This chapter is sort of about Jamie's coping skills- or lack their of. But hey, i'd say she's doing pretty good, since she's lost her family. she gets a little tore up here, though, there's some angst and a little emotional wumph. I totally LOVE the reviews! Some of you guys have been writing, like, essays! Totally awesome, love you all! Hugs! 3
Carl sat, waiting for her, by the guard tower farthest from the fire. He knew she'd come. He'd done some digging about Chelsea- she had heart problems, and had most likely simply died during the night and turned. They were lucky she hadn't made it into the cell block...
He noticed someone approaching through the darkness and nodded when he saw it was Jamie.
"You still have that bottle of Jack Daniels?" she asked, sitting down beside him.
Carl nodded. "Yeah, I do. But first- I wanna talk."
"Go ahead. I'm not in the mood to say much." Jamie said simply.
Carl sighed. "listen- you did the right thing. About Chelsea, and about Lily. The counsel is talking about what to do with Lizzy, someone's going to speak with her..."
"Get to the point, Grimes." Jamie said impatiently.
"I know you're blaming yourself about Lily- but don't- there was nothing you could've done."
"I could've waited it out, seen, given her a chance... She might not have turned."
"She would've turned, Jamie. We all turn- there was no way she wouldn't have, You did the right thing, not letting it get to that point."
"I keep tellin myself that- doesn't help. Can I have the JD now?"
Carl nodded, reaching behind him and pulling out the bottle. "This isn't a solution, you know." he said, meeting her eyes.
"I know. But it'll buy me some time if I get shitfaced drunk- some time to try and sort things out, time to quit remembering that day..."
Carl nodded. "Fine. But I stay with you. I don't want you to drink yourself to death or choke or something." he handed her the bottle and she nodded. "Thanks."
She pulled out the stopper and took a long slug of the dark brown liquid, feeling it burn and coughing at the end.
Carl looked at her, brows furrowed. "You ever drink before?"
She nodded. "Y-ug-Yeah." she said coughing in the middle of the word. "My dad used to give me a sip now and then..."
"How is it?" Carl asked, looking curious.
"Tastes like shit- I'm just in it for the alcohol. Want a sip?" Jamie offered the bottle to him. Carl hesitated. He was supposed to be watching her, making sure she didn't get hurt or drink too much...
"Don't be a pussy, Grimes. It's not like you're designated driver."
Carl took the bottle, taking a small sip and swishing it around in his mouth. He was shocked when it burned and he choked, ending up spitting most of it out. He was left wondering how Jamie had gotten her slug of it down.
Jammie pounded his back, smiling. "Pussy."
"Shut... up..." Carl got out, not wanting to be outmatched. He braced himself and threw back one swallow, two, three... He came up for air, gasping and only coughing a little.
Jamie grinned. "Pretty good."
He handed the bottle back to her, and she threw it back again. Some of the whiskey dribbled down her chin, but she finished her slug, wiping her mouth on her sleeve and passing it back to Carl, who took a sip and passed it to her.
"Feel it kickin' in yet?" Jamie asked.
Carl blinked, nodding. "I.. yeah. Is it s'posed to be getting fuzzy?"
"I- hell, I don't know. I've never been shitfaced. Gimme the bottle."
Carl handed it to her, smiling contentedly when he watched her drink.
"Hey- Jamie. Y'think my mom..."
"She's watchin' us. Makin sure we don't do somethin too stupid." Jamie said, passing him the bottle. Carl nodded, taking another sip.
Daryl expected her to be in the guard tower. He knew she was hurting, she'd spent the day killing walkers and hiding in the tombs, and he'd planned on talking to her when they were alone.
He pulled back the covers of where she normally slept, surprised to see it empty. She was gone? Everyone had left from the fire, headed off to bed by now, it was around eleven at night...
He felt a pang of worry hit him. What if she'd decided to leave, headed to the tombs, done something stupid?
He grabbed his crossbow, praying he wouldn't have to use it, just praying she'd be fine...
"Carl. listen. We need to talk." Rick spoke quietly. His son was in bed, back to him, or so he thought.
"I know you're upset about what Lizzy said to Jamie. But you gave her a black eye, son... you hit her hard. She's not used to fighting, she's from Woodbury... Don't hit her again. Understand?"
The boy said nothing.
"Carl? Carl..." Rick reached out to touch what looked like his son beneath the covers, shocked when he found it was just pillows and blankets wadded up under the covers.
"No..." he hadn't wanted this. He'd done everything he could to save his son, after he'd gunned down that boy in the woods, but maybe it wasn't enough.
He turned. Judith was sleeping peacefully. He pulled out the case from under his bed, threw it opened and pulled out the gun, gingerly touching it. He hadn't wanted to have to use it, had never wanted to touch it again.
He picked it up, though. He might need it, he didn't know where Carl was, what he was doing... The boy might even be outside the fence. That made his heart hammer a little faster as he crept through the silent prison, flashlight in hand but not turned on, not wanting to alarm anyone. Once he got out onto the cement of the yard he flicked the light on, sweeping the light over the concrete anxiously, searching for his son.
He could see a dark shape just outside the rang of his flashlight, and he stared.
"Carl?" he called.
"Rick?" he saw it was Daryl approaching, crossbow loaded.
"What are you doing out here?" Rick asked, momentarily confused.
"Jamie. She ain't in the guard tower, after the day she had today..."
Rick nodded, suddenly putting the pieces together. "Carl's gone, too. You don't think they're together..."
"They'd probably be near the guard towers..." Rick said, suddenly unnerved. He knew Jamie and Carl were good friends, but with what'd happened to Jamie today he wasn't sure how she'd be with Carl, or how his son would handle her.
Daryl said nothing, simply ducking off into the night towards the guard towers, an anxious Rick on his heels.
"So I said, screw spiders. I'm gettin some juice." Jamie was laid, spread-eagle on the cement, staring up at the night sky. Her eyes were dilated, she was looking incoherent
"Mmhm..." Carl said, nodding, dumb...
"What are you two doing here?" Rick asked, staring at Jamie, shocked.
"Oh shit..." Carl spoke, the words dripping of his tongue clumsily as he looked up at the sky. It thundered and rain started to fall. He'd been sitting against the guard tower, now, and it started to rain. "Dammit- the sky's pissing on us, Jamie."
"Damn right it is. Where's the bottle?" Jamie asked, gaze lingering lazily.
Rick recognized the look in their eyes, suddenly. That lazy, intoxicated look... He'd seen it before, when he'd been a sheriff.
"They're drunk." Rick said, looking confused.
"No shit. But where'd they get the booze?" Daryl asked, looking around. He found the bottle of Jack Daniels and nodded to Rick, holding it up.
"They must've found it while they were lost together." he said simply. "Drank it dry. Both of them, probably. Doesn't surprise me Jamie would do it, but Carl..."
"We can hear you, you know."
Both men looked over to see Carl staring at them, eyes narrowed. He was blinking more than usual, a sure sign he was trying to keep his vision in focus, but he still managed to give them both that hard glare he'd perfected after Lori had died.
Rain fell harder, now, the thunder crashed, and Jamie burst into tears.
"They're cryin, Carl... the angels, they'r cryin for Lily, dammit..."
"Jamie..." Daryl went to her now, pulling her into his lap.
"D-Daddy?" she hiccuped between her tears, voice so fragile it broke his heart.
"J-jamie." Carl stuttered. His wet hair clung to his face as the rain kept falling.
"S'gonna be okay, Jamie. Mom... she's watchin us." he lifted his head towards the fence line, and Rick felt his blood run cold.
Jamie just kept crying, and Daryl picked her up, bridal style. Her wet hair trailed after her in the rain, and Daryl, anxious to get her out of the rain and calmed down, ducked off into the night with her, knowing Rick could take care of Carl.
"Jamie! Jamie, don't cry! Jamie!" Carl yelled, reaching after her frantically.
"C'mon. We'll talk about this later." Rick slung the boy's arm over his shoulder, leading his staggering drunk son towards the guard tower. The boy hardly put up much of a fight- he vomited a little in the yard, but Rick managed to get him into bed. He either fell asleep or passed out soon after, Rick wasn't sure which.
Still, he sat up with the boy, making sure he didn't choke on his own vomit. The last thing his son would end up was another teen horror story about the kids who drank too much and some freak accident happened so they never woke up...
"Tell your mother... I love her." Rick said quietly, voice cracking. He wasn't sure if his boy had seen Lori only because of the alcohol or not, but either way, he wanted to be sure Lori knew...
The first thing she was aware of was the fact that she was puking her guts out in the one bathroom cubicle at the base if their guard tower. Her second thought was that someone was holding her hair, which was soaking wet...
"Damn, surprised you didn't pass out, you had that much to drink. You're a lightweight."
She couldn't help but smile when she heard Daryl's voice- she could use a good talk with Daryl. She turned and smiled at him, before turning back and retching, shuddering.
"Not sure if you're awake." Daryl said, looking at her.
"Not even sure you'll remember this. But- no matter what you do- hell, even if you killed someone... I'd still love you." he said the last part quietly, and she finished emptying the contents of her stomach into the toilet. It was nearing 3 AM, now, and she moaned...
"Finished?" he asked. She tried to nod, but failed miserably and her head flopped to the side...
"I'll take that as a yes." Daryl scooped her up, heading or the stairs, before setting her down on the ground.
"You got some damn balls, chugging Jack Daniels on your first alcohol binge." he said, grabbing a rag and wiping her mouth with it.
She groaned.
"Yeah. don't feel so good now, does it?"
"Mmmm..." her eyes fell closed.
"Sleep it off. Probably won't even remember what the hell happened tonight..."
"T-thanks dad..." her tongue felt thick and rubbery, but she got the words out, which was enough. She as exhausted, her stomach as still churning, and she had a killer headache.
She rolled onto her stomach, moaning, burying her face in the closest pillow she could find...
Daryl settled down beside her, rubbing her back.
"Love you too, lightweight."