A/N Thanks so much for all the wonderful reviews - please keep them coming! Now after another Rickless week, let's enjoy some time with our sexy sheriff...
Chapter Ten
"We're not safe up here anymore," Andrea exclaims as the group gathers at the campsite, discussing the walker attack after frayed nerves have repaired themselves and hearts are beating normally once again.
Erin sits at the table with Kelly and Jacqui, a bottle of water between her hands with an opened package of saltines at her elbow, ignored after eating only one cracker. Rick stands only a few feet from the table, as if unwilling to put too much distance between the two of them, for which she is grateful. Carl and Sophia sit idly on the ground while Carol and Amy try to distract them with a game of hangman in the dirt.
"We're fine here for now," Shane argues, meeting the blonde woman's eyes and then glancing at the others assembled in the clearing, daring anyone to challenge him.
"Maybe they're running out of food in the city already," Dale says, more in conjecture than defiance.
"That guy didn't come from the city," Rick replies from his position outside the main circle. "From the way he was dressed, he was a hiker, probably got bit walking through the state parkland not far from here.
"Well there could be more like him," Andrea retorts. "I tell you, I would feel a lot safer if I was more comfortable with my dad's gun. I'm not afraid to shoot it, I just don't think I'd hit anything."
"Maybe we should have some target practice for the women. I could probably use some myself," Dale suggests as he adjusts his hat to sit lower over his eyes to shade the sun.
"It's not a bad idea but I'd also advise that nobody goes into the woods without an armed escort at all times," Rick says, looking at Shane for a sign of agreement.
"That's right. No one leaves the camp without protection," Shane agrees but Erin notices the mutinous stare he aims at Rick. "But I don't think we need all the women walking around here with loaded pistols."
"Hell no!" a raspy voice calls out from edge of the woods as Merle and Daryl enter the clearing from their morning hunt. Nikki runs straight to Erin, laying his big furry head on her lap as if he knew her soul needed to be comforted.
"What's goin' on?" Daryl asks Rick, deferring to his leadership as he drops a string of squirrels - and what looks to be a large possum - onto the ground by the fire pit. Erin's unsettled stomach churns at the sight and she looks away quickly.
"A close call with a walker in the woods," Rick summarizes for the hunter. Looking back at Shane, he says, "I'm not saying they need to be armed at all times, but if we do get attacked up here it may help if we are all capable of defending the camp. We have enough guns, might as well teach everyone how to use them."
"I don't know 'bout that. I sure as shit don't wanna get caught in friendly fire from one of these bitches," Merle declares as he moves to stand in solidarity with Shane.
"In your case, it might be not-so friendly fire," Glenn mutters before Rick jumps in.
"Which is exactly why we need to teach them. So there aren't any accidents," Rick argues and Erin watches him glare at the two stubborn chauvinists and then release a frustrated breath when Ed moves closer to the circle, an obstinate glower aimed right at him.
"My wife ain't learnin' to shoot nothin'," the dour man claims, leaving no room for argument before walking over to Carol and grabbing her arm roughly to pull her up from her seat on a thick stump. "C'mon, let's go."
Erin tenses in her own seat, wanting to jump to her friend's defense but she doesn't feel strong enough at the moment to stand up to Ed. Rick meets her eyes and she gives him a pitiful shrug. He nods, knowing how she feels. Next time.
When Carol tells her daughter to come with her after Ed mumbles something about the girl, Sophia says a short goodbye to Carl and walks quickly behind her mother, head down and shoulders slumped, twisting Erin's heart.
"If you ladies want to learn to shoot, I'll teach you myself," Rick says and then turns his attention back to Shane, challenging his partner to try to stop him. Erin sees Shane shake his head slightly but he doesn't say anything to Rick.
"Great. But where are we going to set up a range without ringing the dinner bell for every walker within three miles?" Andrea asks cynically.
"There's plenty of fields round here, Rick. I'll take ya out if ya want and we can pick the best one that's far enough away. I'll help train the girls too," Daryl offers in his quiet, unobtrusive way. God bless that man, Erin thinks with an inward smile.
"The fuck you talkin' 'bout, boy?" Merle snarls as he advances on his younger brother.
"I'm talkin' 'bout defendin' the camp!" Daryl stands up to Merle but only meets his eyes for a millisecond before looking down at the dirt at his brother's feet. "We'll need all the help we can get if we get attacked up here," he finishes with eyes raised as far as Merle's chest before glancing to his right to find Rick standing at his shoulder.
"So you can help us, or you can keep the fuck out of the way," Rick tells the aggravating redneck in no uncertain terms.
"Screw that shit," Merle retorts. "You pussies wanna waste yer time with them ho's, go right ahead. I got better things to do."
Rick takes an aggressive step forward at Merle's choice of words but stops when Daryl puts a hand on his shoulder. Erin has never seen such a weary display of resignation on the hunter's features.
"Just let him go, Rick. He's not…," Daryl pauses, as if unsure of exactly how to defend or explain his brother. "Just let him go," he repeats for lack of justification. "He won't bother us."
After a small lunch of another canned pasta meal, Erin sits on a crate at the water's edge, her pants rolled up in the same fashion as her laundry partners. An assortment of washboards and washtubs cover the beach between her and Kelly and Amy and Carol.
Erin ignores the tendrils of burning pain down her shoulders and arms as she rubs Rick's gray tee shirt against the galvanized slats of the board, happier to clean his clothes than her own, which she'll have to get to eventually. Twisting the garment and squeezing it tightly to wring the water from the fabric, she thinks of Rick driving around the area with Daryl as they search for an ideal spot for gun training. She unfurls the shirt and fights the absurd urge to hold the wet garment against her cheek, wanting to feel closer to him.
She recalls how it had felt to be in his arms when they'd played in the water with Carl; happy, valued… safe. With her thoughts drifting on a current of wet dreams – literally, she vaguely hears one of the girls complaining about menstrual cramps and tries to bring her focus back to the conversation going on around her.
She commiserates with a weak nod, glad that she doesn't experience the normal crampy bloating misery more than once every three or four months; a nice residual from her chemotherapy treatments. Of course she would have preferred to suffer through them every month if it meant she could have a baby. Though in today's circumstances it's probably just as well that she can't. And at least she won't have to worry about birth control if she ever ends up in Rick's bed.
And just like that her thoughts take her right back to the sexy sheriff. God help me.
She shakes her head to dispel the image of his face on her pillow and nearly jumps when Kelly nudges her elbow with the word 'guns' floating on the air between them. "Sorry, what?"
"I said do you have any experience with guns?" Kelly asks.
"Oh, I've never held a gun in my life. I definitely need the training," she replies, leaning back to lay Rick's shirt on the pile of clean, wet clothes in the laundry basket on the beach, ready to be hung up for drying.
"What about you, Kel? Rick must've taught you something," Amy asks.
"Oh yeah. Shane wasn't thrilled about that either now that I recall," Kelly replies. "But Rick wanted me to learn since I lived alone. He got me a Sig 9MM that's been in my bedside drawer for years. I wish I'd thought to bring it with me when we left for the cabin. Who knew?" She shrugs a shoulder with a regretful smirk.
"Carol, you really should learn how to shoot, too," Erin says to the woman on her left as she grabs Rick's uniform pants from the dirty clothes basket. "What if you need to protect Sophia someday?"
Erin watches Carol glance quickly behind her to make sure Ed is still by the car and not within hearing distance of the dangerous conversation. "I can't, Erin. You heard him, he won't let me," she whispers in a strangely defeated, yet practical tone.
The fatalistic attitude in her friend's voice breaks Erin's heart while raising her Scottish dander at the same time. Feeling much stronger than she had been that morning, she digs her heels in and prepares to fight. "Well, too fucking bad. If you want to learn, Carol, you have every right to," she says in a slightly raised voice, not exactly shouting but clearly not trying to keep herself from being overheard. "Rick will help you," she adds in a softer tone, imploring the woman to understand the depth of what she is trying to say about his help.
Before Carol can respond, a large shadow looms over the water in front of them.
"You best shut yer mouth right now, ya hear?" Ed glares at Erin as he nudges Carol's shoulder. "C'mon. They can finish this."
"Fuck you Ed! I don't have to listen to you." Erin retorts as she gets to her feet behind Carol as her friend rises, following in her husband's wake. "And neither does Carol. It's bad enough she can't defend herself against you, give her a chance against the walkers at least."
Ed turns back to Erin with fire in his eyes. "Don't you worry 'bout my wife, you nosey little cooze. I take care of my family as I see fit. Best you remember that," he says with barely restrained fury before turning back to his wife. "Let's go."
"She doesn't have to go with you," Erin calls after the husband and wife as she follows them up the beach. Sensing movement behind her, she turns to find Kelly and Amy right on her heels, their support extremely welcome.
"It's okay, Erin." Carol says meekly over her shoulder as she continues to walk away.
"No, it's not okay, Carol," Erin calls out to her friend, frustrated that she won't let anybody help. "You don't have to listen to him. We can help you."
Ed turns back abruptly. "She don't need no help, 'specially from a uppity bitch like you," he snarls, leaning toward her threateningly. "She knows her place so you just mind yer own before I lose my temper," he finishes before turning back to Carol.
"Don't listen to him, Carol. Let us help you!" Kelly yells, pleading with their friend.
"You can't treat her like that, Ed! Let her think for herself," Amy adds as he leads his wife toward the car.
"You're a fucking coward, Ed!" Erin shouts to the man's back. "Hitting a defenseless woman half your size! Does that make you feel like a man? Is that the only way you can get your dick up?" she challenges, goading the big man as she sets her feet firmly in the sand.
He moved quick as a viper, twisting to face her and swinging his arm up across his body in one fluid strike, the back of his open hand and four thick knuckles connecting with her cheekbone.
She knew it was inevitable but it still caught her off-guard; for the speed of his assault, and for the white hot pain. Lying in the sand where he'd leveled her, her hip stings slightly from landing on a sharp rock, but the pain in her cheek outshines every other nerve ending in her body.
"I told you to shut yer mouth!"
Numbly, Erin hears several voices screaming at Ed, Carol's cries standing out the most as she pulls on her husband's arm.
Shaking her head gingerly to gather her wits, Erin gets a knee beneath her and starts to rise to her feet, praying that Ed doesn't turn his wrath on Carol. Her heart stops when she sees the seriously enraged expression on Ed's face as he draws his hand back to strike his wife. "No!" Erin yells just as a dark figure jumps between herself and the abusive man, pulling his arm back roughly before he can use it to hurt his wife.
In a hazy daze, she watches Rick swing Ed around to land hard on the shore. The deputy yanks his arm, rolling him to his back, and drives a furious fist into the man's jaw, knocking his head to the side.
"Why don't you pick on somebody your own size you fucking prick!" Another blow connects with his nose, sending a spray of blood across the sand. "How does it feel you worthless fuck!" Rick hits the man again and again, hurling his fist against flesh and bone, bruising tissue and tearing cartilage until Shane pulls him off, steadying him with a strong hand to his heaving chest.
Getting face to face with Rick to take his focus away from the bastard on the ground, Erin hears Shane say, "Enough, Rick. That's enough, man. He's done, it's over."
Rick pushes against his friend's palm but without much steam, making it easy for Shane to hold him back. "I'll fucking kill him," Rick swears, flexing his bloody hand as he looks threateningly over his partner's shoulder.
Erin feels a comforting hand on her upper arm and turns to see Daryl peering closely at her throbbing cheek. She glances to the left and notices his truck at the base of the ramp leading down to the beach and is extremely grateful for their timing. She hears a raggedly soggy 'Thucku' murmured through the split lip and loose teeth of the man on the ground and watches Shane round back on Ed.
Grabbing two fistfuls of shirt, Shane pulls Ed a few inches off the sand, bringing them nose to nose. "You touch another woman in this camp and I won't stop him next time. Do you hear me? Do you hear me?" He drops the man roughly to the ground and angrily kicks the thick toe of his boot into the fleshy part of Ed's side, possibly cracking the lowest rib.
Erin sees Kelly and Amy comfort the now hysterical Carol while Ed groans in a miserable heap on the beach, his face a battered mess. She's not sure if her friend is crying because of her husband's suffering or for the years and years of suffering she had endured at his hand. Maybe it's just the overwhelming emotion one feels when finally realizing that they are not alone.
Daryl steps to the side and then Rick is in front of her, holding gentle fingers to her cheek as he examines her face. She winces slightly when he touches her cheekbone and then she is engulfed in his arms, pressed tightly to his chest as he rubs his hands across her back. She wraps her arms around his waist and feels him trembling with adrenaline as he breathes heavily against her hair.
"Are you okay?" he asks against her temple, his arms strong and comforting at her back.
"Yeah, I'm okay," she answers and feels him exhale deeply. He tightens his hold on her and she knows he is comforting himself just as much.