"Son of a bitch, he got one." Daryl said, and everyone looked up from the breakfast table the next morning to see Mo trot by, a dead mouse hanging out of his mouth.
Maggie wrinkled her nose slightly, though her eyes danced with amusement, and Carl wordlessly watched the old tomcat trot over and drop the kill in front of Jamie's chair, sitting back on his haunches and peering up at her expectantly.
"Good cat." she reached down for the kill, freeing her knife from her belt before slitting the mouse open at the belly and setting it down, where Mo dragged it beneath her chair and began to dig into it.
She looked up at Glenn, shrugging. "You're the one who told me to make a friend."
Glenn sighed, looking down at the cat tearing into his bloody meal beneath her chair. "That's... nit what I meant, exactly." he admitted. "But it's a start."
Rick nodded to them as they finished their breakfast and got ready for the day. "Try to get back before dark. Deanna wants us all to attend the welcoming party."
Daryl nodded as he slung his crossbow over his shoulder, and Carol spoke up from where she'd been standing in the doorway, arms crossed. "And for god sakes, take a shower beforehand."
Daryl's mouth twitched slightly, though he pretended to be lacing his boot so she wouldn't see the way his eyes danced. " Yes 'mam." He grumbled, before straightening up. "You make lunch?"
Carol rolled her eyes. "I gave it to Jamie. It's boiled eggs and venison. Lord knows you'd manage to smash the eggs somehow..."
Glenn hid his smirk behind his hand as he pretended to wipe his nose, and Rick was watching the exchange, amused. Jamie simply rolled her eyes, giving Carl a knowing look while the sheriff's kid struggled not to laugh.
"Want us to look for anything while we're out?" Daryl asked, showing a surprising amount of thoughtfulness.
Carol nodded. "A bar of soap." she said, eying both the grimy hunter and Jamie distastefully.
Carl started laughing and choked on his mouthful of pancake, and Michonne punched him in the shoulder.
"God knows you two will be the death of me. And Jamie, if that cat gets blood on the rug..."
"I know, I know, I gotta clean it." Jamie said, sighing.
Carol smiled, stepping forward and placing a kiss on Jamie forehead, which Jamie promptly tried to scrub off.
"Now get." she said, looking slightly affectionate as she shoved Jamie towards the screen door.
Jamie muttered something inaudible before ducking outside, and Carol gave Daryl a pointed glare. "Try and have her look nice for the party tonight."
Daryl put his hands up defensively. "I ain't gonna be able to get her into a dress, if that's what you're askin'..."
"At least have her scrub down, get the grime off. And behave." Carol said firmly. Daryl smirked. "I make no promises."
"Dad! Get your ass out here!" Jamie called, and Daryl grinned. "Gotta run." he gave her a small smile before the screen door banged shut behind him, and his booted feet were clomping down the porch steps.
"Hold your horses Jamie, I'm comin'."
It was later in the day, near dusk, when Daryl pounded on the bathroom door. "You'd better be clean." he called through the wood.
"I know, damn it!" Jamie hollered back, struggling to pull a comb through her thick chestnut hair as she stood before the mirror, wrapped in a towel.
"You got clean clothes, or i need to go ask Michonne if she got somethin' you can borrow?"
"I got some! Dammit!" she winced as she worked the comb through an annoying knot in her hair, before deciding her shoulder length locks were adequate and grabbing a clean bra, struggling to pull it on as her skin was still slightly damp. She managed to, however, before pulling on a clean pair of underwear, and then the nicest pair of jeans she had- ones with no holes in the knees, and no bloodstains, either. From there, she pulled on a faded red T-shirt, before pulling Daryl's leather vest on over it. She took a breath, surveying herself in the mirror. She looked... nice.
She ducked out of thr bathroom, and Daryl looked up from where he'd been smoothing his clothes. He was wearing a relatively good pair of jeans, and he'd hosed down his boots, as well as putting on his nicest shirt- a long-sleeved vest of dark blue flannel.
He studied her fir a moment, a look of... was that... sadness... on his face?
But he smiled anyways, nodding to her. "Look pretty."
"Don' wanna look pretty." She muttered, tossing her still-damp hair over her shoulder and grabbing her knife from the nightstand, sliding it into her boot.
Daryl frowned slightly, but didn't comment on her choice. After all- there was a knife in his boot, as well. Never could be too careful...
Jamie glanced at herself in the small mirror atop the worn dresser, frowning and tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Daryl shifted uncomfortably, and suddenly, they were lost in the silence.
Daryl finally cleared his throat and spoke. "We should get going... gonna be late..."
Jamie's head whipped around, eyes wide with fear. "I can't fucking do this..."
She completely caught Daryl off guard. He hadn't seen Jamie rattled like this since Joe's group...
"I... I can't. They look at me funny- I'm not like them, and I'm never gonna fit in, so what's the point of pretending? Let's just go- nobody will miss us anyways. Take our stuff and go- they won't care we're gone. We can do it, Dad- please."
Daryl just stared, shocked. He knew Jamie felt different- but he never knew she'd felt like THIS. She was shaking, staring up at him with those teary eyes, begging to be set free, to walk through the gate and descend into the world of blood and grime and hate... It was the only thing she knew, he realized. The only thing she trusted. Besides him. Because she was asking- no, she was begging- him to go with her.
She looked like she was on the edge of shattering, and he did the only thing he could- he stepped forward and pulled her into his arms, and she buried her face in his chest, shoulders shaking as she struggled to hold back tears. She didn't belong here.
"It's gonna be okay." he managed to get out, voice husky as he spoke quietly in her ear. "They might not like you- and you might not trust them. But it'll get easier. You'll learn how to talk to people..."
"I don't WANT to talk to people!" she wrenched herself from his arms. "I wanna go back outside! It was better outside..."
"It wasn't better, Jamie. You were used to it, but it was never good out there." he spoke quietly, voice soft and reassuring. "That's why you wanna go back. It's hard to leave familiar things behind- but sometimes, we gotta. I don't give a shit what them folks think of you. You'll learn, Jamie- how to talk to people, how to deal with them- and even if you can't learn how to socialize with them- you're safer inside the walls. It don't matter if you don't belong. It's a good base, a place that's safe... We gotta try to fit in, at least. What's the point of living if ya don't try?"
He'd stepped forward to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and she looked up at him tearfully.
"Go wash your face. Tonight, we try to fit in... Who knows. Maybe it'll work."
Jamie actually laughed slightly at the thought of Daryl settling down to join the same league as these retirees, but she padded into the bathroom and cleaned up her face anyways.
Daryl grinned at her. "Now c'mon. We'll see if we just might fit in- and if not, fuck 'em. Who needs 'em anyways?" Daryl asked, and Jamie laughed slightly despite herself as Daryl threw an arm around her shoulder as a gesture of reassurance, before they were headed down the porch steps, trooping through the darkness towards the party.
A few of the party-goers looked up when they went in, smiling coyly and trying to appear like they weren't watching them all from the corner of their eyes. Daryl ignored it, however, nodding to Rick across the room and starting towards the table, grabbing two beers and striding over with Jamie at his heels.
Daryl opened one beer, handing it to Jamie. "That's all you get for the night, y'hear? Not a drop more." Daryl turned to Carl. "You get to make sure that's all she has. Got it, sheriff?"
"Yes sir." Carl grinned, giving Daryl a mock salute and chuckling when Jamie socked him in the arm.
Rick and Daryl stepped off to the side to talk, and Jamie quietly took a long drink of beer before nudging Carl, handing him the bottle. Carl gave it a pensive look, before he realized it- Daryl had limited Jamie to one beer a night, and if she'd elected to share it with him, it'd be rude to turn her down. He took a small pull before handing the bottle back to Jamie, who grinned, leaning close to him. "Thought you'd gone soft on me for a minute, Grimes." she admitted, before taking another sip of beer.
People had started to look, however, and whispers were breaking out among the crowd.
"Guess they don't like the fact I let her drink." Daryl said, looking a bit disheartened. Seriously- didn't these people have more important things ti worry about than him letting his girl have one beer?
"Let them. She's old enough to carry a gun, and old enough to drink- they'll just have to get used to it." Daryl said calmly.
Daryl said nothing, simply watching the situation idly as he took a sip of his own beer.
When Deanna made her way out of the crowd and saw Jamie with the beer and frowned, making a move like she was about to say something, Daryl went to move forward.
"I think it's about time we leave..."
"No." Rick stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "Let her say something. They need to understand what she is- what we all are."
Daryl brushed Rick's hand off his shoulder. "I know. But they ain't gonna say anything about it to me. They're gonna say it to Jamie. And I don' wanna put her through that- she already feels too different."
Rick nodded, realizing he was right. He had an obligation to make people understand they were different, THE WORLD was different, now- but Daryl had an obligation to Jamie. Daryl was right- the kids came first.
Deanna had paused in her walk towards Jamie, and Daryl quietly walked over and placed a hand on Jamie's shoulder. "I think it's time we go." he said quietly.
Jamie nodded, looking uncomfortable. She'd noticed the way the adults were looking at her, the way they whispered, and she couldn't figure out why. She hadn't made the connection between their disapproving and her drinking- it was acceptable, to drink, for her.
"It was nice seeing you." she said quietly to Carl, who nodded, looking pained to see her go before she was vaulting over the porch railing, beer still in hand, before falling into step beside Daryl as they walked back towards the house.
"We gave it our best, didn't we?" Daryl asked, and Jamie nodded, not meeting his eyes.
"Hey- it weren't nothing you did, baby girl-"
"They were whispering about me..."
"They ain't used to a girl who knows how to drink. Don' you worry none about it..."
"You two are out late."
They both looked up, surprised, to see Aaron standing on the front porch of the house, smiling at them invitingly. "You head down to the party?"
Daryl nodded, and Jamie simply studied her boots.
"Didn't work out, huh?"
Jamie still said nothing, just nudging the pavement with the toe of her boot.
Daryl nodded. "Gave it our best- just don't fit in, I guess."
Aaron shrugged. "Nothing to be ashamed of. Eric and I aren't exactly wildly accepted either. Surprising, though- you'd think they'd have warmed uo to you after you brought back that deer the other day. You did a nice job leading the biters off." Aaron said, brown eyes serious, as he nodded to Jamie.
"Wasn't anything special- I killed one witha paint can once." she said, eyes brightening at the subject of the undead. That was a conversation she could have.
Aaron loked surprised. "A paint can?"
Daryl grinned, slapping her on the back. "Sure did. Got the thing on it's stomach, bashed it's forehead open on the rim of the can."
"Seems a lot of people underestimate you two..." Aaron said, looking impressed. "Would you like to come in? Eric can't go to the party with his foot, and we've got plenty of spaghetti..."
"Sounds nice. Jamie- you wanna head home, or stay and visit?" Daryl asked, looking down at her quietly.
"Spaghetti?" Jamie asked, looking slightly excited, like a child.
Mark laughed. "Yeah, spaghetti. C'mon in..."
Dinner was oddly silent, as both rednecks assumed mealtimes were solely for eating. Out of all of them, Daryl was the worst eater, using his fingers half the time. Jamie was slightly better, using her fork most of the time, only using the odd hand to help her wind the noodles around the fork occasionally.
Eric exchanged awkward glances with Aaron, who smiled back and shrugged. So what if the two weren't exactly fine diners- they were misfits, like them- meaning they were welcome.
"Think you could try and find a pasta maker, while you're out there? Mrs. Briggs is always going on about making her own pasta, and we're all getting really tired of it. Don't know why she wants one- we have pasta. Almost think she just wants something to talk about..." Eric said good-naturedly, attempting to start a conversation.
He looked slightly surprised when both Daryl and Jamie gave him blank looks, shooting a glance over at Aaron.
"I haven't told them yet." Aaron said by way of explanation.
"Haven't told us what?" Daryl asked, shooting a glance at Jamie cautiously. She was handling the news of not knowing what these two were talking about surprisingly well, as she hadn't even glanced at the knife set on the table or reached for it in the hopes of having a weapon. She seemed naturally at ease around Aaron and Eric- maybe it was because Eric had a broken ankle, or maybe it was because Aaron hadn't lied to them at all since they'd gotten here, or because they were misfits, like them... He honestly didn't know. But he trusted his instinct, and he trusted these two.
"Mind telling us what you're talking 'bout?" Daryl asked.
Aaron and Eric exchanged one last glance before Aaron spoke. "I don't want Eric risking himself outside the walls as a recruiter anymore. That's the reason Deanna hasn't given you a job yet. I've seen you, the way you handle yourself out the fence- I want you to be a recruiter with me."
Daryl nodded, taking the knowledge in.
"It's your decision- you can say no. You're just the most capable I've seen..."
"What do you think, Jamie. You wanna be a recruiter?"
Eric looked shocked slightly, but Aaron shook his head. "I've seen her outside the wall with him- the way she led off half a dozen biters and then some and kept her head. She could come with him."
Eric still looked doubtful. "I..." he turned to Daryl. "You really think she can handle it out there?"
Daryl wordlessly nodded.
"Would Deanna even allow it? She's so young to be outside the walls..."
"It ain't Deanna's decision." Daryl said firmly. "She's my girl. I say what goes. Jamie- you can stay here if you want. Rick would make sure you was taken care of while I was gone..."
Jamie looked at him like he'd grown a third head. "No. I go with you-" she turned to Eric, who was still looking uncertain. "I can do it. 'M strong. Wouldn't have made it this far if I wasn't. Besides- I'm useful. Small enough I can crawl through windows and hide- big enough to fight if I gotta. When do we start?"
Aaron smiled slightly. "I told you she'd be up for it. I was thinking of going out again in a few days. You're gonna need a vehicle, though... Rick told me you had a bike?"
Daryl nodded wordlessly.
Aaron grinned. "Jamie, you mind going to the garage for me? I think you'll like what you see-"
Jamie was already on her feet, bounding into the garage. "No way! Dad- he's got a bike!"
Daryl was already heading after her, and Aaron and Eric exchanged a glance, Aaron planting a peck on his lover's cheek. "That girl is tough as nails, I promise you..."
Eric gave him a small smile. "Glad to know you'll be well looked after. Go on out."
Aaron smiled, giving his lover a lingering glance before heading out to the garage to see Jamie already sifting through the spare parts eagerly as Daryl hesitantly looked at the broken bike.
"Found it on the road." Aaron said, nodding to him. "If you can get it to run- it's yours."
Daryl nodded slowly, as though pondering it for a moment, before he stuck out his hand, which Aaron shook. Daryl's green eyes were serious as they met Aaron's brown ones. "You got yourself some recruiters."