Rick. I was looking at the plans—" she started. "About the lawns and flower beds—"
Rick cut her off. "Amanda's going nowhere. I'll go with Aiden."
Eyeing him carefully, the old woman stayed silent for a while, twisting in her seat fully to face him. Then she shook her head. "No. You can't go out."
Rick arched an eyebrow. "You wanted us to take down signs, and I agreed," she remarked. "I gave an order to Aiden, he rounded up a team, and they're going to proceed," she went on as Rick's expression closed off completely. "You don't have any place in that."
His squared jaw throbbed. "I need to be out there—"
"Not every time, not for every single thing—" Deanna retorted. "I wanted you, Rick, because I wanted a right-hand to rule with me. Leaders cannot do legwork." He drew in a sharp breath as the word slipped inside him. Legwork.
She wanted the woman he loved to endanger her life for them, and she called it legwork.
"Y-you send the woman I…care about out there—" Rick pointed outside as he spat with venom, "and you call it legwork?"
Deanna faced his anger serenely. "I send my son out there, and I call it legwork," she reminded him, her voice still serene and calm, but also carrying a different kind of heat, a different kind of power.
"Have you ever seen a general running around to do chores?" she asked, and her expression shifting again, she gave him that smile. "No. They stand behind the lines, lead their people. They stand beside them only when it's necessary to stand at the front. Give them strength, give them hope. Those times might come, but this isn't one of them now."
The woman smiled at him again. "Besides, there's so many things to do. Your list—" she said. "I was expecting you make reconnaissance with your team, inspect the grounds outside, make your rounds, start the shifts—"
Rick knew when he was being settled down. He gave the woman a hard look. "Yes. I was planning on that—" Knowing the grounds, finding escape routes, safe houses, and making caches were going to be his first tasks, but he wasn't planning to go on short a team member. "I need a team with me," he stated, changing his game tactic. "I can't do all the legwork by myself." He smirked. "I need Amanda, too."
Deanna gave him another gentle smile. "You all already work together. We need to start mixing up the teams to get over the foreignness."
His smirk vanished as his lips thinned. "Fine. Aiden takes Daryl or Abraham—"
Deanna cut him off. "Aiden wanted Amanda." His jaw squared so hard, it hurt. "They already had a good rapport when she came yesterday for her interview. Shared tea together—" As his eyes narrowed, Rick really wondered if the woman was playing with Amanda, to really test for his reaction.
For a second or so, Rick didn't want to disappoint her. He almost told the old woman her son had flirted with his girlfriend, offered her something harder, but stopped the words before they left his mouth. Instead, he scowled harder, felt his jaw almost break.
"Aiden isn't a good team player, I'm afraid," Deanna continued with a sigh when he didn't react further. "I can't put Sergeant Ford and him on the same team. Not yet. And as for Daryl—" the woman explained. "I haven't figured him out yet, either." She let out another sigh, shaking her head. "I have to think of my own people too. It's as hard for them as it is for you. Amanda and Aiden seem like they're getting along."
Glaring at her again, Rick stayed silent. "Rick—" Deanna Monroe went on, "I know you…care about her in a different way," the woman then stated as he glared even harder. "But she's also a capable police officer. She can stay in and train people, but I'll also need her going outside." She paused, and her eyes found his before she asked openly. "It's not going to be a problem for you, is it?
As he looked back at the woman, Rick realized he didn't have a direct, simple answer for that question. So he lied. "No. It won't."
# # #
After Rick left, Amanda started packing. There was little she could, so after she'd packed food and water from the supplies, she went to the armory. A curvy brunette woman, who introduced herself as Olivia, was already expecting her arrival. The woman handed her gun back to her without a fuss. Tucking it in her holster, feeling the relaxing familiar weight on her upper thigh, Amanda trotted back to the house.
Outside, Beatrice Reese was jogging on the track, but she kept her eyes ahead. This was her job. She had to earn her keep, like she had since her childhood. She was asked, so she was going. What else would she do anyways? Jog in the morning, take a shower, prepare breakfast…
Pancakes…cinnamon, oatmeal, Judith, they all came to her at once, but Amanda forced the thoughts away. She prowled, scavenged, and killed rotters—that was what she did. What Amanda Shepherd always had been. The go-to officer you asked when you wanted things to get done. She let out a silent snicker, recalling once more how even Gorman had wanted her back in the end. Amanda was just business. Like always.
The first one who got sent outside.
She wasn't bitter. No. It was just what she was.
Amanda opened the door, and walking in, she headed to the kitchen. She better eat something before they left. Inside the kitchen, Beth was together with Carl, with Carl holding Judith. Amanda gave them a look. "Didn't you go to school this morning?" she asked with a frown.
Beth shook her head violently. "I don't want to go to school!" she protested heatedly again, and Amanda felt tired…so tired. Weren't things supposed to be better when they got inside and found a place for themselves?
Well, three days, and Amanda was still waiting. "Beth—"
Beth cut her off. "I want to come with you on the run!"
Setting the bowl down, Amanda poured some cornflakes in before she shook her head. "No. Go to the school now."
"I said I am not going."
"Beth—" she warned, finding a spoon to start eating the dry mix. There was no milk, and she didn't really like cold water with powdered milk. "Please. This isn't a good time. Just go to the school."
But Beth was in open defiance. "You can't tell me what to do—" She almost sneered the words.
With a deep breath, Amanda let the words wash over her. "I don't know those people," she started explaining in a clipped voice, instead of yelling at her to go to the school just how she wanted. "I don't know how they operate, how they work. We can't go together. You sit out this one, and I'll take you on the next one," she bargained.
As time passed, it became quite obvious that Beth's time had come. A part of her rioted against the idea despite herself, despite everything, wanting to protect her just like she'd promised Maggie, but she couldn't do that. Beth had to be allowed out, for her own damn sake. Amanda knew it. They had to learn how to fly out of the nest; it was her own dawn words! Amanda just wouldn't have guessed it would be this hard.
But finally seeing her reason, the teenager nodded. "You promise?" she asked, but winced after the words left her mouth.
Amanda didn't react…trying not to remember how she'd asked those words last…how Maggie wouldn't have held her own promise. Instead, Amanda nodded. "I promise."
Beth walked out without another word then. Amanda released a sigh. Carl was eyeing her with a look that reminded her of Rick. "Can I come, too?" he asked suddenly.
Amanda turned to him, stupefied. Taking him out too? Being responsible for him that way? Rick's son? The idea passed a tremor through her. No. She couldn't do that. She was hardly dealing with Beth.
Carl saw her expression as she looked at him and read it. "I'm sorry—" she said truthfully. "I can't do it."
Carl's eyes grew heated as much as Beth's. "Because you're with Dad, right?"
The only answer she could give for that was a yes, but Amanda didn't want to do it. So she kept her silence, looking at the teenager. Carl turned and walked out much like Beth's fashion.
It looked like she'd managed to disappoint two teenagers in a record time. She heaved a deep sigh and started eating the cereal, her hip propped against the kitchen island. Just as she finished, she heard the outside door opening, and a few minutes later, Rick appeared in the doorway.
He was in the denim shirt. Amanda clued in that he'd taken off his jacket, so he wasn't leaving now. They shared a look before she set down the finished bowl on the island's countertop. "I'm going—" she stated with a firm voice, and added, as a warning, "and I'm not in the mood for fighting."
"Me either," Rick retorted and pointed outside the corridor with his head. "Let's go to the den." She narrowed her eyes. "There's still time before the hour is finished," he clipped.
After that, Amanda walked around the island, and they went back to the den. This time there was no lovey-dovey stuff. They didn't kiss, and they didn't sleep in each other's arms. Rick eyed her holster as he sat down on the couch. "Got it back?"
"Yeah—" Amanda sat beside him, nodding halfway. "What did you talk about with Deanna?"
Rick grimaced. "Basically, she told me I can't do legwork."
Amanda let out a snicker. "Yeah. You're much too valuable for that."
Rick gave her a look. "She told me she's also sending her son."
Shutting up, Amanda realized Rick had that fight with Deanna, too. She didn't know what to feel. When he'd acted like that this morning, she'd become pissed, like she didn't have a say in it, but the notion of him not wanting her to risk her life doing…legwork, it—it made her breathe easier, too.
She didn't know what that meant. She didn't know anything anymore! Not a damn thing!
"Do you want to go?" Rick asked, twisting aside to look at her.
She almost made a sound— "I—" she said, stopped, and shrugged. "It's my job."
Rick gave her a half nod, bowing his head. Leaning forward, he braced his elbows on his upper knees, and started playing with his hands. "She asked me if you're being out there with other people would be a problem for me—" he spoke lowly, his eyes fixated on the floor. "I lied. I said no." He paused a second as Amanda drew in a breath. "I don't like it."
"I—I understand—" Twisting aside, Rick lifted his head up at her. "But it's still my job." She eased off a small shrug. "Gotta earn my keep."
"Amanda, you don't have to do this if you don't want to—" he told her again, his voice having another heat, but earnest as much as his gaze. Reading what he left unspoken, she swallowed a lump through her throat, but shook her head.
"I—I don't know, Rick—" she told him truthfully. "I need time."
She hoped he would understand. She needed time, for what she wasn't even sure anymore, but she needed to figure it out. The inclinations of his words were clear, but Amanda wasn't sure how she felt about that, either. She'd always taken care of herself, earned her keep; it was her life in a nutshell since her childhood. If you were useful in homes, you had a better chance for stability.
Rick drew up and looked at her as if he understood before he nodded silently. A weight on her chest lifted as Amanda let out a sigh of relief.
Leaning back against the headrest, a sigh escaped from Rick, too. "I think she wanted to test me," he stated, sliding a side look to her.
Then it dawned on Amanda. "Wanted to see how you would react—" she muttered, mulling over it.
Rick gave another terse nod. She shook her head, getting angry with herself. She was getting sloppy. Testing the boundaries would have been the first thing she would've done if she weren't this far caught up in her own drama.
Rick tossed her another look.
"She's been doing it since the beginning, Rick," she told him. "Making us sit in those interviews looking like shit, taping it. Asking you if there's someone special for you, asking me if we're together—" she went on, giving an angry hiss before she jerked her head furiously. "I—I should've thought about this!"
Deanna had set her game while they were lounging in each other's arms, babbling about pancakes!
What was worse, Amanda had wanted it.
She sighed deeply. "Uh, I guess we need to think of a way to test her boundaries also. I can poke around a bit. Push her buttons like I did with you—"
Rick's attention snapped at her again. "What?"
"Uh—" she breathed out, darting a look over to him. "Remember me asking you what you were doing with yourself when you weren't rescuing women in the woods?" she asked as Rick's eyes narrowed. "I—uh—I was poking at you. You said you weren't the leader, that you weren't in the council, but you had keys, a lot of keys, you know. And the way you talked—screamed authority. So I got curious. Poked a little." She shrugged her shoulders.
Rick let out a scoff.
"Hey, you were very…intriguing."
Suddenly the heavy mood between them turned to something else, as his blue eyes darkened with another sharp glint. "Was I?" he asked, leaning towards her.
"Hmm mm—" she murmured, staring at his darkened eyes as he drew even closer to her. "You—" her words cut off as his lips silenced her.
# # #
"What are you going to do?" Amanda asked as they entered the kitchen as she checked her backpack. The thought of her being outside without him was still making his every nerve stand up, but Rick tried to soothe himself down. She'd said she needed time.
It wasn't just for sex. Rick could see it clearly now. It seemed sex wasn't only the thing they had to try to resolve between them.
"We're going to make a patrol outside—" he answered. "Survey the grounds. I want to look around."
Amanda nodded, rummaging through her backpack. "Yeah—" Her hands halted for a second, then she lifted her head. "Beth—Beth and Carl. They asked me to take them out," she suddenly said as Rick's scowl returned. "I declined. But they got mad at me. Again."
There was a tiredness in her voice now, something that made him itch to take her in his arms again, lay them down on that couch. Sleep like that, his hands having a feel of her as she was pressed against his chest, cocooned in his embrace. Rick hadn't slept like that for weeks. He wondered when he could have it again.
"Can you take them, too?" Amanda asked then, looking at him. "Maybe they'd cool down if you take them."
His scowl turned to a full frown. "I'm not taking a tour in the park. They have to find something else to entertain themselves."
"Rick—"
"Amanda—"
"—They still need to learn." She completed as if he hadn't cut her off.
With a sigh, Rick nodded. "Okay. Fine. We take them. I'll go with Daryl. Abraham can come, too."
Amanda bobbed her head halfway and slung the backpack over her shoulder. "Okay. Good." She came to his side. Rick gently cupped the side of her face through her half-ponytail, wishing he could thread his fingers through her loose hair instead. "Be careful out there, 'kay?" he asked her with a rasp, his emotions thinning his voice.
She nodded again, her eyes stuck on his. "Go now—" he murmured at her. "Before I lock you in a room and throw away the keys."
She smiled, and rising on her toes, gave him a peck on the lips. "I'll be back."
"You better be—" he warned.
As she left, Rick let out a deep sigh, telling himself again nothing was going to happen to her. Tonight, she was going to be back in his arms. Staring at the door after her for a few seconds in the corridor, Rick turned and went to the living room. He quickly surveyed the room, wondering again if it was time to move upstairs—but he had another job first.
His eyes wandered but couldn't spot Daryl. It was understandable, as Daryl never liked closed spaces, and had been on watch as much as Rick had. Rick made a mental note to send him to sleep too after they settled this. Walking outside, he crossed the porch and went around the back deck.
-and halted in his steps seeing Joan and Daryl sitting on the steps across from each other, checking over Daryl's bolts in silence. They weren't talking, their heads bowed as they worked in silence, but Rick still felt as of he walked in on them—in a moment.
He cleared his throat a bit as they lifted their heads and looked at him. "Hey, man—" Daryl greeted him, putting a bolt down against his hip. Joan kept her bead bowed, disinterested, and ran her fingers along the bolt's feathers she was holding.
Rick gave her another look. "I thought Deanna wanted you in the sick bay—" he stated, walking closer towards them.
The curly dark haired woman shrugged. "Yeah, but she didn't give a timeline," she replied. "I don't feel like returning to the antiseptic smell yet." She raised her head—towards Daryl who had returned to his job after Rick's arrival and showed him the bolt in her hands. "I think this one has a split," she said as Daryl looked at her. "Check it." She handed him the bolt.
Daryl took it, turning back to him. "What is it?" he questioned.
"I want to make a perimeter check outside. Look around. Inspect the grounds. Coming?"
Daryl rolled his head in a half nod. "Yeah—was getting bored—" He stood up, bowing his head, and his gaze found Joan. "Uh—" Before he could continue, Joan got to her feet.
"I'm coming, too."
They both gave another half nod. They padded back to the front porch. "Do you know where Beth and Carl are?" he asked. "I'm taking them, too. They both made a fuss at Amanda before she left."
Joan nodded. "I saw them walking towards the center—" she answered.
"I'll go get them—" Rick said, "You gather Abraham? He might look around. And ask Glenn, too."
Glenn was still looking better than most of the days before Alexandria, but sitting idly didn't do wonders when you were depressed. Daryl nodded. "See ya at the gate—" he said before they parted ways.
He walked to the pond, wondering if Amanda had already left the gate. His feet almost turned to go to check it out. Rick stopped himself at the last moment. He'd already acted like a jealous, overprotective boyfriend as it was. If he showed up now at the gate, Amanda might kick his ass.
He found the youngsters in a gazebo at the back of the community center, sitting with some new friends. Both Carl and Beth looked a bit distraught at seeing him walking towards them, and Rick narrowed his eyes.
"Hey—you didn't go to school?" he asked, looking at the teenagers. Clarice was still wearing her uniform like the last time Rick had seen her. Carl shook his head as Beth shrugged. "No. Not yet."
"I don't want to—" Beth said, as Rick's gaze caught something on the ground inside the gazebo. Stubbed out cigarette butts.
His head snapped toward Carl, who had followed his look. "Carl—"
"It's not ours, Deputy Grimes," Clarice spoke quickly. "We don't smoke."
Rick eyed them carefully and decided to have a talk with Beatrice. After years of dealing with perps and dealers, Rick knew when he was being lied to. He turned to Carl, deciding to have a talk later, too. "We're going outside with Daryl. Wanna come?" he asked them.
"You're going outside?" Ron asked, taking a step closer. "Can you take us out, too?"
Rick let out a subdued sigh. "I can't do it without your parents'—" He slanted a look at Clarice as she opened her mouth, "—or your sister's approval."
Ron's shoulder sagged. "Dad won't let me—"
Clarice shrugged. "Beatrice might…cry if I ask."
Rick knew they shouldn't do it, but they all shared a little laugh at that. "Um—" Rick told them then, "Amanda—she will start a class soon. You might join it if you want." He turned to Carl and Beth. "You coming?"
They nodded and started walking around the pond towards the armory. They took their guns back and started towards the gate. They heard the clamor even before they made it to the guard outpost. Beside the gate, Spencer Monroe was on gate duty. The man was walking backwards towards the platform's thick beams as Joan stalked the younger Monroe angrily. They were circled by Daryl, Glenn, and Abraham.
Rick quickened his steps as Beth and Carl did the same. Daryl was holding Joan's elbow to pull her back as she spat at Spencer. "What do you mean I can't leave?"
Spencer Monroe looked at the fuming woman, intimidated. "Uh—your name came up this morning. You made it onto the list—" he explained as Rick arrived at the scene. "Mother doesn't want you to leave."
"What list?" Daryl roughed out, pulling Joan to his side.
Rick understood. With a scoff, he shook his head. "Her priority list—" he said, recalling Aaron's words. Deanna—the old politician wolf didn't waste any time. "You've made it onto her first priority list, Joan," he told the nurse.
"I did what?" Joan snapped her head at him.
"You've got medical training—" Rick explained it how Aaron had explained it to him. "It makes you much too valuable an asset to risk outside."
Not like Amanda—the thought passed in his mind as his insides uproared with the idea again, but Deanna was risking her own son as well, which made her at least genuine in her words. Not less devious, though.
"She's got a priority list," Rick continued, slanting a look at the younger Monroe. "People with a profession like medical or engineering or architecture is her top priority. As are single parents with children—" he added remembering Aaron's other words. "As she doesn't want to risk children being orphans."
Carl gave him a look. "You're a single parent, too, dad—" he pointed.
"Well, I guess I'm an exception," Rick sneered.
He'd meant his words as a jab, but Spencer Monroe's eyes held no humor as he turned to Rick. "Yes. Mother gave you a special clearance." He turned to Joan. "Ms. Summers, please—"
"You can't keep her inside—"
"It's for her own good—" Spencer retorted, "And I can't decide on that. It's Mother's decision."
"I'm gonna talk to her—" Rick said, but not now. "Later," he added. Daryl shot him a heavy glare. "We need to go now. I'll talk to her when we return. Joan?" he turned to the nurse.
"Fine—" Joan bit off, storming off away from the gate. Daryl stared at her back.
"Daryl—" Rick prompted. There was something going on between them. If Rick couldn't be sure of it before, after the look he saw Daryl give the dark curly haired woman's back, now he was. There was anger on her behalf in the hunter's clear blue eyes and worry. For a second, Rick thought he would follow Joan, but the next second, Daryl turned aside towards him. "C'mon. Let's go."
Rick frowned a bit, but let it go.
They walked out and quickly crossed the driveway that led the main entrance. It was the first time Rick saw Alexandria's whereabouts in daylight. The streets to the west seemed deserted, a few lone walkers roaming listlessly. There were a few cars parked on the streets. Rick surmised they had been out of gas as they were left alone, but they could be used to block the main gate. They could dig a line of trenches as well and close the street's entrance with a gate. They could pile the vehicles, managing a road block at the intersection that led to the highway. If they could cut it off, they could give better attention to the woods, as anyone would need to come from there with the roads blocked, making them continue on foot.
The woods were far more dangerous.
Wolves Not Far.
They were never.
As soon as they took cover under the trees, Rick felt a familiar feeling returning to him—the faint sounds the branches made as they waved with the wind, the crunches the fallen leaves gave as they crumbled under their heels, the fallen branches creaking. The smell, too. The air was familiar, too, less heavy than Alexandria. In the distance, if he listened, Rick could even hear a distant water sound—which would be a blessing if they were in the woods.
Something clicked in him in a way that felt wrong—and Rick almost thought he came back…home.
No, he forced the thought—the notion off his mind. The woods weren't their home. They belonged to Alexandria now. It was going to be their home.
They had taken a map so they could circle a grid. Daryl had already started moving around, his mood more foul than ever. Rick let the man be.
Besides, making a tour, checking the lay of the land wasn't the only reason why Rick had come out. No. He didn't know when he would need it, but after this morning—after his talk with Deanna, Rick had become sure of it.
He needed a gun. He couldn't leave things to…luck or Deanna's good conscience or her good intentions.
If it came down to that, Rick was going to need a gun. He hoped it wouldn't, but Alexandria was going to be their home. One way or another, he'd promised himself, lifting his head to check around the woods.
They didn't belong to this wilderness.
He made a wave at Daryl. "I'm checking that side—" He pointed to the west, approaching Daryl. "We meet here when the sun shadow five at two. Buried a gun in a cabin around here before we came. I'm gonna retrieve it—" he explained.
Daryl sent him a quick look and nodded. "'kay."
Rick nodded in return, gestured at Carl. "Carl. You're with me." Rick gave another look at Daryl, his eyes glancing at Beth. "Be careful of Beth," he whispered. "She ain't…well."
Daryl rolled his head again. "Got it."
Rick and Carl moved towards the west as Daryl took the others east. While they ranged in the woods, Rick thought they were ready for another talk. "Carl, before I came," Rick started, slanting a look at his boy who trudged beside him through the roots and ditches, "Were you smoking there?"
His answer didn't hesitate. "No, dad."
"Carl—" Rick called out, putting an emphasis in his name.
"What if I did?" his son snapped, twisting to stare at him. "It's the end of the world, dad! What if I smoked a damn cigarette?"
Swallowing down the irritation the swear word provoked, Rick held onto his resolve. "Carl, I'm trying to have a talk here with you…civilly," he clipped, trying very hard to keep his tone…civil.
Carl bowed his head. "Sorry, dad."
"It's okay—" Rick told his son. "But I don't want you to do it again."
Carl shrugged. "I just wanted to…try."
"I know—" Rick replied. "I—I tried once around your age. Got curious."
Surprised, Carl looked up at him. Rick was surprised, too, telling that memory to his son… "Yeah…" he muttered. "It was a dare. Sh—Shane got us into it."
There was a brief pause in the air after that, but Carl didn't react. Perhaps one day they should sit down and talk about that, too. One day. When they were ready. Rick—Rick was still trying. "I hated it," Rick continued, sharing with his son. It felt nice.
"I hated it, too—" Carl replied, admitting.
Rick let out a snicker. "Glad to hear it."
"You smoked, too—" his teenage boy suddenly announced, and Rick almost trapped over a root. "I saw you smoke in the cabin with Amanda—and outside in the church—"
"Yeah—" Rick admitted too. "I did." The cigarettes she'd dealt for him were still waiting though, untouched, much like the condoms she'd saved for them. Untouched. But Rick didn't want to think about them. He didn't even know if she still had them or just got rid of them to create herself an escape route to refuse him…
Not that the lack of condoms had stopped them before—even before he could complete the thought, the images assaulted him—the way they had sex under the tree that day without any barriers that divided them. Their only other time in the bathroom was great, too, but having her naked, feeling her fluttering around him in her heated depths, nothing between them. No. That was something altogether different.
He wondered if they would ever reach to that point again—that she would ever let him touch her without condoms—
Rick stopped the thoughts. He didn't need to think of that now. They were going to wait. Take their time. Even today, Amanda had confessed again she needed time. Despite the pregnancy scares, unprotected sex, being that open to each other... No. They weren't ready for that yet.
"Are you gonna tell Amanda—" Carl questioned him suddenly. Rick gave another look at his son. "Beth smoked, too. I wasn't the only one." Carl paused. "In fact, she was the first one."
Rick sighed.
"Dad—" Carl called out to him, half stopping him. Rick halted his steps, too. "Don't tell Amanda, please. They always fight now."
"I know—" Rick replied, holding back another sigh. "I'll talk to her." Someone had to. Rick had no idea how that talk would go, but they had no options. Perhaps Glenn would deal with it better, but for now, it fell to Rick. "They fought today again?" he questioned, skipping another look over at his son.
"Yeah," Carl asserted and retold, "Beth wanted to go with her. She didn't let her. Said she didn't know how they worked, so she couldn't take Beth with her." A strain entered into his voice as his boy paused. "Said she could come later." He paused, his brows clenching under his sheriff hat in a way that reminded Rick himself. "I asked her if I could come, she declined—" Carl rasped. "She said she couldn't."
Ah. "Carl—"
He cut off Rick, "Because you're together," he finished.
Rick understood, but he knew Carl didn't. He knew his son was angry, barely keeping his temper in check, keeping it…civil. "You got together, and I'm the one who got punished because of it!" Carl reprimanded, his tone low, but the anger he sensed seeping in it.
"Carl—" Rick stopped walking completely. "No one's punishing you. You have to understand Amanda—"
"Yeah, I always have to understand, don't I?" he shot back, his tone still in that low hiss, "Even though I don't like it, I have to accept—" he went on angrily. "Soon she's gonna start training everyone in the town, but not me, because you fuc—"
"Carl!" Rick's voice raised, forgetting keeping it civil… If he ever heard that thing again from Carl's mouth after that disastrous night—
A strained silence befell on them as father and son glared at each other. Bowing his head, Rick pinched the bridge of his nose. "First, she still can train you inside if you want—" Rick started. "But for outside—" Rick paused. He understood her staying abstained, her fear that something would happen to Carl on her watch. Rick didn't want to put more pressure on her with that kind of responsibility. He just wanted her to…be happy.
"If—if you want, I can take you—or Daryl—" Rick continued, trying to find a common ground.
"Can Daryl?" Carl asked, and Rick frowned.
"Don't you want me?"
"You're always too busy—" he said with a shrug. "You can't find time."
His words from the cabin, how Rick could never find time for him hit again, and Rick closed the gap between them with quick steps. He placed his hand over his son's shoulder. "Carl, I can always find time for you."
Carl gave another shrug, turning aside to start walking again. Rick followed. Soon, Rick found the cabin and started digging for the duffel bag he'd buried under the tree
"What are you looking for?" Carl asked.
"I buried guns here before we went inside—" Rick answered truthfully. "Came to retrieve it."
"They said carrying arms inside the walls was against the rules."
"Yeah—" Rick replied, digging.
"Can I have one, too?"
Rick shook his head. Carl's expression soured. "I've only got one. The others are out of bullets. You know we're short on ammo," he explained.
He finished a few minutes later, just before a lone wandering walker found them. Rick got to his feet, but before he could go and put it down, Carl walked to it and did it instead.
His jaw squared as Carl looked at him in challenge, but this time Rick kept his mouth shut. He checked the magazine, eyeing the bullets and reloaded. He twisted his arm back and tucked the gun inside his waistline under his shirt and jacket.
"Come on—" Rick motioned his son. "Let's go."