Shitheads, Mail Theft, and Heroin Part II
When the others had left on their supplies hunt, Daryl found Toby sitting on the bed in her room again. The door was open but he knocked anyway, alerting her of his presence. When she only looked at him without a response, he took it as an assurance he could go in. He slowly made his way to the bed before sitting down next to her, giving her plenty of chances to tell him she didn't want the company. But she didn't, instead, she wiped her mouth with her wrist and cleared her throat.
"You could've said somethin'," he said softly, trying to make it obvious he wasn't mad or annoyed. Which he was, about some things, but he wanted to be calm, easy. Maybe she'd return the same tone that way. "We weren't far, we could've come."
She wiped her cheek with her wrist and looked up at him, raising her eyebrows in mock disbelief.
He sighed, "I, uh . . . I didn't mean any of it. Last night."
Her eyebrows furrowed then, confused and surprise enveloping her features. She wasn't blank or expressionless, she wasn't even trying to hide her face.
He was surprised himself, he meant to say it, but still surprised nonetheless he could get the words out. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry?" She echoed.
"For actin' like a shithead," he smirked slightly, watching as the corner of her mouth twitched. "I wasn't pissed at you. I was pissed at me, that stupid fuckin' bitch that ran off. Fuck I was mad at . . . One wrong move, one second too long and we coulda lost everythin'."
Toby looked down.
Daryl hesitated before continuing, "I didn't just go for gas. I tried trackin' her. But it was dark and it looks like she stuck to the road a while."
"Mister T-Dog killed that man."
"Yeah, yeah he did. And I was gonna kill that bitch if I found her." He said truthfully, "and you really don't have to do the mister thing. I get its somethin' you were taught but, just use names alright?"
Daryl honestly forgot that was how she addressed people, even before she went practically mute, she barely used anyone's names. If no one told her to cut the title out of their names, she wasn't going to. She nodded in response.
"M'sorry," she said.
"For what?"
"For bein' a shithead."
He couldn't help but laugh a little, "guess we're still gettin' used to each other, huh? Or maybe just people in general."
"People suck," she mumbled.
Daryl agreed, giving a soft smile, he looked at her just in time to see a tear fall. Just like that, her mood shifted. "How's it feel? Bein' here."
"Different. Weird. He's not here. He's dead." It wasn't a question, but her voice rose a little at the end as if she wanted Daryl to contradict her.
"We don't know, we prob'ly won't. Yer never gonna stop wonderin' what happened that day. Maybe he lived, maybe he didn't, same with Merle. But it don't matter." He reached forward, gently taking the hat off her head, almost afraid she would protest, she didn't, she only raised her tear-filled eyes to look at him. He didn't like when the hat hid her face like it did, she hid her face enough when she wasn't wearing it, he wanted to know that she was paying attention because this was the end of it, she would understand, she had to.
Daryl continued, "they're gone. We have to deal with that, and we gotta move on from it. It's always gonna be a question, ya hear me? Is he dead, is he alive, is he out there. But ya gotta stop, cause those questions don't help, 'cause yer never gonna know."
"Never?"
He wanted to tell her there was a chance because maybe there was. Maybe there was a chance they'd find Merle or her dad. Or maybe they'd find a body, maybe somehow they'd find out. But she was already having a hard time, and if he gave her that hope, he was afraid she wouldn't be able to let it go.
"We don't know what happened. We're not gonna know. Ya gotta let the questions go, or it's gonna eat ya up 'til there's nothin' left. Ya knew he wasn't gonna be here, but ya let herself . . . Ya coulda died runnin' off like that, all because of this, what if there were more of those people, what if that bitch was still close?"
His eyes went to the corner of her forehead, the bruise wasn't horrible. It was brown, with a tinge of yellow and green around the edges. The middle was adorned with a few small scraped and dried blood, where the brick had dug into her skin.
His fingers reached out, grazing the injury as she winced and pulled away.
"It hurt much?"
"Only when ya touched it," she said.
"You've had worse," he commented.
She turned away, as did Daryl, he eyed the toy duck on the shelf. Admitting the guilt and stress from the night before had taken loads off his shoulders.
"You coulda died last night, it ain't the first time. And . . ." he paused, wanting to be honest. "It ain't gonna be the last."
"Maybe I should've."
Daryl's head jerked so fast he could've gotten whiplash. Toby wasn't looking at him.
Daryl's hand lashed out, gripping the back of her neck, pulling her closer to him forcefully until their noses were almost touching.
Toby's eyes were wide-set as a sound of surprise escaped her lips. He held onto the back of her neck tightly with his two index fingers on one side, his thumb on the other. He held her tight enough to keep her still, forcing her to keep her eyes on his, but not tight enough to hurt or leave bruises.
"Don't you fuckin' start that shit," he growled out, his voice low and raspy. "I know I've told ya—been tellin' ya, no one's gonna punish you. No one's gonna hurt ya, no one's gonna beat ya black and blue. Maybe ya don't believe me yet, maybe ya do. Don't care. But believe me when I tell ya, you say anythin' like that again, I will not hesitate to smack you."
Her eyes were dancing between his as if she couldn't decide which eye to stare at. She didn't look fearful, only surprised, maybe almost expectant.
"We did not get this far—we did not go through all this bullshit for you to cop-out. We just pulled Guillermo out of that hole, don't you fuckin' dare dig a new one."
She frowned, her eyes seemed to get a bit harder, as if ready to argue back. But Daryl kept going, not wanting to give her the chance.
"You don't miss your dad. You miss the control, how easy shit was when someone was tellin' ya what to do and all you had to do was do it. Ya got no reins, and you have no idea what to do with yourself. But it's easy, all ya gotta do, is stay safe, and stay close."
"I want my dad-"
"-Ya want easy. You wanted shit to go back to how it was and come home. You got to go home, know why it feels so different?"
"Daddy's not here."
"No. Because you're different."
Daryl took a deep breath. Toby went quiet, only staring back at him. Her eyes flooded, causes some tears to fall when she blinked. Daryl slowly released her neck, as she straightened herself out, he lowered his hand to her back.
He watched as she turned her head, taking in a shaky breath before wiping the tears again. Daryl's chest felt heavy with sympathy and concern, without thinking too much about it, he reached his hand further around her, his hand on her opposite arm. With his arm around her, he pulled her in so she was leaning into his side.
"What're ya doin'?" She asked, her tone confused. Daryl had her leaning into him, the back of her head against his chest.
"Hugging," he answered dismissively, feeling awkward and embarrassed.
"Why?"
Good question, he thought. "It's what people do."
"It's weird."
"Yeah," he agreed. Though he didn't take his arm away, and Toby's tense body relaxed against him.
The two of them sat like that for several minutes. Toby's crying had calmed, her breathing was still uneven but she wasn't sobbing.
"We're stuck with each other, y'know?" Daryl told her. "Not just you and me, all of 'em out there. I know this shit sucks, may not get any better any time soon, but shits gotta change. Ya hear what I'm sayin'? Me and you . . . everything is . . ." He wanted to scream a string of curse words, hating how hard it was to explain his thoughts. "We gotta change, 'cause nothin' else is gonna. We gotta deal the cards we're dealt. If this is how it's gonna be, we gotta work with that, not against it."
Toby didn't say anything, leaving Daryl to wonder if he made any sense.
"Doesn't matter how much ya hate them, I don't like them all the time either. But shits gonna change. This ain't temporary no more."
"Don't hate them . . ." she mumbled.
"You hate Rick."
Daryl felt her tense under his arm. She slowly pulled away, eyeing him carefully.
"Ya don't think I see how ya look at him? Like yer plannin' somethin'? They trust ya with that gun, don't fuck it up. I don't even get why . . ." he lost his words again, though maybe it was a good thing. He was starting to get angry, his voice rising. "Just get over it. Shane got himself killed, he almost got you killed. He's dead, it's done, it's over. You used to hate that guy."
She glared at him before turning away, "ya don't get it."
"Neither do you apparently."
Toby just turned away, there was no point in arguing. Daryl wanted to ask about that day, he never fully understood, how could she be so worked up over her kidnapper? Daryl understood grieving for a member of the group, even he took some time to get used to Shane's absence. But she'd been mourning for months, she was more obsessive over Shane's death then her father being gone or dead. He wondered if it was different because she'd watched it, maybe it was some kind of survivor's guilt.
"Just be careful, behave," he practically pleaded. He could tell she was angry, he tried to be apologetic, they had to stop the back and forth fighting. Daryl decided to change the subject. "So . . . Tobiah?"
Toby's head snapped back at him, her eyes were wide with surprise and confusion, all the contempt from before gone from her features.
"How—How did you-"
"-Found it."
She grimaced and then groaned as if she was in pain.
"Why didn't ya tell me?"
She sighed, shrugging as her expression calmed, "forgot."
"You forgot your name?" Daryl raised an eyebrow mockingly as he took his words slowly, confirming what she said.
"Yeah. No one calls me that, I'm Toby. Mama used to, sometimes. Some teachers."
"Maybe I'll just toss them both out, call you Nellie."
Toby looked horrified, she grabbed the dusty pillow next to her and hit Daryl with it. Daryl just laughed, while she glared, "I'mma shoot ya."
"Nah, ya like me too much,"
They sat together for a while longer, sometimes talking, sometimes just sitting in silence. Seeing how her mood had gotten better, Daryl contemplated asking her about Shane, what happened that day. He could never get himself to bring it up, he wanted to understand her perspective, why she was so defensive about his death. He decided it wasn't the best time.
Toby cleared her throat, letting out a small cough. Daryl didn't think about it. Maybe he should've.
He decided to ask about something else, he reached into his pocket and brought out a small pill bottle. He'd stuck it in his pocket when no one was paying attention.
Toby raised her eyebrows at the bottle, looking nervous and surprised.
"You gonna tell me why the hell ya had oxy in yer bag?"
She gave him a dark look.
"Ya dumped it," he reminded her.
She shrugged, "it was in the car."
"What car?"
"Daddy's car."
"So, ya just took it? That's it? Ya had it this whole time?"
She nodded.
"Why the hell did ya keep them this long for?"
Toby shrugged again, "the hell I keep the keys for?"
Daryl eyed her for a moment but didn't respond to that. "You didn't take any did ya?"
Toby shook her head.
"Don't take any weird pills," he warned her, nodding with relief.
Toby's eyebrows scrunched up, thinking about it. "What if it's from Merle?"
Daryl's eyes widened, staring at her incredulously, "What?"
Lori stepped into the house from the front door, shutting it behind her. She'd been sitting on the porch steps since the others left, needing the fresh air. Carl was sitting on the couch, his head hung low.
"Carl?" Lori sat beside him, her hand on her stomach, "what's wrong?"
Carl looked up at her, "did dad kill that guy?"
She paused her movements, Lori knew Carl would be asking questions, she hadn't been able to let herself answer them the night before. Carl hadn't seen what happened, only a glimpse of the aftermath. "No, not your father."
"Who, then?"
"You don't need to-"
"-I want to know."
Lori sighed.
"I get it," he went on. "He was bad, right? He tried to hurt Toby, hurt all of us. So he had to die."
Lori wanted to deny it, tell him nobody had to die, that that wasn't how things were supposed to be. But it wouldn't be right. That wasn't the right answer, not with how things were in this new world.
"T did what he had to do to protect himself and the rest of us. The man didn't have to die, but that was what happened."
Carl looked confused but moved on. "What about the other one, when everyone was talking, there was another. They got away?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't we go after them? What if they come back? Shouldn't we do something?"
"No, baby. We're safe now, she ran because she knew she couldn't hurt us. She won't come back."
Carl continued to voice his concern and uncertainty about the situation, he particularly didn't like that the others had gone out and left them behind. He argued that after what happened they should've all stayed together. Lori went on to reason with him. There had been a small argument about separating after the events of that night, but it was easily agreed upon that the kids needed rest, Toby needed time, and they all needed food. Not to mention they had to be wary about how much to push the pregnant lady.
"It's just for tonight. Just so you and Toby can rest. She's going through a difficult time, being here is hard for her."
"If it's so hard, why are we here?"
"Because it might be what she needs. Don't you miss our home?"
Carl went quiet before nodding his head.
"We just have to be patient with each other, share support."
Carl rolled his eyes, causing Lori to frown. She waited for him to voice his thoughts when he didn't, she told him; "why don't you lie down? You barely slept, you need rest."
"Why did she lie?" he said abruptly, slouching into the couch as he pouted.
"What do you mean? Who?"
"Toby," he said her name with a twinge of distaste. "That's not even her real name. Why would she lie about that?"
Lori stared at him blankly, "Carl, what are you talking about?"
"I heard Sasha and Daryl talking, they were looking at some stuff. Her name is Tobiah. Not Toby."
Lori took a few moments before responding, it was a surprise to her. The others hadn't shared what they found. She thought about when she first met the young girl, and the weeks following before anyone knew what to call her.
When Lori noticed Carl watching her expectantly, she knew she'd have to answer. Give him something to wash away the hurt on his face, "It must just be a nickname, sometimes people prefer to be called something else."
"Like T-Dog? His name is Theodore."
"That's right. I'm sure she didn't mean to lie, she probably didn't lie at all. That's just what she likes to be called."
Carl seemed a bit less hurt, but he continued to pout with his arms crossed. "I thought she was my friend."
"You're still friends, it's just a misunderstanding." Lori was trying not to smile too much, she thought it was cute, the way he was acting, almost funny.
He shook his head, "friends talk to each other, they do stuff. She doesn't talk anymore."
Lori wasn't smiling anymore. It was obvious over the months that Toby's silence had gotten to him, she'd seemed to have been getting better, playing card games and such. But still, at the end of each day, she retreated inside herself. With Carl the only other kid, and Toby keeping to herself, Lori could understand why he felt lonely and maybe a bit offended.
"We've been through a lot, we've lost a lot," she stroked her sons hair, trying to provide him comfort without smothering him. "Everything is an adjustment and people deal with things in different ways. None of this is easy. What happened before we left the farm . . . it's not an easy thing to understand, or deal with."
"You mean when Shane died?"
She tried to appear unaffected by his name, brave, neutral. "Yes, that's what I mean. That wasn't an easy loss, maybe our hardest yet. It's taken her some time since but-"
"-That's bullshit!"
"Carl!"
"It is! She barely knew him! Shane was our family first, he was our friend! But she gets to act like-"
"-Carl!" Lori repeated, interrupting him with a warning tone. "Stop that right now. She doesn't get to act that way. Knock it off. I know you're tired, you're hungry and hurt. I know this is frustrating and I know you miss him, I miss him too. And so does she. We don't own grief, we share our losses and we all grieve one way or another. You didn't know Sophia any longer than Toby knew Shane, but she was your friend and you cared about her."
"And she died," he muttered.
"And she died. Did anyone get upset over how you felt, even if Carol knew her longer? It's not a fair comparison. Do you remember what I said about supporting each other? This is happening to all of us."
"She's not doing anything. She doesn't even talk! If she doesn't care why should I?"
"Because you do care. She cares too. But sometimes . . . it's hard to give something you can't give yourself. Maybe she just needs a nudge, like with the cards. You all found a fun way to include her in a way she was comfortable with. Because you were there to be her friend, that's all you have to continue to do."
Lori let it sink in, hoping she was making sense to him, "you heard her talking today, the most in a long time. She told you about Shithead."
Carl's lips curled up a bit, despite him trying to look unhappy. "You think being at home made her better?"
"Not exactly, but she could be feeling differently. Don't give up on her yet."
Lori and Carl turned their heads around behind the couch, both hearing the footsteps from that direction. Daryl stood in the doorway from the hall, eyeing them as they stared at him.
"Carl, can you . . . I need to talk to Daryl."
"Can I talk to her?" Carl asked.
Lori glanced at Daryl for an answer, he gave her a very small shake of the head, almost barely visible. "Maybe later, alright?"
"Can I go outside?"
"Backyard, as long as you don't go anywhere else and you stay in sight. I better be able to look out that window and find you right away, understand?"
"Yes, mom."
"You have your gun?"
He nodded.
"Go on, then."
The two watched as Carl went through the kitchen and out the back door. When he was gone, Lori let out a shaky breath, blinking as a few tears fell. The conversation had brought up a lot for her, it was hard to keep a strong front for her son.
"Ya need me for somethin'?" Daryl asked her awkwardly, not sure whether he should acknowledge her crying.
"No, no . . . just . . . How is she? I wanted to check on her, but I thought maybe that wasn't a good idea."
Daryl hummed a neutral tone, not agreeing but also not disagreeing. Lori turned her head back to sit properly, twisting herself around had been hard on her back. Daryl walked around the couch, taking a seat at the far end.
"She's talkin'. That ain't bad, I guess."
"Do you think that she'll keep at it? Maybe she's finally pushed through that . . ." Lori struggled to explain it, "quiet stage?"
"Dunno. Kid's always been quiet, even when she talked more it wasn't much. Just happens ta have a lot ta say right now."
"Is this a good thing? Drudging this up? Being back home for her, after everything. Do you think it'll make it worse?"
"It ain't horrible. She's gotta move on, like we all do."
"She was looking for her father? That's why she came here right?"
Daryl glanced at Lori out of the corner of his eye, not wanting to turn to her. He pretended to look around as if everything was suddenly fascinating. He was afraid if he looked at her she'd cry more. "Been tryin' ta keep it simple. Lay it out for her. She wanted him to be here, but she ain't stupid. The kid just wants answers."
"Anyone would. How do you grieve for a death you don't know about?"
The question was rhetorical, so Daryl didn't have to respond, which he was glad for. He heard Lori suck in a breath loudly, causing him to look over. Daryl instantly regretted it because as soon as he looked, Lori was wiping tears from her eyes. He turned away quickly.
"Shane wanted to tell her," Lori started, covering her face in the palms of her hands. "We wanted to give it a bit of time, just in case. All we knew, all she knew was that he walked off. That was why Shane left the note, just in case he made it back, maybe there was a reason he left, there had to have been a reason."
Lori took her hands from her face, trying not to let herself break down. It wasn't just about Toby, talking about it was dredging up all the panic from the beginning, Rick's supposed death, the bombing of the city, the worry.
Lori shook her head, trying to assure herself she could go on. "I told him not to tell her. I couldn't stop thinking about Rick, when we had to tell Carl his dad was dead. And we were so sure about it! There was no chance Rick would come back." She wore an ironic smile as if it was all ridiculous. "But we didn't know with her father, we didn't know what happened. I was horrible, I was so sure someone would come, not even her father, but someone to end it all. Rescue would come, it would all blow over and we would be saved. I thought it made sense, to wait and see because if things had ended differently, someone else would take her and it would be out of our hands."
Daryl looked at her then, he could understand the last part. He didn't agree with her actions, but even he was waiting for the moment this would end. The dead walking was so unbelievable there was no way it would last.
"Makes ya feel stupid, don't it?" he sympathized. "That we were waitin', thinkin' the military was gonna sweep us off our feet."
Lori met his eyes, "you and your brother were the ones to tell us, you knew."
"Didn't know shit. Just cause we talked big don't mean we didn't want shit to get fixed." He paused as Lori sniffled, "it don't matter. What ya told her, what ya didn't. It's over and done with. Just gotta deal with it now."
"I didn't want to be the one to shatter another childs' world. I couldn't make Shane because he'd already done it for me with Carl. The longer we waited the harder it was to tell her," she explained. "I blamed him for listening to me. I had Carl, and Shane took care of her most of the time, so I just expected him to do, I'm not even sure what, just anything because I didn't know what to do myself. I mean, it was easy enough, she never said a word, no one could really talk to her. It was easy to just forget how she must've felt, she always looked alright."
Daryl glanced behind him quick, just checking the hall to make sure Toby hadn't left her room.
"Then she's following Merle, and you," Lori stared at Daryl with what seemed like astonishment and admiration. "And talking, she was talking as if she never stopped, she didn't say much but it was more than we'd ever heard. And when she started talking it got harder, we had no idea how to talk to her . . . I remember one night Shane . . . he looked so worried and so angry at himself, he just looked at me and said 'I don't know this girl. I spent weeks with this quiet kid I thought I knew, but I don't, we don't know her.' He kept asking me what to say to her, I was the parent, he thought I'd have an answer but I didn't. It wasn't like getting to know Sophia, or any other kid. Because as soon as we thought we knew her, she changed."
Lori pinched the bridge of her nose, sniffing slightly. "He cared about her, so much. He felt responsible for her since that night on the highway. He tried so hard and so long to connect with her. And for the longest time, she wouldn't let us, she just . . . But he never stopped trying. He was always so set on making things right with her. I don't think he forgave himself, after telling her countless times her dad was coming. Even though it wasn't just him, he never blamed me, not once, but he let me blame him."
Daryl was at a loss for words, but he figured there wasn't anything proper to say at the time. The talking was more for her than anyone, an outlet of her guilt and grief. He let her talk, but when she was done, he felt awkward and out of place. He gained a bit more understanding of what happened before Shane gave Toby the news about her father. Daryl didn't like it or agree with it, he gained more understanding of Lori and some sympathy but that was it.
"We move on," he finally said.
Lori met his eyes, giving a nod. "We move on."
After several moments, Lori attempted to slowly lift herself off the couch. Daryl stood quickly, taking her arm to help her. She smiled and gave a nod of thanks, mumbling something about staying with Carl as she walked away.
Daryl stood in place. When Lori was in the kitchen, almost to the back door she stopped and turned back to him.
"She thinks the world of you, you know that right?"
Daryl only stared back at the pregnant woman, not sure what to make of those words.
"I know you've had a hard time with it, it hasn't been easy. But you've stepped up, for her and for us."
He shook his head, "ain't done nothin'."
"You've done everything. When we left Atlanta, she went to you, and every moment after you were there. You were there for her when we didn't know how to be. T said so last night, and he's right. She chose to stay with you when we left the farm, not us, you. Because she knew you would be there, every moment after."
Daryl felt cornered, not knowing how to react, he wanted to scoff and shake his head, but all he could do was stare.
"Thank you." And she was gone.
Hours later, Daryl, Lori and Carl were in the living room sharing two cans of food they split up as evenly as they could. They'd left some aside for Toby, who hadn't left her room.
Daryl was seated on the floor, pouring a bit of food out of a can and into his mouth. Lori sat on the end of the couch, while Carl was lying down, taking up the rest of it with his head on the opposite arm. He'd fallen asleep right after eating.
"We should see if she'll eat," Lori said. Daryl nodded, then he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He moved to the window, to look out front, seeing a Walker blindly stumbling around.
"I'll get it, take her the food."
Lori nodded and did as he said.
It was only the one Walker, Daryl waited, even walked around a bit to make sure it was alone. When he was sure, he went back inside, Lori was on the couch, giving him a smile.
"What?"
"She's sleeping too. Snoring and everything. Poor kids."
Daryl nodded, thinking it was good. She'd been having a hard time going to sleep and staying asleep for months. He thought the attack may make it worse on her, but she was exhausted nonetheless. He hoped she could get a decent rest. But he paused, thinking over Lori's words.
"Snorin'?" He felt stupid for repeating it, but it irked him for some reason.
Lori nodded, "out like a light."
Daryl hesitantly looked around before making his way to her room, not wanting to give anything away. Though he wasn't sure what there was to give away, he didn't understand what bothered him so much. People snore, he told himself.
Not Toby, the contradiction echoed in his head. Kid's dead quiet until she starts her whimpering or screaming.
He opened the door and peeked in, Lori must've closed it for her. She'd been right, it wasn't very loud, but he could hear the low rumbling of Toby's snoring with each breath. The snores were low and soft, yet had a certain ruggedness to them. He watched her for a few moments before leaving, pushing the thoughts away.
It was just snoring, it didn't mean anything, right? But it still nagged at him, like an itch at the back of his brain. Daryl could've been over-analyzing, or was his instinct prodding at him?
Hours past the sun went down, the others weren't back. Lori was anxious but tried not to say anything. There wasn't much they could do but wait. Daryl was apprehensive as well, becoming worried he'd have to make another plan. But there was no way he could drag both kids and pregnant women away, only just him to protect them.
A scream echoed down the hallway, causing Lori and Daryl to jump. Lori made a move to run down the hall but Daryl held his arm out, stopping her.
He rushed down the hall on his own, pushing Toby's door open to see her sitting up in her bed, panting for air, he eyes wide with fear.
He expected her to be a thrashing mess, not even fully awake, but she was. Daryl pulled his flashlight out of his back pocket, shining it around. He'd brought it out earlier in preparation for the dark, they had no candles or electricity.
"Ya good?" He asked, walking toward the bed slowly. He couldn't comfort her the way he could when she was still asleep. Well, maybe he could, but that day was different, he'd already hugged her before. Daryl didn't want to coddle her or make her feel more uncomfortable by physical contact.
"I wanna go," she said after a while.
"Tomorrow."
Toby frowned at him with a slight glare.
"It's too dark and the others ain't back. We leave in the mornin'."
She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her wrist, "don't wanna be here no more."
"They're back, I see them!" Lori yelled from the living room.
Daryl stared at Toby, who looked exhausted and distressed.
"We need sleep, gotta stay a bit longer."
Toby looked uncomfortable, she glanced around the room, looking unsure. It was as if she was seeing a whole new place, and she didn't like it at all.
This wasn't a surprise to Daryl, he had been waiting for a similar reaction earlier. After everything, there was no way the house would give her any comfort. It would only serve as a constant reminder of what she didn't have, and could never get back.
"Sleep in the RV?" He offered.
Relief washed over her eyes, only for a moment before becoming anxious again.
"What? Ya think I'm stayin' in here? Think I kicked ya out to the RV ta take yer bed?"
Her lips pressed together tightly, holding back a smile.
Daryl shook his head, "place stinks, ain't stayin' in here. And after yesterday ya ain't sleepin' out there alone."
Toby and Daryl joined the others. Rick was showing off the food they'd found, they'd found enough to just about fill his bag. But nothing more. They'd revealed the houses they ransacked were either stripped clean or torn apart.
Tyreese had been hanging back, silent. Though others showed the relief and even joy at the food, he didn't react.
Rick shared about their day, going door to door, finding their next destination for the night. The next house they went to they would rest the night and scavenge from that area, doing the town in patches. They encountered a herd, about thirty Walkers that seemed to be circling the area.
"There was some fire we think about a whole block of houses, gone."
"Little more than that," Tyreese mumbled, his head low.
"Are you all right?" Lori asked him, he'd been quiet until then.
Sasha shook her head, "she lived there."
"We didn't even bother looking around over there," T-Dog said.
"Oh, Ty," Lori exclaimed with sympathy.
"It's alright," He lifted his head, forcing a small smile. "It's okay, it really is. We both knew, from the minute we started this trip, it was unlikely. I still wish for a better outcome, but . . . this is how things are, how everything is now. This new world is full of loss and complications, I've accepted that."
"It can't last forever," T-Dog said confidently.
Sasha placed a hand on her brother's shoulder, "when we were with our group before we would just wander. Find different places to stay for a while, we mostly just walked, that worked for us for a while, until we started running low on food. We were just going in circles, no plans, no ideas, no hope. No one had anywhere else to go or other family."
"This was our attempt at a plan," Tyreese continued. "And just having that, a plan, a destination made a world of difference. It gave us something to think about, something to focus on. Something to put hope into. I wasn't going to find her, but maybe we would find something else, food, better shelter, anything."
"What happened to them?" Carl asked, "the people you were with before."
Tyreese shared a glance with his sister before responding, "not today."
Toby stayed with Daryl as he ate, he shared a bit with her and she ate without complaint. When they were done, he grabbed her bag from where he'd left it, handed it to her before leaving the house.
Toby walked ahead of him out the door, moving at a quick place to get out of the house and away from the others. Daryl slowed down when he saw T-Dog, who was walking toward him with his sleeping bag under his arm.
T-Dog only briefly eyes Daryl before walking passed him. Daryl stopped, watching T-Dog go.
"T?"
T-Dog stopped, hesitated before rotating his body halfway as he stood at the top of the stairs on the porch. His eyes stayed down. "Yeah?"
"I, uh," Daryl gnawed on his nail anxiously, he hated this part. He didn't know what to say, well, actually he did. But he still hated it, it felt so awkward and weird, not to mention it seemed forced. But he spat it out because he knew, it had to be said. "M'sorry, bout all that . . . last night."
T-Dog kept quiet, so Daryl went on, "I was-"
"-You're a real grade-A asshole, you know that?" T-Dog had lifted his head, giving eye contact.
Daryl gave a tiny nod, breaking the eye contact.
"You're not him, you're not your brother," he went on. "You're better than that, so I don't know why you put all this effort into proving otherwise. That kid looks to you, and you act like it's this horrible thing. Don't spoil it." T-Dog turned around, walking to the front door.
"Wait," Daryl stopped him, he wanted to say something more but wasn't sure what. Though T-Dog spoke again before he could contemplate too much.
"We're good, man." He said, opening the door as he let out a cough.
Daryl watched him go, the cough catching his attention for a brief second before pushing it from his thoughts.
Daryl turned to see that Toby was gone. The paranoia started right away, Daryl tried to ignore it, sure he was overreacting, he was still worked up from the night before. Even so, he took off for the RV faster than he would have otherwise. Toby was sitting on the couch.
"You got the bed, I got the couch," he told her. "Better if I'm close to the door."
Toby eyed him as if to make sure, but she knew there was no point in arguing.
Early the next day, the sun was hiding behind some very thick clouds, making the morning cold and damp.
Toby was standing in front of the RV, staring at her old home. The group was packing up, making sure they'd gotten everything. With Toby's permission, they kept the guns and ammo they found.
They left the heroin.
Toby was in her very noisy silver coat, with Merle's jacket over top. Daryl gave it to her after they woke up, noticing how cold the day was. With the size of Merle's coat, it easily fit over the other. Toby was glad for the long sleeves as they shielded her hands from the wind.
Daryl was walking toward her, he'd just left the house. As he walked he hid his hand behind his leg, trying to hide what he was holding without it being obvious. Toby didn't notice, she was still staring at her home.
"Ya warm 'nough?" Daryl asked her.
She nodded, her abdomen was warm, but her feet, face, and hands were very cold. She didn't bother complaining.
"Thought maybe, uh, thought ya might want this." Daryl showed her the bright yellow plush duck in his hands. "Just collectin' dust otherwise."
Toby reached for the animal, taking it and eyeing it carefully.
"That thing come with a story?" He caught the ghost of a smile that barely escaped her lips.
"Daddy got him for me so I'd shut up."
"He what now?"
"I saw him at a store, I was really little. When I saw him I kept . . ." Her face turned a slight pink in embarrassment. "I quacked."
"You what?"
Toby shook her head.
"No, tell me. Say that again. You quacked?" He smiled, trying not to laugh at her.
"I quacked around the whole store and wouldn't stop. Daddy bought him ta shut me up."
Daryl laughed, "tryin' ta imagine ya like that."
"Like what?"
"Noisy, loud, dancin' 'round like a bird," he was still laughing.
"Stop!"
"Ya name it?"
Toby shook her head looking away.
"Oh, now I gotta know."
"No."
"Tell me."
"I was like three," she pleaded.
Daryl stared her down.
Toby mumbled the name, refusing to look at him.
"Speak up." He crossed his arms, pretending to be serious.
"Count Quackula."
Daryl put the back of his hand over his mouth, shaking his head as he hid his smile, "no way, that's just . . . that's awful. That's so bad. Just for that I'm takin' it back." Daryl reached for it, Toby jumped backward, in protest.
"No!"
"Ya don't deserve that thing after that."
"Everyone ready to go?" Rick asked, Daryl turned to him, giving him a nod. When Daryl looked back Toby was walking away, about to climb into the RV.
"Hey," he stopped her, "ya good?"
Toby paused her movements but looked down, keeping her head low as Rick walked passed her. Daryl sighed, he'd noticed it a lot in the last few months, she'd retreat whenever Rick got near. There were days she refused to look at him, and other days she wouldn't stop glaring at him.
When Rick was out of sight she nodded at Daryl, before looking behind him at her house again.
"Ya ready?"
"Yeah," She went into the RV with the duck in her hand.
Daryl watched her go in. After a few minutes, they were all loaded up and ready to go. When they turned the RV around and began driving down the road, Toby didn't even look out the window.
Two days after leaving Toby's home, the group was searching the houses. The RV was parked on the road, and they were getting ready to move further into town.
"Well, it's not great," T-Dog commented, holding a couple of cans of food in his hands.
"It's not horrible," Rick said.
"It's a miracle we're findin' anythin'," Daryl mumbled turning away. He'd heard the Walkers before he saw them, holding his crossbow up he started toward them, it was only four in the street, he could take them.
"I'll help," Sasha came up from behind him with her shovel. Daryl gave her a nod and together they started taking out the corpses.
After Daryl pierced his second corpse with a bolt, he heard Sasha call his name. He grabbed another bolt to load his crossbow, expecting one of the dead to have a hold of the woman. Except when he looked at her, she didn't seem to need help, one corpse was close to her but she was only backing away. If she had swung her weapon quick enough she could take them both out, but she only stepped back.
Daryl loaded his weapon and shot the further one, not seeing she was in distress. Then she finally swung her shovel hard, hitting the Walking in the head and knocking it down. The blow hadn't killed it, though it was stunned. Instead of swinging the shovel again to kill it, she only stepped back again and looked at Daryl, her expression concerned and unsure.
Daryl hurried over to the corpse, putting his boot to its chest to hold it down while he loaded the crossbow again.
"Daryl . . ." she said his name again, "it's . . ."
Daryl examined her expression again, he was confused, waiting for her to continue. He glanced at the corpse again. The corpse had been a woman, the hair was blonde and matted. One of the legs had been torn and chewed to the bone. He noticed it then, the colour of the woman's jacket, and how fresh the wound looked, she hadn't even begun rotting yet.
"This her?" He asked, he'd never seen the woman's face, only her back as she'd run off.
When Sasha didn't answer he looked back at her. Sasha nodded. "Where's Toby?"
"I saw her with Carl."
"Go grab her."
"What?"
"Get the kid over here."
"But why-"
"-Do it." He said, glaring down at the corpse. It was fresh, well as fresh as a corpse could be. Its movements weren't slowed down by rot as most were, it was fast with erratic movement, fighting to get up, or to at least take a bit out of his leg. The corpse reached up, clawing and hitting his leg. Daryl wasn't worried, only colder days he wore two layers of jeans, both as a type of armour and for warmth.
He listened as Sasha walked away, calling for Toby. A few moments later, he heard footsteps coming toward him. He turned, keeping his right leg firmly planted on the Walker's chest.
"This her?"
Toby looked at him, obviously confused. When she looked down at the corpse her eyes widened before she nodded slowly.
Daryl pulled his hunting knife from his belt, handing it to Toby. She only stared at it.
"End it," he told her.
"Daryl," Sasha exclaimed, "you can't expect her to-"
"-ta what? Kill a Walker? She knows how, does it all the time now."
"This is different," Sasha argued.
"It ain't. This thing is dead, she ain't, same as the rest. No different." Daryl looked back at Toby again, "it's just a thing, a dead stupid thing. You survived it when it was breathin' ya can survive it when it's dead. If yer smart it can't hurt ya. So don't let it."
Toby reached out, taking the knife from his hand.
"Toby, you don't have to-"
"-yeah, she does." Daryl cut her off. "Back off. End it, girl. Ready?"
Toby held the knife up, nodding.
Daryl stepped off the corpse, Sasha yelled in protest as the Walker quickly pushed itself up. Toby quickly kicked it in the chest, forcing it backward, then she put her foot where Daryl held his seconds before.
The Walker reached up with it's arms, about to try clawing at her leg. But Toby shoved the brain into its skull before it touched her.
"Good," he told her as she stepped back. "Ya did good, let's get the fuck outta here." Unsure of what to do, Daryl patted her shoulder before she handed the knife back.
"You didn't have to make her do that," Sasha whispered to Daryl.
"Didn't make her do nothin'. Kid's gotta know, she's got control s'long as she takes it. That bitch coulda fuckin' killed her, she didn't. Ran off and got what was comin' ta her. Kid finished it off, not just the Walker, just all a' that shit. It's done 'cause that bitch is dead, Toby isn't."
Sasha frown and looked away from him. The three strode back to the RV, Toby a few feet pretending that she didn't hear.
Here it is! Sorry for the delay I meant to finish quicker, but I've been really sick lately, even got the week off school. So i've been dying lol. Had a pretty shitty day yesterday or I would've finished. it was my birthday! starting to feel so old now. but my family just used the day as an excuse to fight it seems... so its been a real shit week. finishing this today made me feel a bit better at least, i feel accomplished.
So since I've been homesick been playing my fiance's PS4, trying to get all the trophies for The Last of Us. such a great game, can't wait for Part 2! I'm stuck on the multiplayer trophies, taking forever. Any Last of Us players out here? Would love to have a gaming buddy to kick some ass and get these goddamn trophies. Send me a PM we'll swap gamertags.
and thank you for all the reviews last chapter, they all meant a lot and were very helpful.
let me know what you think of this!
PS . . . who's ready for the prison ? :)
I know I am