AN: Here we are, another chapter here.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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Saying the car was cramped for five adults and one toddler was an understatement. However, it was running, dependable, and gassed up. It would get them to Woodbury, and the ride wasn't that long. They could make do until they got there.
Carol accepted Sophia from Daryl as soon as she was jammed tightly into the backseat, beside Merle who had decided to ride in the middle with Andrea on his left. There was no need to wrestle with a seatbelt. Daryl wouldn't drive quickly for the very real possibility that Walkers could stumble out into their path. In the front, Hershel sat in the passenger's side seat while Daryl drove.
It wasn't until Carol was settled in that she even leaned up enough to notice that Andrea was huddled into Merle with a bloodied face—and his choice for sitting in the middle was evidently to get his left arm around her and pat her with that hand to comfort her. Carol tensed at the sight of the blood.
"What happened?" She gasped out, her breath catching over the sight of what looked like very evident scratch marks down Andrea's face.
"Relax, Mouse," Merle offered. "Them ain't Walker scratches." He laughed to himself. "And don't go thinkin' I done it neither."
"What happened?" Carol asked again, unsatisfied with Merle's answer.
"Catfight," Daryl offered from the front seat.
"It was a little dispute," Hershel offered with a laugh.
There was, in Carol's opinion, too much joviality surrounding Andrea's injuries. Carol tried to lean to examine Andrea, but her position and the cramped nature of the car wouldn't allow it—especially not with her toddler in her lap.
"Andrea—are you OK? What happened?" Carol asked.
Hershel reached back and offered a handkerchief in Andrea's direction. Andrea sat up enough to take it.
"I'm fine," she offered quietly.
"Tired," Merle said, lifting his hand as much as Andrea's body allowed to pat her. "Took it out of her. Went at that bitch like a true damn hellcat broke loose."
"Went at who?" Carol asked. "What happened?"
She was only just beginning to realize she must have missed a great deal. She'd been packing things, cleaning their cell, and locking things up. She'd spent all morning getting things ready for them to go and helping Hershel to pack up everything that he would need on the trip. She'd come out only just before they'd left, and Daryl had met her with a kiss and had offered her his arm at the prison. He'd said nothing about a fight—and neither had anyone else—while he'd led her down to where the others were waiting for her to load up into the car.
"Lori," Andrea breathed out. She sat up and mopped at her face with the handkerchief that Hershel had given her. "Fucking Lori."
Merle laughed between them. Sophia, at least, was much more interested in balancing on Carol's lap and playing with Hershel between the seats instead of listening to what was being discussed.
"Lori did that to you?" Carol asked.
"Was the damn slap heard 'round the world," Daryl said. He laughed to himself and rolled down his window before he lit a cigarette. Andrea reached her hand up and tapped him, so he passed back the pack and lighter for her to light her own.
"You slapped her?" Carol asked.
Andrea hummed at her while she lit her cigarette and rolled down her own window.
"She slapped me," Andrea said.
"Andrea chucked a fuckin' whole box of canned food at her ass," Daryl said.
Merle snorted and laughed to himself.
"Like taste the motherfuckin' rainbow, bitch," Merle offered.
Hershel laughed and Sophia, thinking that her Papa was amused by her and nothing else in the world, laughed heartily at him with a bit of a put-on laugh for his benefit.
"Then she jumped on her like a spider monkey," Daryl offered.
"Y'all just let this happen?" Carol asked.
"Had to happen," Merle said. "Was bound to happen. Sooner or later. Daryl tried to drag 'em apart, but once they was locked up, it was best to just stand back and let it happen."
"Are you OK?" Carol asked, leaning around Merle to get the best look at Andrea that she could. Merle rubbed Andrea's back with his hand and squeezed her shoulder.
"She's gonna be just fine," Merle said. "Gonna visit the infirmary in Woodbury. Get cleaned up. But—you shoulda seen the other guy."
"Think she mighta broke Lori's nose," Daryl offered.
"It might not have been broken," Hershel said.
"You let it happen, too?" Carol asked, moving to pass Sophia between the seats as Hershel struggled to turn well enough to take the toddler who was determined to ride in the front.
Hershel laughed, perhaps, at her tone of accusation.
"I don't condone violence," Hershel said, "when it can be avoided. I also know, however, that there are times that it cannot be avoided. In those situations, it's simply necessary to step back and let things work themselves out."
"She's coming to Woodbury," Andrea said with a sigh.
Carol's stomach churned a little uncomfortably. She had somewhat hoped that their few months in Woodbury would be an escape from Lori. Maybe, even, it would give Lori the opportunity to do a little soul-searching and maturing as she was faced with running some things at the prison. As it turned out, they were very likely going to be teaching the people of Woodbury how to take care of themselves—since many of them had clearly never learned—while Lori stood by and acted like she'd never been taught, either, how to do more than rely on everyone else.
And, now, it appeared they'd be dealing with the after effects of whatever it was that had happened between Andrea and Lori.
Carol sat back in her seat, not pressing for more information at the moment.
Everything, she knew, would work itself out—it simply had to do just that; work itself out.
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"We'll just mark the rooms," Daryl said. "Then we'll haul everything up here."
Daryl pushed open the door to the apartment and Carol followed him inside. Merle and Andrea had taken an apartment on the floor above them. The ground floor apartments were larger and intended for families. This apartment would belong to Carol and Daryl for the duration of their stay in Woodbury. It could remain theirs, if they wanted it, as something like a vacation home—as long as they vowed to spend some time each year helping Woodbury to grow and thrive. They were doing the same thing at the prison, opening up new cell blocks and cells, to encourage the growth of both communities and true sisterhood between both communities. Eventually, the people of Woodbury had the intention of expanding their walls—just as they did at the prison—and part of that expansion would swallow up a nearby suburb. When that took place, there would be houses open for those with larger family units.
For now, Carol and Daryl would take the apartment with Hershel in tow. The old man's only other option would be to take a place by himself, so they thought it was better that he stayed with family. Beyond that, he was wonderful with Sophia, and they would always welcome having a grandfather close-by.
"Four bedrooms," Daryl said. "Luxury apartment. That's what they said."
Immediately, Carol could believe that. The apartment was already furnished—at least partially—and she didn't know if that was Daryl's doing or if it had simply been furnished beforehand. It didn't matter, really.
The floors were wood. The walls were mostly white. Someone had cleaned the place recently because it smelled clean and the blinds were raised on the windows to let the sun in. The kitchen was just off to the side from the entranceway, and the living room was lovely. It was cozy.
"Is that—fireplace real?" Carol asked.
Daryl put Sophia down and the little girl went running down the hallway toward some of the bedrooms. She was always happy to stretch her legs and explore new spaces.
"Yep," Daryl said. "Wood burning. It's the highlight of this old building. All the apartments have 'em. Share chimneys up on top. That's why I requested this place, specific, after Tyreese told me about it."
Carol smiled to herself. She looked out the window and into the street below. They were on the ground level, and outside people were busy. The trucks they'd brought were pulled directly to the street outside the building. Some things were already being unloaded.
"Help me figure out these rooms," Daryl said. "So I know what'cha got in mind."
Carol walked quickly from room to room. The apartment had two full baths, a kitchen, and a great deal of storage. Of the four bedrooms, she and Daryl quickly identified the master bedroom. Hershel chose one room for himself, leaving two that were close together to be the rooms for Sophia and, eventually, the child they hoped to welcome in the spring.
None of the bedrooms were furnished, but Daryl assured Carol that there was plenty of furniture to be had—they simply had to put in request for what they needed as soon as the trucks were unloaded. Hershel stayed in the apartment with Sophia, and Carol followed Daryl out into the street to start claiming the items that belonged to them as they came off the trucks and were piled up.
Most of what they brought were packed bags and odds and ends. They were easy enough for Carol to carry inside, so she went about moving what she could while Daryl directed those who were unloading the trucks and helped to carry the larger items.
The last item that Daryl had to carry inside was Sophia's bed—since it had never been folded up.
Carol waited on him, in the street, until he returned. While she was waiting, Merle came out the front door of the apartment building and started grabbing for items that she knew belonged to him.
"Where's Andrea?" Carol asked.
Merle hummed at her in question, but he answered her a second later like his inability to answer her at first had come from some kind of mental lag or distraction.
"Down the street at the infirmary," Merle said. "Sent her down once she picked out the bedroom."
"How many bedrooms does your apartment have?" Carol asked. She reached for a few things she knew to be Andrea's to offer a hand.
"Two," Merle said. "That whole floor's got two rooms each. They nice lil' places. She likes the bathtub."
"I want to see it," Carol said.
Merle looked at her like she confused him. He looked at her like he'd never understand her. More than likely, he'd never understand women.
"I don't care if you look at the bathtub, Mouse," Merle said, tucking something under his right arm before he grabbed something else with his left hand. "Not long as you get the door."
They met Daryl on the way inside, and he offered to grab a few things before he followed after them.
Merle and Andrea's apartment was much smaller than Carol and Daryl's, but it was built with the same concept in mind. It was exactly above Carol and Daryl's apartment, and they obviously shared a chimney. There were two bedrooms—one more than Andrea and Merle would really need—and the bathroom was quite large. The oversized bathtub there made it clear to see why Andrea was excited about it.
"Andrea ain't back?" Daryl asked.
"Ain't hardly been gone," Merle said. "I guess—she oughta be comin' back soon. Took some time scrubbin' the dried blood off in the sink with that handkerchief she had and a couple rags she found in the closet. Didn't wanna walk down the street with blood all over her face like that an' scare the shit outta nobody. You can bet to hell Rick's woman didn't scrub all that off her face 'fore she went."
He laughed, clearly amused.
"What were they fighting over?" Carol asked.
Daryl shrugged his shoulders and lit a cigarette. His brother disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a glass that they were both clearly going to use as an ashtray, since Merle also gestured to his brother to give him a cigarette. Daryl gladly did so and lit another for himself.
"They ain't said," Daryl said. "Come out the prison bitchin' at each other. Hit the yard an' Lori slapped the shit outta Andrea. I mean slapped the fuck outta her. Andrea decided she weren't takin' that shit no more. I told you she threw a whole damned box of canned vegetables at Lori 'fore she jumped on her ass and just went to swingin' like she was gonna beat her to death."
"You didn't ask?" Carol asked.
"Hell, Mouse," Merle said with a laugh. "It weren't like it really mattered. Once the fightin' was happening, it was best to just let the shit finish. When we split 'em up, they was both about worn out."
"You'd know better'n we would, anyway, what they got to fight about," Daryl offered.
Carol sighed.
"The question isn't really what they have to fight about—they've been fighting about everything. It's more—what was it that made them start fighting this time."
Carol didn't have much time to think about it before the front door of the apartment creaked open and Andrea came in. She looked back and forth between the three of them before she pocketed the key she was carrying.
"Did I miss all the fun?" She asked.
Her face was showing signs of bruising, and the deep scratches were bandaged over.
"Truck's unloaded all the way around," Merle said. "We was just talkin' about you—about why you was on that woman like white on rice."
Andrea sighed.
"I don't want to talk about it right now," Andrea said.
"You don't gotta," Merle said. "Right now—all you gotta do is figure out what the hell you want around here. We'll all go down an' put in a request for furniture. Then—whenever the hell you feel like it, you can satisfy your lil' friend's curiosity over why you was playin' Whack-A-Mole with that woman's face."
He laughed again, clearly still amused, and abandoned the glass on a table before he waved at Daryl.
"Come on, brother," he said. "Let's go downstairs. We'll meet the women in the street."