Will this thing never end? You feel like you've been here for hours, when in reality it's maybe been thirty minutes since you arrived with Carl and Judith. However long it might have been, you've had enough. And Deanna, she's starting to work your nerves. You feel she's trying to woo you, get you on her side. You're still not sure any of this is a good idea. In fact, after the first few days on the job, and the things you've been told by Abe about what he witnessed today on the construction site, you are more convinced than ever that these people are a liability, and very little else.
You are trying to hold back judgement, though. You still stand by your conviction, which you shared yesterday with Daryl and Carol: You'll try and make this work, and if it doesn't then your group will take this place. You're glancing at your watch. Carol is currently busy sneaking guns out of the storage locker. You almost wish you were the one doing it. Would be more exciting at least than this silly party.
Deanna's husband is trying to catch your eye but you quickly move sideways, try and find someone to talk to. You stand with Glenn and Maggie and let Reg find someone else to bore to death. He's harmless, but he grates. They all do. None of them have any idea what the world is really like now. They talk about food shortage as if it's merely an inconvenience. None of them have seriously had to worry about starving, or see their family go hungry for days, their children so thirsty their lips crack. How will you and your group ever be able to relate to these people?
And where's Daryl? You haven't seen him all day. You woke up to him still sleeping, and you left him there, in your bed. Your bed as in both of yours, cos that's what it already is, in your mind, and you think in his, too. Your room, your bed, that you hope to go back to very soon. And you're more glad than you can express that he seems to feel the same. When you returned to the house late the previous night, after your first proper day as constable (and wasn't that just weird, and felt all wrong, wearing uniform again) he was waiting for you in the living room.
Wordlessly he'd gone over to the staircase and started climbing, and you followed. You know he waited for you to show you where his head is at, that he's fully with you, wants to make a go of this between the two of you, even if he can't say it in so many words.
Your brain has been giving you flashbacks to last night all day long. You can still feel him curled up against you every time you close your eyes for a moment. Sleep has been more restful with him there, in your arms, than you've had in months. He scooted really close last night, his body pressed against yours to such a degree you didn't think you'd be able to sleep at all. But miraculously, it had had the opposite effect, and you woke up in almost the same position you'd fallen asleep in, Daryl in your arms.
You know that's unlikely to continue, him being such a deep sleeper, such a soothing presence. Right now, while he's healing, recovering from the ordeal of the last few months, his body demands the extended periods of rest. But you know that when he's well he's usually up before everyone else, capable of doing a whole day's work before anyone else has even thought of the first cup of coffee.
But you wonder now, as so often recently, whether he wasn't like that because he thought it was expected of him out there, not because it's naturally his inclination. You are determined to make sure that now you have the chance to give him what he needs, what he enjoys, he'll feel less and less that all the heavy lifting is expected of him. And you realize, with a small rueful grin you hope nobody has seen, that your irritation at the fact that he's not here tonight is already in breach of that promise you just made.
As you scan the room again, looking from one little cluster of your people to the next, you notice Jessie and her family have just arrived. You remember the brief conversation you had with her that afternoon, and how her behavior – nervous, cautious, very deliberate in her way of speaking – has done nothing to improve your opinion of her husband Pete. You feel that the way she's been should remind you of something, and that feeling oddly grows stronger as you spot Carol reemerging into the room. She nods at you. Good, she got the guns.
You force a smile now as Jessie approaches with her family. She makes entirely unnecessary introductions and you take Pete and their boys in at a glance. Truth is, though, that you are really only half paying attention now. The fact that Carol has fulfilled her mission means that you are no longer required to distract your hostess if necessary. You are now free to slip away, and you want nothing more desperately now than quit this party, go home, and be with your man.
