AN: Here we are, another chapter here.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111
"This is my farm. My house. I built it with my father and my grandfather. I built it with my hands. It's my turn to talk."
Daryl didn't mind if Hershel talked. In fact, he preferred the sound of the old man's voice to Rick's pretty much all the time. Carol had been up very early. She'd roused the occupants of the RV, and Jo had taught Carol, Andrea, and Sophia how to gather eggs—just the way she liked it done, as she said, so that nobody traumatized her laying ladies—before she taught them how to milk the cows that had been loudly lowing, by that point, to complain about tardiness.
Daryl woke Jacqui and T-Dog before he sent them to join Glenn and Dale in pumping water into buckets to haul to the house. There was laundry to be done today, and the machines put too much strain on the generator, so it had to be done by hand. Daryl didn't mind scrubbing clothes if he had to, but he'd much rather haul buckets of water all day for everyone to warm over a fire built in a small pit in the yard.
Daryl's job wasn't to haul buckets, though—at least not at first. Daryl only had to go about a quarter of a mile out to find the deer that he hauled back, but he was pleased to see there were signs of a large population of deer in the area. Meat didn't last long with so many mouths to feed, but at least he could help feed those mouths. He cleaned the deer and cleared the traps that he'd set, resetting each of them. If he got the OK from Hershel today, which he had been pretty certain he would, he'd start on that rabbit hutch. He'd boxed up the three rabbits he caught, giving them a pardon to fuck for their lives—at least temporarily—if Hershel would allow such a thing. T-Dog, having worked some construction in a past dotted with about as many odd jobs as Daryl had held down, figured they could build the hutch in no time, provided they could find some wood they didn't have to plank themselves, and then they could work on a good smokehouse for storing meat that would feed a lot of mouths through the winter.
Shane had appeared in time to help Daryl carry the deer the last little bit of the way out of the woods. He'd looked much like Merle after a bender, and he hadn't wanted to talk. That had suited Daryl just fine.
Rick and his wife didn't appear until sometime around what Daryl figured to be nine. It wasn't late by some standards, but on a farm, it was practically noon. What was worse, was that the smell of meat, eggs, and toast had been what finally pulled them from their room.
Without enough room to eat at the table, everyone had sort of spread out to consume their food where they could. The dishes were piled in anticipation of someone scrubbing them—likely the same people who had prepared the morning meal—and everyone's food had just started to digest decently when Andrea had made her announcement, with the least fanfare that anyone had probably ever put behind such an announcement, that she was pregnant. That was really all she'd said. She thought that everyone might want to know that she'd discovered she was pregnant and, having disappeared with Hershel for a bit during the morning's work to get confirmation, it appeared that everything was going as well as could be expected for the time being. They might expect a baby, if Hershel's guess was correct, in four to five months.
The congratulations that she'd received had been somewhat half-assed, but Daryl figured that nobody really knew exactly what was proper to say to a woman who had just lost her husband and sister, and who was living in a corpse-ridden hell, when she admitted that she'd just discovered she was pregnant. Still, Daryl appreciated the attempts to look cheerful as they congratulated her, and he appreciated the smile that came to Andrea's face.
That was, perhaps, why it set him off when Lori had voiced her opinion.
"It feels so strange to say congratulations," she mused, "when—it's basically just another mouth to feed in this world…"
Maybe—just maybe—Daryl would have accepted such a statement. Maybe he would have even agreed with it, at least to some extent, if the circumstances had been entirely different and the timing had been different.
"You ain't the one fuckin' feedin' it," he'd snarled before he'd even realized that his brain gave his mouth permission to form the words. "You ain't the one feedin' no damn body around here!"
"She only meant that resources are strained," Rick said.
"And we'da had a lot more fuckin' resources if my brother was here, whole an' healthy, to help bring in fuckin' food!"
"He'd've probably been out of his mind on some drugs," Lori said with a laugh. Daryl's blood had boiled and his skin had prickled.
"He'da fed his fuckin' family, don't you worry about that, Olive Oyl!" Daryl had growled. "So, you just shut your fuckin' mouth!"
"Or you're going to…what? Murder me, Daryl? Like you murdered Ed?" Lori asked, clearly prepared to throw stones as long as no one was allowed to throw them back at her.
"I'd say fuck you, but that shit's already been covered…"
Daryl was ready when Rick started to come for him. He welcomed it. But Shane got in Rick's way on purpose and T-Dog got in Daryl's way.
"Calm down, man," T-Dog said. "Just—go your way over there. Leave it. It ain't worth this shit."
It had been Hershel's booming voice that had stopped everyone. The old man was usually somewhat reserved, and Daryl hadn't heard him raise his voice, but his shout made it clear that he wanted everyone's attention, and he wanted it now. Daryl half expected to see him standing there with a shotgun when he directed his attention to him.
It was his turn to talk.
Daryl didn't mind if Hershel talked. He preferred his voice to Rick's pretty much all the time.
"I will not have this in my home," Hershel said. "Not anymore. As of this moment? It's done. This unrest is leaving my home one way or another. Whether you decide to have peace or someone leaves, I don't care, but I will not have this infecting my home and my family."
"We can't leave," Lori said, hitting her feet quickly in protest. "Carl isn't well…he'd never survive out there."
"As a family man," Rick said, "you have to understand what I'm dealing with. My son is…weak, at best."
"I am aware of the condition of your son," Hershel said. "But you're forcing me to put the needs of my family ahead of the needs of yours. I will not continue to live in my own home, surrounded by constant bickering and negativity."
"Look—it's stress," Shane offered. "We've been through a lot. We haven't been safe in a while. Everyone's just—got a lot of shit to deal with."
"Deal with it out there," Hershel said. "Out of my home, off my farm, and away from my family."
"Fine," Daryl said, standing up.
"What are you talking about?" Lori asked.
"He's right," Daryl said. "It's his farm. His family. We're squatters here. We don't got a right to a single damn thing here. He wants us to leave, we gotta leave." Daryl glanced at Carol and nodded his head in her direction. "Let's get the truck packed up."
Carol was already on her feet. Sophia was in the room, and as soon as the shouting had started, Carol had run for her daughter and wrapped her arms around her—it was instinct. Carol did it as quickly and as surely as any animal had ever performed any task that was hard-wired into their brains. Daryl had seen it any time she feared that something or someone might hurt the little girl. Carol's instinct to protect her daughter's body with her own had, more than likely, saved Sophia more than once throughout her life.
Carol nodded at Daryl and, without hesitation, started to lead Sophia out of the room.
"You don't speak for all of us…" Lori said.
"You right," Daryl said. "But I speak for my family."
"Not everyone has to go…" Lori said.
"I'll get our things, Sweetie," Jacqui said, directing her words to T-Dog, "but I can't take down the tent."
"I can help with the tents," Glenn offered.
"Wait," Jo said. "Wait…wait…Hershel…"
Everyone stopped their progress toward the door, but nobody did more than turn their body back toward the old man who looked more tired than, really, he should at this hour. Jo had her eyes locked on him, and he met her eyes.
"I don't want that baby being born out there," Jo said. "How are they going to deliver it?"
"Women have been having babies since the dawn of time, Jo," Hershel said. "They'll figure it out. Her body will know what it needs to do."
"And if it doesn't? I could use the help," Jo said. "And more than that—you can use the help. With Otis gone now, and…it'll be cold soon, and you could use the hands."
"It's been nice to have the help this morning…"
"We don't mind helping," Dale offered. "And I'm sure all of us would appreciate the help with the baby. I'm certain I don't know how to deliver one…and Daryl can help keep us all fed through the winter while we help with other chores."
"She could lose that baby out there, living hand to mouth with no way to store up," Jo said, practically knotting her hands.
"I don't want to lose my baby," Andrea said.
The immediate concern in her voice made it clear to Daryl that she wasn't playing to try to increase their likelihood of remaining on the farm. She had simply failed to think that far ahead with everything else she had on her mind, and now she was genuinely struck by the thought.
Carol put an arm around her shoulder and hushed her, affectionately pressing her face next to Andrea's.
"Shhh…it's OK," Carol offered. "They're more resilient than you think. Trust me."
Hershel looked squarely at Daryl.
"Did you really murder someone?" He asked.
Daryl chewed his lip and nodded.
"Ain't no reason to lie," Daryl said.
"Someone—living?" Hershel asked.
"With a huntin' knife," Daryl said, nodding his head. "But—I done it for my family, and I won't apologize for it. He put his hands on my wife. Woulda put 'em on my lil' girl. Weren't the first time, neither. I guess…I saw red. Like I said, I don't apologize for it. And if that's the reason you want us to leave? Then, we'll be packed and outta here in less than an hour. We'll figure out how to get the baby here."
"My child has been seriously injured," Lori protested suddenly, the moment that it looked like something might somehow swing in the favor of Daryl and his family—and the others that seemed to have silently decided that, required to choose, would be moving on with him rather than waiting to see what Rick and Lori could do to the old man and his family.
Hershel sighed.
"I believe we already knew that your child was safe," Hershel said. "And—I don't relish sending any other children out there either…be they healthy, recovering or, as of this moment, unborn. But—I will not live feeling like I'm denied even a moment's peace in my own home. I understand there will be conflicts and differences of opinion. But—either you figure out how to handle them, or you take them off my property." Daryl nodded his understanding. He noticed Rick and Shane doing the same. They weren't alone. "And one more thing—Rick? This remains my farm, and my home. As long as you remain here—as long as any of you remain here—it's still my home. I have the final word in everything. I understand if that's undesirable. I ask anyone that wishes to debate that to make sure the gate latches behind you when you leave."
Everyone stood stiffly for a moment, most of them were glancing at each other to see what might happen.
Daryl made eye contact with Carol.
"House not too far from here with a barn and all. People's gone. Patricia said they died, so they don't have no more use for it. T and me was gonna see what we could pull down for recyclin' into a rabbit hutch and smokehouse."
"I'll get started on the dishes, and then we can start the laundry…"
"I'll help clean things out at the house," Shane said. "There's bound to be things we can use."
"I need to see if Carl can eat some breakfast," Lori said. Daryl couldn't tell if she was pleased or pissed off with the arrangement. He could see that Rick was clearly annoyed, but also smart enough not to buck Hershel at the moment. Hershel must have followed Daryl's line of sight.
"Everyone should find something to do," Hershel said. "There's no room for idle hands."
Daryl accepted that and left Hershel to say anything he had to say to anyone else. He kissed Carol and placed a kiss on Sophia's head before he called out to get T-Dog's attention and started out the door.