Okay. i've made an official decision here, people. I'm going to update at least once every two weeks, minimum, until I run out of chapters to post. I need to prepare you guys... so here it is. I'm not writing past the season four finale, when they're all stuck in the boxcar. Because I want to go along with Kirkman's episode as to how they get out in October. because let's face it, guys- Kirkman is a freaking genius. So the one chapter every two week minimum will help ration chapters for you folks, I'm hoping, until October.
There. Now that that's out of the way, here it is. This chapter has a lot of Carl in it, because, he's awesome. Rick and Daryl have a talk, Daryl reveals more about how he feels about Carol's Banishment... And there's some pretty deep symbolism at the end. Please review, :)
Rick waited up that night, until it was too dark to see. But the two forms never emerged from the darkness.
He watched the treeline, worried but trying not to show it.
Daryl hadn't mentioned staying out overnight with Jamie, and if something had gone wrong, they'd be down two of their best people. Not to mention Jamie was like a niece to him, if not a daughter, and Daryl had become his good friend...
Carl hadn't come inside that night, either. He'd spent the day walking the fence, stabbing the few lurking walkers and staring into the distance at the woods, praying she'd come back...
Even after darkness had fallen, Rick hadn't been able to convince the boy to come back inside. He'd started a small fire instead, and sat himselfdown by the very edges of the fence, staring into the darkness, fire flickering off his blue eyes.
Beth came and kept vigil with him for a time, trying to convince him to come inside. They talked in hushed voices for awhile, Carl shaking his head when she suggested they go back inside.
"I need to be here." he said simply, staring at her seriously.
"Carl, she's probably fine. She's with Daryl, she's tough, she'll be okay..."
"I'm not going inside." he said firmly. "I'll wait for her- she'd do the same for me." and with that being said, he turned around again to face the night, hoping Beth was right.
Rick didn't want to leave the boy, but with all the deaths lately, people needed their leader, needed reassurance. He stayed in the cell block long enough to put Judith to bed, looking at the old, winding watch Hershel had loaned him. He waited one hour, then two, before slipping outside to check on his boy.
Carl had slumped over- it was nearly midnight- the fire had burned out, since he'd been asleep, unable to tend it, and a smoking pile of embers was around him. He'd curled up on his side on the cold concrete, still facing the fence. Rick realized with a pang he'd been looking, even as he lost the battle with sleep, for Jamie.
He laid a frayed blanket over the boy, and his shivering lessened slightly. He ran his fingers through the boy's dirty brown hair, and he stirred but didn't wake.
Quietly, Rick brushed the locks away from his forehead- he'd gotten his dark hair from Lori. He gently kissed the boy's head. He'd never let him do that while he was awake, it would hurt his pride. But while he was asleep, he was still his little boy.
"Goodnight, son." he whispered, before standing and heading inside again, hoping the two hunters would be back by morning.
Carl woke in the morning, finding himself cold, hair wet with the morning's dew. Jamie had told him a story about that, once, that Lily used to think the spites came out at night and painted the dew on the grass...
He looked towards the fence, dread knotting in the pit of her stomach. She wasn't back yet. She hadn't turned up at the fence yet as a walker, but that was only a small consolation.
He sat up, pulling the blanket around himself, looking out at the woods, forlorn. She was out there somewhere...
Rick sat down beside him, setting a styrofoam bowl of oatmeal beside the boy. "Eat." he said simply.
Carl said nothing. Hunger was the last thing he was thinking about now. He could take his gun, some ammo, go out looking for her. Maybe Glenn would come along...
"I said eat." Rick said, a little frustrated, shoving the bowl into Carl's lap. The boy scowled at him and stood, setting his bowl on the table beside Mika. The girl was too skinny, and Jamie had always taken care of her before...
He looked up when he heard a familiar birdcall sounding from the woods.
He didn't dare say her name, afraid of the cruel disappointment he'd face if he'd simply imagined it, but he turned, running for the gate.
He stared at the treeline, seeing Jamie standing there, game bag skung across her shoulders, with Daryl holding a line of squirrels...
Their eyes locked, even from that distance, and he forced the gate open, throwing his full weight against the rope.
As soon as she was inside she'd thrown her arms around him, feeling, for once, normal. Like she'd felt before the flu had killed half their people.
Carl pulled back, holding her at arm's length, eyes searching her nervously.
"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.
She nodded. "'M fine, prince charming." she laughed at his expression at the words, then. Laughter that washed over him like water, eroding away all the rough parts of him, all the fears and things he'd bottled up. Jamie- his Jamie, the girl who could kick his ass anyday- was back. And while he didn't feel as normal as he would've had the circumstances been different, he knew one thing, now that she was here. Things were gonna be okay.
Rick approached Daryl as the man unloaded the bloodstained game bag. They'd killed two woodchucks on the way back, not to mention a few squriells, and overall, it was enough to feed the camp.
"Everything alright?" he asked. Daryl was spattered in grime and walker guts, so he could only assume they'd hit a snag...
"Yeah. Jamie wanted to stay the night out there. Needed to, actually. I got her sorted out with Carol 'nd everthin that went down."
Rick nodded, slightly relieved. "Run into a few walkers out there?"
Daryl nodded. "Seven. Jamie almost got herself killed- she's got her head on straight, now, she knows what went down. You still ain't her favorite person in the world, but give her a few days..."
"I know." Rick said. "I didn't like it, but we couldn't have her here..."
Daryl looked over at him, green eyes inquisitive. "I think we coulda. I think she made a mistake- made the wrong choice. You an' I both know it's so easy to make a wrong choice- 'specially when people's lives are depending on it. I think she made a wrong choice. I understand why you did what you did, though."
Rick nodded. Maybe Carol HAD just made a wrong choice...
"She was tryin' to protect us, you know. All of us. She didn't want the epidemic to happen. She made the wrong choice for the right reasons."
Rick nodded, dumbfounded. He'd had no idea Daryl had read this far into it...
"How's your boy?" Daryl asked.
He'd, once again, caught Rick off guard.
"He's alright. Healing, anyways. It was pretty pretty rough, to be honest- Jamie trapped in cell block A, him trying to keep his head when evrything around him went to shit... He did good, though. Only time I saw him break was when Jamie didn't come home last night. He wouldn't eat. Just sat by the fence looking for her- he even fell asleep in the yard, waiting."
Daryl nodded, looking slightly wary. Finally, he spoke. "I got nothin' wrong with him spending time with her. 'S probably, good, actually, distracts her from everythin' that's happened. But if he hurts her or if either of them take off one thread of clothes..."
"I understand. The last thing I want is either of them to get hurt. Let's face it- they're young and stupid when it comes to relationships." Rick agreed.
"Good. Glad we're on the same page." Daryl said simply, raking his blade down the midsection of a woodchuck. Blood spilled out, coating his rough hands. He looked over- Jamie was walking the fence line, still covered in walker blood and grime, bow still slung over her shoulder.
She didn't seem to notice, though- there was a smile on her face. She and Carl hadn't spoken a word since she'd got back, other than him asking if she was alright and her saying she was fine. They didn't need to.
Carl could see the warm smile she had, her bright eyes- and he knew the Jamie he'd known- the Jamie before the flu outbreak- was back.
She was watching the small smile play on the corner of his lips, as well- they were felling the sweet europhobia of being together again, just knowing they were SAFE- safe from the walkers, from the disease... It was enough. No words were needed.
They simply walked the fenceline, then, staring at ine another, They never broke eyecontact, just smiling, knowing the other was ALIVE, was enough. They didn't even bother to focus on the world outside the fence, so lost they were in the other's eyes.
And then Carl reached over, taking her filthy, blood-crusted hand in his own rough, work-worn one. She looked down, surprised, at seeing their hands intertwined. It'd been so long since they'd held hands. Her hand stood out in stark contact to his- his was smeared in dirt, hers in blood... but it didn't matter. None of it mattered anymore. They were together.
She looked up from where she'd been scrutinizing their hands and smiled, green eyes bright. Carl had a small smile on his face as well, and she realized it, then. Things were looking up.
Well? REVIEWS! :)