New Meanings To Old Words: Love
Ladies and Gents, please return your tray tables and seat backs to their upright positions…as we will be coming in for a landing soon!
That's right, Greene Farm, here we come...
As always, read, review and most of all enjoy!
~Michelle (SWW -switched it up on y'all !)
Disclaimer: I own nothing, except Callie and the crew of misfits (Danny, Miles, Jenna, Mike, Nina, Ben and Gracie).
Chapter 13: A Bridge Over Troubled Waters
Do you believe in the wrath of God?
The woods blurred by in Callie's peripheral vision as she ran, her eyes glued to the back of Shane's form in front of her. A form that was barely a spec in her vision now as he forged further and further ahead. Breath left her lungs in deep painful gasps, and her legs burned as she worked to keep up with the men running a head of her.
This is his punishment for it. This is penance.
Carol's words from earlier echoed in Callie's head as she ran. She was falling behind, and she knew it, but it really couldn't be helped. When she, Miles and Jenna had rushed into that little clearing where they'd left Rick, Shane and Carl the sight they'd been met with had buckled Callie's knees. She'd fallen to her knees right then and there at the sight of Rick's blood covered hands hovering over the still form of Carl as he lay on the ground. Miles too had been frozen by shock, but at seeing Shane brandishing his gun against a large man with a rifle the boy had sprung into action.
She didn't move to stop the boy, her eyes had been glued to Rick as he worked to both hold his son and apply pressure to his wound. Jenna had fallen beside her, the girl's wounds and utter exhaustion mixing with the horrific sight. The poor thing was hyperventilating and rocking on the ground near the little creek, and still Callie couldn't move. Callie didn't remember getting to her feet and moving, but she did at some point.
She'd stumbled over that creek and settled her hands atop Rick's on Carl's little body, and met the man's shocked eyes. Shocked. It seemed like too small a word to describe the emotions that had fluttered over Rick's face in just those few seconds that their eyes had met. Despair. Grief. Fear. Guilt. Helplessness. They were all there, and Rick's mouth moved with an effort to tell Callie what happened. But like her no actual words seemed to be able to make it out through the jumbled mess in his head.
The sounds of a struggle reached Callie's ears at that point, and her eyes left Rick's to look up at where Shane was manhandling the man who had apparently shot Carl. The larger man's eyes were stricken with the same sort of look that Rick's held. Shock. Grief. Fear. Guilt. It was all there. The man wasn't even paying attention to the gun that Shane had shoved against his head, or the one that Miles was brandishing in an effort to back up Shane.
Callie watched as Miles shifted his confused and scared eyes from the newcomer, to Carl's body, to Shane, and then to her and Rick. His feet fidgeted beneath him as he danced in agitation on the leaves and sticks below his feet. It was clear in that moment that the boy didn't know what to do, didn't know what he should be doing. His finger was itching on the trigger of his gun and his eyes were wide with indecision as his gaze yet again rocketed from person to person.
It was at that point that Callie's ears yet again began to pick up the sounds around her. That point that she took in everything that was going on around her and woke the fuck up. That point that she realized that if someone didn't grab hold of this situation fast, another mistake was going to be made.
Suddenly her mind crashed back into reality and she was able to breathe again.
Gasping at the almost sudden feel of Carl's warm blood on her reawakened senses and Rick's fingers pressing into his son's body below hers Callie blinked twice. The sounds of Rick's gut-wrenching repetitive 'oh God' and his stilted gasping breaths forced her attention to the man. His body was rocking as he sat on his knees, his mouth moving in semi-silent pleas, eyes wide as shock threatened to take over his entire body. Carl's body lay between them, unmoving and Callie ventured a glance down at their bloody entwined hands over the boys bleeding torso.
"I didn't even," a new voice filtered in through the rush of blood between Callie's ears and she was shifting her attention over her shoulder and up to the large man with a rifle held limply in his hands. "I didn't see him," the man's eyes slipped and met Callie's for a brief second, before they flew to Shane and then Miles both brandishing guns at him. That was the point where he apparently woke from his own daze, because he backed up a step. Which caused Shane and Miles to lift their guns and shout.
"Don't you fuckin' move," Shane yelled his eyes wide with fury. His hate-filled gaze was directed solely on the man who had shot Carl. And Callie could see, without a shadow of doubt, that Shane was going to pull that trigger. Accident or not. He was ready to pull that trigger. "Don't you fuckin' move you son of a -"
"Shane," Callie's voice rang out, raspy with the force of tears that she hadn't even realized she was crying. She shook her head and cleared her throat, her fingers still pressing hard into Rick's below hers, trying to offer him some kind of comfort. The slick warm feel of Carl's blood on her hands was rolling through her stomach and she felt the nausea threatening to spill. She swallowed the thick lump of bile that had risen in her throat and closed her eyes for one moment to collect herself.
"I didn't mean to," the man was saying. And Callie could tell that his words and his shock at the entire situation were completely sincere; the man's voice only seemed to further enrage Shane. Shane pushed forward his gun yet again raised at the man's head, but Callie finally gathered her wits enough to stop him.
"Shane!" Callie's voice was strong; stronger than she would have ever expected it to be in this situation, and it made the former deputy turn to her with wide unblinking eyes. Shock, it was taking over Shane as well, causing the muscles of his forearms to ripple with the effort of holding his gun on the man who'd shot Carl. "Shane," Callie said in a much calmer tone, her eyes skipping to Miles who was staring at the newcomer, his gun shaking in an almost uncontrolled manner. A dangerously shaking finger on that trigger. "Shane, cool down." She watched Shane's eyes widen in anger. Anger directed at her for apparently taking the newcomers side over his. She shook her head. "Shooting him is not going to help Carl."
Shane's wide eyes slipped back to the hunter who was now focusing between Shane and Callie, his eyes sliding over each of them before landing on Carl.
"Shane," Callie said quietly getting the man to again look at her. "Shane. Miles," the boy's name sparked a look of confusion to slide over Shane's face, but as he turned to look at the boy that was the point where he finally woke the fuck up.
Shane shakily lowered his gun, and held his gaze on Miles' form. The boy was still sliding his eyes between the different players, wide unblinking eyes that held a terror that Callie had honestly never seen before. Miles' entire body was lifting and falling with the force of each breath he took. Shane speared the hunter with a glare before walking away from him and slowly making his way to Miles. Shane held one hand out in soothing supplication, while the other held his gun out from his body, showing that they were no longer needed. Miles' eyes skipped to Shane's and Callie saw the boy swallow as Shane lowered his hand over Miles's on his gun.
As Callie watched Shane's mouth move, his words nothing but a whisper only meant for the boy he was trying to calm. She watched Shane nod slowly, as he pressed down on Miles' gun, the boy's broken left hand falling to his side. Shane kept his hand on the gun that Miles still held, his mouth still moving in those whispered words, and Callie turned her attention back to Rick and Carl. She heard the rustle of steps behind her but didn't pay it any mind as she worked to get Rick's attention off of Carl's body.
"Oh God," Rick was saying, his breathing coming out in harsh pants as if he'd run six marathons. "Oh God. No."
"Rick, look at me," Callie said quietly dipping her head a bit to try and catch his eyes.
"I didn't," the other man's voice settled over Callie's shoulder and she realized at that point that he had made that rustling sound. She lifted her gaze and surprisingly so did Rick, catching the sheer look of grief and panic on the man's pale stubble covered face. "I'm so sorry- I didn't."
"Where did you come from?" Callie asked a bit more harshly than she'd been planning. His eyes skipped to her, confusion giving way to a strange all encompassing moment of clarity that had the man's eyes going wide.
"A farm," the man said, his head nodding now as he spoke, his eyes still on Carl's body. "A farm. A couple of miles back," he looked over his shoulder and then back at Callie, hope clear in his eyes. "There are people there who can help. Hershel, he's a doctor."
Callie swallowed and let her eyes slip over to Shane who was holding Miles by both shoulders, and still talking to the boy who was now staring at Carl. Her eyes slipped to the tired and wounded Jenna sitting on the ground still on the other side of that little creek. Her exhausted, glassy hazel eyes staring at Carl but also shooting around them. No doubt worried about the Walkers that were hiding in the forest around them. The smell of fresh blood stung Callie's nose as Jenna met her eyes.
Sliding her gaze from the girl she looked again to Rick, who was staring at the hunter who had accidentally shot his son. He was still trying to process what the man said, his body no longer rocking, but his fingers below hers were twitching with a nervous sort of frantic energy. Callie grasped his hands with hers, Carl's blood squishing between their fingers in a warm rush as she tightened her grip to what should have been a painful level. The pressure worked and Rick's wide scared eyes fell back down to hers.
"Rick," Callie said in as calm a voice as she could. She shook her head when her voice cracked under the pressure. Deep breath in. "Rick, we need to get Carl to that farm." Rick's mouth closed and she saw him swallow hard as he tried to bring himself back under control. "Rick," Callie clenched his hands tight under hers. "There's no time. You need to get your son to that farm. Now."
Rick's head was nodding, and in a movement faster than any man really should have been able to make, he was on his feet with Carl's seemingly lifeless body awkwardly held in his arms. His gaze settled on Callie still on the ground before sliding to the hunter now pointing behind him.
"How far?" Rick asked in a strangely steady voice as he tightened his hold on Carl in his arms.
"Two miles or so that way," the hunter said in a shaking voice as he continued to point. And without any further question or comment Rick took off in the direction the man pointed. "Greene, the man's name is Hershel Greene!"
The entire scene had played out in only minutes but as Callie ran and her mind replayed each and every aspect over and over it seemed too long. Too long that Carl had laid there on that ground with her and Rick putting pressure to a wound that seemed too horrific a thing to have happened to a boy. Even in this new fucked up world that they lived in.
Shane had looked to Callie, as Rick took off towards the farm. His eyes finally slipping over the creek bed to where the bloody Jenna struggled to get to her feet. The look of shock that had covered his features was instant and his eyes had snapped back to Callie as she got to her feet.
"Go!" Callie waved a hand after the form of Rick disappearing into the woods. "Go! Take Miles and him," she pointed to the man still standing frozen at the head of the dead dear laying on the ground. "I've got her," Callie said working her way towards Jenna. "Go!"
Shane's mouth firmed into a line, as he regarded her with a amount of respect that he hadn't really shown her in a long time. He nodded his head quickly and pushed at the still shocked Miles, and then roughly grabbed for the other man dragging him along. One fleeting look over his shoulder and Shane was pushing Miles and the other man through the woods hot on the heels of the surprisingly fast moving Rick.
Callie had worked her way towards Jenna, and as she kneeled down she saw the pain etched along the features of the girl. Jenna held Callie's gaze for a long time before holding out a hand and nodding for Callie to help her up.
"I can make it," Jenna said with a passion and a force to her voice that had Callie smiling despite everything. "I can make it."
And then they were running, bringing up the rear but still moving faster than either of them had run before. Thoughts rolled through Callie's head at dizzying speeds as she finally lost track of Shane and the larger man, Miles obviously running faster than both older men and further out of her line of sight. The woods blurred by, snagging at her arms and face and she felt Jenna stumble behind her just as they neared the edge of the woods that seemed to open on a large field.
In the distance she could make out what looked to be a white farm house, sitting in the sun like a beacon of hope. Just like that fucking church had earlier that morning. Stopping and helping Jenna to her feet, she let the girl have a moment to catch her breath. Jenna slowly got to her balance on her feet, the one bare foot obviously pained, and as they worked to move forward Callie could tell that Jenna just couldn't run anymore. Sliding her gaze to the house she began to pull Jenna along at a fast-paced walk breaking through the tree line and into the field.
"I'm sorry," Jenna was saying through the panting breaths that she was dragging into her lungs. Callie looked back at the girl and shook her head, pulling the girl to her and hefting her arm over her shoulder to try and take some of the weight off of her injured leg. "I'm sorry."
Just as Callie was opening her mouth to soothe the girl the rapid staccato rhythm of a horse galloping caught both of their attention. Sliding her eyes over her shoulder Callie watched in awe as a figure on a horse disappeared into the forest.
Maggie Greene was not what she considered to be a God-fearing type. While she believe in God's divine nature, and a firm believer that prayer did help in times of need. She was not the type to believe that what was happening in the world now was God's will. No matter how much her father tried to drill the necessity to pray for forgiveness for their apparent wrongs in life, and a cure to the plague set upon them, Maggie still found herself applying logic to a situation where religion seemed to fall short.
Reason stated that this was not a biblical curse. That this was not some vengeance from on-high. That in fact this was simply the end of the world as they knew it, and the beginning of something new. This was their Ice Age, their giant dinosaur-killing meteor, their extinction level event that would usher in a new existence.
An existence in which people ate people in some sick rendition of a horror movie gone wrong.
Standing on the porch of her family's home, her eyes locked on the barn at the far end of the property. Though the distance made it impossible for her to actually hear the sounds held in those wooden walls, her memories of them were potent enough to fill in the blank. Maggie scrunched her face in distaste and heard the door behind her creek just a bit. Turning she saw her younger sister staring at her through the screen.
"It was a gunshot right," Beth asked quietly, her blue eyes wide with fear. Maggie looked at her sister and firmed her lips to a line before nodding her head. "Do you think-"
"I'm sure Otis just caught that deer he'd been goin' on about or something," Maggie said quickly cutting off her sister's worried question. Beth stared at Maggie for a few moments before sliding her eyes out towards the fields. Maggie watched Beth work her bottom lip between her teeth, and shook her head at the girl. "It's fine, Beth," Maggie said quietly, causing her sister's gaze to slip back to her. "Get back inside," Maggie slipped a smile onto her face.
"I wish he would have just taken Jimmy," Beth said quietly lowering her gaze to the wooden bar that crossed in front of the screen door that her fingers were picking at.
"You only wish that, because then you wouldn't be stuck havin' the talk with dad and him in the den," Maggie said with a wide grin. Beth's shocked eyes lifted from their inspection of the screen door. Almost as soon as they met Maggie's the shock gave way to annoyance mixed with a potent anger, an expression she and her sister were all too good at manifesting towards one another. "Now get."
Beth let out an angry sigh and turned on her heel to head back to the awkward atmosphere of her father's den. Good lord, Maggie thought with a shake of her head and a smile cracking her lips. Thoughts of the look on her father's face when he caught Beth and Jimmy in a bit of an awkward situation on the porch last night damn near had her laughing out loud.
Again.
Her laughter at the time she and her father had stumbled upon the two teenagers had helped to diffuse an otherwise volatile situation. And the shared amusement of Patricia as she shook her head and led off the embarrassed Beth, while her husband Otis took charge of the boy before her dad could get a proper hold of himself and his anger, had let the subject drop until this morning.
But, oh that humor and laughter had come back full force when Jimmy was denied the chance to get away and go hunting with Otis in lieu of a nice little chit chat with dad and Patricia in the study. The expression on both teenager's faces had damn near floored Maggie as she worked to help Otis get ready for his trip into the woods. Her father had shot her a fleeting glare over his shoulder, pointing with that authoritative finger of his for her to get, which had ripped another peel of laughter out of her.
Otis had chuckled as he pulled her along into the kitchen, mumbling something about this being a long time coming really. Maggie had nodded her head and continued to chuckle. Honestly, what had her father been expecting to happen when he allowed Jimmy to come and stay with them. The actual level of her father's naiveté sometimes had Maggie's head spinning in all different directions. For a smart man, he was utterly and ridiculously stupid when it came to handling his daughters.
Then again, Maggie's eyes slipped from the now empty corridor behind her screen door and back towards the barn in the distance. She supposed her father didn't really have much of a choice when it came to Jimmy, and him being the good man he was. After all, it wasn't as if Jimmy had anyone to take care of him now.
Maggie worried her bottom lip between her teeth, feeling the sting of tears settle in her eyes.
"Not like Dad has anyone to help him with his stupidity anymore either," Maggie said to herself. A deep breath in and she was crossing her arms over her chest and shaking her head against the tears that yet again threatened to fall.
No matter how her dad liked to impress upon them that this sickness, this plague, this whatever it was, wasn't the end of the world. No matter how many times he said it was for their own good. Maggie couldn't help but hate the world around her.
And hate that barn.
"Maggie," Patricia's voice slid over Maggie's skin and had her again turning towards the screen door, this time her brow raised.
"Y'all done already?" Maggie's brow furrowed a bit, the humored tilt to her lips growing into a full grin as Patricia rolled her eyes and shook her head.
"Dear Lord no," Patricia's eyes popped open in a signal of wonder. "I do believe your father hasn't even really begun to get himself goin'." Patricia raked a hand through her slightly frizzed blonde hair pushing its length off of her shoulders. The older woman's eyes slipped to the field for a moment, taking a deep breath in, and then meeting Maggie's eyes with a slight smile. "Do you mind bringin' us in some coffee?"
"Oh no," Maggie said turning halfway to watch the woman's face etch with a bit of confusion. "I well remember the day my daddy set me down for that talk. Dad's first trip into the land of the birds and bees was cringe-worthy to say the least," Maggie said shaking her head and lifting wide amazed eyes to the woman on the other side of the door. "Lord, it was like he thought I didn't know anything," Maggie said and she watched Patricia try and firm her lips into a straight line to hide her snickering smile. The woman nodded her head a bit in return.
"Yeah, well," Patricia slipped her eyes over her shoulder. "He hasn't not gotten any better. I do believe Jimmy's face has reached an entirely as yet unseen shade of purple. And God, poor Beth." Maggie chuckled and Patricia couldn't help the little laugh that escaped.
"Uh huh," Maggie nodded and let her hands fall from her chest as she turned to go inside. "Exactly, poor Beth. I'm gonna be hearin' all 'bout it from both her and Daddy," She pointed a finger as her other hand reached to open the door. "So I will gladly make you coffee, but there is no way in hell I'm steppin' into that room." Patricia chuckled as Maggie gave a wide eyed grin. "Ya can get your own cup, Patricia. Think of it as just rewards for volunteerin' to help him out."
"I have seen the err of my ways," Patricia said putting her hands up and moving back a step. "I bow to the greater knowledge of the elder Greene daughter."
"Damn straight," Maggie said her chuckle dying her lips as Patricia's eyes again settled out at the field. Maggie shook her head and put her hand to Patricia's shoulder. "It was one shot, Patricia. I'm sure Otis is fine. He probably-"
"Maggie, look," Patricia said pointed over Maggie's shoulder taking Maggie's eyes to the field. "Oh God, is that-" A figure was running through it. No more than a spec in her vision, but the size of it…that wasn't Otis. Maggie flew back onto the porch and grabbed for the pair of binoculars that was settled on the large wooden railing.
Lifting the black plastic to her eyes she squinted through the harsh rays of the sun reflecting along the lush green of the grass. The figure was running, its steps faltering and stumbling as it pushed forward. The sight of the body held tight in its arms had Maggie dropping the binoculars and turning to face Patricia at the door.
"DAD!" Maggie was yelling through the still open door, the sound of her raised voice startling Patricia out of staring at the field. Patricia met Maggie's wide eyes. "Go get Dad."
"Don't you go out there," Patricia said raising a finger. "I mean it young lady. Don't you move," Patricia said with wide eyes. Maggie shook her head but then nodded flinging her hand back at Patricia to move as she yet again raised the binoculars to her eyes.
The figure was getting closer, running full tilt towards them, almost galloping along the grass. She saw the figure, she suspected just from build that it was a man, heft the seemingly lifeless body in his arms. The figure stopped to adjust and Maggie squinted through the binoculars. The body in his arms moved like a rag doll, the limbs shooting out and hanging dead, flopping as the man once again continued to run. It hit her like a ton of bricks as she watched the figure get closer and heard the sound of the screen door opening behind her.
"It's a kid," Maggie muttered, startling as a large rough hand settled upon her shoulders. "Dad," Maggie swallowed at the sight of him holding his rifle and let him guide her behind him. "Dad, it's a man. He's carrying a kid."
"Stay back," Hershel said settling his mouth into a firm line as he nodded at his eldest daughter. "Keep Beth back," Hershel nodded to the door and Maggie nodded once before settling the binoculars on the table near the door and moving to stand just inside the door.
Beth looked at her with wide eyes, Jimmy not far behind her. Maggie spared him a glance and noted with an odd bit of ill-placed humor that his face was indeed a wondrous shade of redish-purple. Embarrassment flooded his face as his eyes met hers, but soon was replaced with fear and worry as they all turned to watch her father and Patricia slip down the steps to meet the man now pushing through the fence and working his way towards them.
"Is he bit?" Hershel asked in a loud clear voice, the question tasting ill on his lips as he slipped his eyes over the form of the seemingly dead boy being cradled in the arms of the man. The man, who Hershel was surprised to see, was wearing a sheriff's uniform. Hershel's eyes narrowed at the man, his clean shaven face distorted in pain and fear as his wide blue eyes hit his.
"Shot," the man's voice came out in a pained gasp as he continued forward. "By your man."
"Otis?" Patricia's voice slipped up to Maggie and she found herself pushing out the door and heading down to them, earning a scathing glare from her father. "Otis did this?"
"It was an accident," the man in uniform said his head shaking from left to right, his eyes shooting over his shoulder. They all looked, and in the distance they saw three more specs of figures approaching, rushing through the fields towards the house. One large figure, stumbling and falling behind, was the familiar form of Otis. "He said to find Hershel. Is that you?"
"Yes," Hershel said, handing off his rifle to Maggie as she settled beside him. He waved his hand towards the house. "Come. Get him inside. Are you injured?"
"No," the man said shaking his head but wincing with the motion. "I'm fine, just please help my boy."
The man's pleading voice tore at Maggie's heart and her brow knit into a pained mask of confusion as she met Patricia's horrified gaze. In an instant they were following her father and this man into the house. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as Maggie listened to her father bark orders. She went to work immediately grabbing his bag, while Patricia helped to settle the boy into the closest downstairs bedroom.
Maggie watched in horror as the man, in what she know saw to be a blood-soaked Sheriff's uniform, paced around pulling at his hair as he handed the life of his son over to a bunch of strangers. Her heart went out to him as she worked to gather her father's supplies and ready an IV.
"Is he alive? Oh God," the man's voice cracked and his legs nearly collapsed under him as Maggie watched her father lean his ear to the boy's chest. Her breath held and she said a prayer and before letting out a ragged breath of relief when her father began to nod his head.
"Son," Hershel was speaking to the man pacing around behind him. The man who kept trying to reach past him to touch his boy. "Son, stay back." Hershel lifted his hands and took the man by both of his forearms holding him away. "What's your name?"
"Rick," the man said taking two deep shuddering breaths. The man, Rick, was obviously entering into shock, his mind beginning to process things at that slowed unreal detached pace. Hershel watched Rick with a wary eye as he pointed a blood covered hand at the boy in the bed. "That's my son. Carl." Two more shuddering breaths and Hershel nodded and let go of Rick's arms.
"Rick, I need you to stay calm and let us work," Hershel said, and Maggie stood in transfixed awe at the way her father so easily slipped into gear. His naiveté and stupidity when it concerned his daughters fell well to the background as his competence as a doctor, even a vet, pushed through in the moment of terror that had filled their peaceful home.
Her heart broke more and more as her father began to dig around in the body of the boy. She wanted to go and help Rick out of the room so he wouldn't have to watch, but she couldn't seem to make her legs work. Suddenly the boy stopped screaming, yet the sound of it seemed to echo through her ears still, as Maggie watched Rick stumble forward his eyes riveted to his now still and silent boy.
"He's passed out," Hershel said lifting his eyes to Rick and then catching his daughter's worried gaze.
"I didn't see him," Otis' strangled voice, harsh and panting from the run, sounded and had Maggie's eyes sliding from the screaming boy. "I didn't even see him." Patricia's hands were on her husband's face as two more ragged looking individuals pushed past them and into the room. "It went clean through the deer." Otis slipped his eyes from Maggie to his wife and shook his head. "I swear, I didn't see him."
"I know," Patricia said with a wave of empathy for her husband and for this man left to worry for the life of his son. "I know."
"It didn't go through clean," Hershel said finally pulling the bullet fragment out. Rick let out a harsh sob of a breath and fell into the arm of his companion. "One down," Hershel took a deep tired breath. "Five more to go."
The dark-haired man who had entered the room had his eyes fixed to the bed, as he worked to hold up Rick as his legs no doubt buckled under the strain of what had happened to his boy. His hand fished for something in his pocket and Maggie watched the dark-haired man gently wipe away the smear of blood that marred Rick's face. His mouth was moving in some sort of whisper of words that she couldn't hear. Rick let him wipe away the blood, his eyes catching on the redness as it seeped in and stained the fabric that the other man held. It was almost as if the sight of that red stained rag reminded Rick that the boy had been bleeding, and that he'd been carrying him. Suddenly Rick's eyes shifted down to his stained shirt and he frantically began to wipe his hands at it.
"S'okay, brother," the dark-haired man was saying quietly as he worked to still Rick's hands. "S'okay, here take this," the dark-haired man gave him the rag and then began to unbutton Rick's stained uniform shirt. Maggie watched in awe as Rick settled down, the soothing tone of the dark-haired man's voice carrying in the room. "You survived it, so will Carl. Ain't no different. He's gonna be fine," the dark-haired man had succeeded in unbuttoning Rick's shirt, and left it loosely hanging around him instead of removing it.
Rick wiped at his blood stained hands, his eyes settling on his son. The dark-haired man let his eyes roam the room, his distrust clear in his eyes when the met Maggie's for a brief second. Then the man was putting his hands to Rick's chest and speaking in hushed tones to him again, his own eyes settling on the boy in the bed.
"This is fuckin' unbelievable," came the voice of the third man, the harsh explicative raising Maggie's brow. She slipped her eyes from Rick and his companion and was somewhat shocked to find that the other man that entered the room wasn't a man at all, but a boy probably close to Beth and Jimmy's age if she had to guess.
The entire group looked distraught, exhausted and for lack of a better term, worse for wear. She stepped closer to the boy and put a hand to his shaking shoulders, unable to stop the urge to comfort him. He turned to face her with confusion and anger marring his blonde brow. He stared for a good couple of seconds before he violently pulled from her grip. Maggie's hand stayed in the air as she watched the boy begin to pace behind the two men, his hands raggedly raking and pulling at his longish waving blonde hair.
"Oh God," Rick was saying again as he looked wild-eyed around the room, his eyes landing on nothing and everything. "Lori doesn't know." He put his hands to his head and pulled at his hair. "My wife doesn't know."
"Where are they?" Maggie said instantly, causing everyone's eyes to fly to her.
"Maggie," her father's voice was a warning tone, one she'd heard many times before. One she'd gotten very good in her twenty-two years of living at ignoring.
"I can take a horse and get her," Maggie continued, effectively ignoring her father and taking a few steps towards the distraught trio. She needed to do something. She couldn't stay here in this room smelling of blood with a dying boy laying on the same bed her step-brother had died on.
"Margaret Anne," Hershel practically seethed out her name between his clenched teeth, and she turned to him wide-eyed.
"No, Daddy. That boy needs his momma," Maggie said pointing a finger and staring down her father. Hershel's jaw tightened, and he held her gaze for a moment before finally letting out a long breath through his nose. She sighed and returned her attention to the men staring at her and the boy glaring at them all. "I know how to take care of myself out there. Now, tell me where I can find your wife."
The dark-haired man stared hard at her, his dark eyes boring into her as if he were trying to gauge her level of trust with that single look. His jaw clenched tight, before he snarled and finally nodded his head. Shifting his eyes around the room he nodded again and began talking.
Callie's legs felt like jelly as she stumbled up the stairs of the beautiful farm house. It was surreal to think that places could still look so beautiful and untouched by evil in this world. Jenna stumbled up beside her, the girl's entire body feeling like a dead weight over her shoulders as Callie struggled to keep the girl upright.
"We're here," Callie said to Jenna, watching the top of Jenna's red head bounce in answer to the statement. "We made it," Callie said letting her eyes search the area of the porch. She stared though the gray screen door into the house and let her eyes again roam around her. It felt odd to just walk in, even if it were the end of the world. But when she heard Rick's muffled voice inside all thoughts of impropriety fled and a sheer sense of panic and need overwhelmed her. "Rick!"
Callie pulled open the screen door and worked herself and Jenna into the house and turned at the sound of voices to look into the living room. She stopped short when her eyes found Rick wasn't talking to Shane or Miles. The eyes of an older gentleman, his white hair long and a bit disheveled met hers. His expression was weary and a bit perturbed if she had to guess, no doubt at Callie's uninvited entrance into his home. The sight of the obviously injured girl that Callie was working to keep from the falling to the ground though sparked an immediate reaction.
"Patricia!" the older man's strong Southern voice bellowed and Callie cringed a bit. Rick was on his feet now, his eyes wide as he turned from where he'd been sitting to face her. His uniform shirt had been removed, leaving him in just his sweat and blood drenched white undershirt.
It took a few seconds for Rick to process what he was seeing, but as soon as he did he was moving forward and putting his arms to Callie and Jenna just as Jenna's legs gave out.
"Jenna!" Rick cried out, his hands helping to lift the girl to her feet. If the man hadn't run full tilt carrying the lifeless body of his son for over two miles, he no doubt would have lifted the younger girl into his arms. But as it was, Rick was utterly and completely exhausted, as they all were, and all three of them simply crumbled to the floor of farm house living room in a rough heap.
"Dear Lord," a woman's voice, Callie ventured a guess this was the bellowed for Patricia, entered the fray and suddenly Callie felt other hands sliding over her sweat drenched arms. The older man and the blonde woman were working to get Jenna and Callie and Rick to their feet.
"Help Jenna," Callie said waving off the assisting hand that had settled under her arm. Her eyes went to Rick, who was staring at Jenna in utter shock and awe, his hands hovering over the younger girl as she was slowly and carefully lifted to her feet by the man and woman.
Rick's eyes then shifted from Jenna to Callie and in a second they were reaching for each other. Rick buried his head into the space where her neck met her shoulder. His arms wrapped around her tight and he held her as he openly began to shudder and cry. Callie's hands lifted, and with no thought to the blood that caked her fingers she held tight to him. She tangled one hand into the back of his head, mindful of the wound there, while the other wrapped around his shoulder and gripped him tight. They remained that way on the floor for a while, and Callie only opened her eyes when she felt the heat of the older man's stare on her.
"Patricia, get Beth and put the girl up in the room down the hall," the older man said on a sigh before settling his squinting gaze fully on where she and Rick were still clutching each other on the floor.
Callie watched the blonde woman and a young blonde girl slowly work a scared looking Jenna towards a hallway. Rick must have sensed Callie's tension in having the girl taken away because he pulled away and put his hands to her face angling her eyes to him.
"It's alright," Rick said nodding. "Hershel," he nodded up at the older man who nodded once when Callie's eyes slid to him. "Hershel's a doctor. He'll check her out." Rick gave her a wavering smile. "You found her-"
"How's Carl," Callie asked, cutting off any other additions he would have made to that statement. Such as 'where's Sophia?' He didn't need to be worrying about that now. She wished her voice sounded stronger, and she licked her lips and waited for an answer. Callie shook her head and watched Rick's face contort into a mask of pain. He lifted his hands from her face and ran both through his hair, pulling hard. She lifted her hands and removed his from his hair and shifted her eyes to Hershel. The doctor.
"Mrs. Grimes," Hershel said on another sigh, his hand idly running over his head as his eyes slipped outside. His brow narrowed as he looked for something outside.
"I'm not—"
"She's not my wife," Rick cut in over top of her as he got slowly to his feet. He held out his hand and helped Callie up, her steps stumbling a bit as her legs threatened to give out. Hershel's brow rose a bit and Rick smiled tightly at her and then sent his gaze to Hershel. "She's part of our group. We were searching for two of our girls who had gotten lost in the woods."
"Rick," Callie said quietly putting her hand to his shoulders as they fell under the weight of everything and squeezing. She shifted her attention to Hershel watching them. "There'll be plenty of time for that later. How's Carl?"
Callie followed behind Hershel, her hand held tightly in Rick's as they walked side-by-side to the room where Carl lay. Callie's hand lifted to her mouth and she squeezed Rick's hand hard at the sight of Carl, shirtless and laying in sheets covered with blood. She took three deep breaths in, and steadied herself as Rick slid his hand out from hers and moved to stand by where Hershel was readying what looked like a transfusion setup.
"He's lost a lot of blood," Hershel said. "The bullet split and tore through his body in multiple locations. I've managed to take out some of the pieces, but he's going to need surgery." Hershel's eyes tilted to a chair and Rick sat, causing Callie's brow to narrow in confusion. "He also needs blood. Luckily Rick is the same type," Hershel said applying the tourniquet to Rick's left arm.
"I'm O negative," Callie said idly, her eyes glued to Carl.
"That's good to know," Hershel said idly tying off the tourniquet and then pushing the needle into Rick's arm.
"You said he needs surgery," Callie said watching Rick's head tilt back on the back of the seat he was in. His eyes were closed as he rubbed at his temple with his right hand, his left held out straight as the blood was slowly drained from it. "How-" Callie's eyes suddenly shot around the room as the quiet of the house hit her hard. "Where's Miles?"
"Your boy I assume? The one with the colorful vocabulary?" Hershel said with one raised brow at her. Callie nodded, yeah, that was definitely her boy. "He went with Otis and your man to retrieve some supplies that we will need to perform the surgery from a triage center not far from here. It was set up by FEMA at one of the local schools."
"He went where?" Callie said incredulously, her eyes skipping to where Rick was now looking at her. "Where is it? I'll go-"
"They'll be okay," Rick said moving to sit up and then pushing back as a wave of dizziness over took him. He shook his head and licked his lips before continuing. "He wasn't takin' no for an answer, Callie. He'll be okay. Shane'll keep him safe." Rick closed his eyes and rubbed at his temple again. "Shane'll come through. He always does."
Callie took a deep breath, the severity of the situation running over her body in a rush of chills. She ran her hands through her hair and when she lowered them she was left staring at her still blood stained fingers, that wave of nausea flowed through her again. Memories of pressing into Carl's abdomen and that rush of warm wet blood coating her fingers. And this time she didn't think she was going to be able to control it. Hershel must have seen her skin go pale, because in an instant his strong hand was at her arm and leading her out of the room. He led her into the kitchen and faced her towards the sink, pushing his hand against the back of her head he tilted her down and turned on the faucet.
"Deep breath in," Hershel's quiet yet forceful voice echoed in her head and Callie followed it's command. "And out. There you go. Again." Callie listened to his voice and the sound of the running water as it hit the sink basin and just when she thought the nausea had passed her eyes settled again on her hands gripping the sink edge in front of her.
Her body heaved and convulsed as she dry heaved the tiny bit of food she had in her stomach. The acrid taste of bile filled her mouth and she spit, and spit, and spit until nothing was left. Another two heaves, with nothing coming up and finally she was done.
"Hands in the water, miss," Hershel's voice boomed over her head and idly she felt herself lifting far enough to stick her bloody hands into the water. The sight of them again had her gagging. "Don't look at them," Hershel ordered and she instantly followed the suggestion. She was amazed, literally amazed when she felt him put a rag to her hands and begin to wipe the blood from them. Callie took in three deep breaths, and then three more before she was able to open her eyes. She slipped her hands over the rag and took it from him, feeling the older man slide back just a bit.
"Thank you," Callie said quietly, her eyes riveted to the counter rather than her hands as she worked to get Carl's blood off of her.
"Callie was it?" Hershel asked in a calm and quiet tone. She nodded her head and listened as he grabbed something from a cabinet. She finished wiping her hands, using the back of the now clean limb to wipe her mouth, just in time to see the man force a glass under the water before he shut it off. "Rinse your mouth, Callie."
Callie did as he said, feeling the cool water cleanse the back of her raw throat and take the taste of the bile away. She spit the water into the sink and then repeated the motion three more times. Her hands were shaking as she settled the cup to the counter beside the sink. She clenched them tight and then slipped her eyes up to where Hershel stood patiently waiting for her to collect herself.
"Sorry," Callie said quietly, wiping her wet hands through her hair. "It's been a rough day," Callie said quietly letting her eyes skip to his and hold. He nodded his head once in response to her extraordinary understatement and let out a shaking chuckle at herself. She took a breath and then clenched her jaw tight as she crossed her arms over her chest, staring at the man who was obviously trying to get a read on her. His eyes slipped to the gun in her waistband and the knife at her thigh, lingering long enough to make Callie feel just a bit uncomfortable. They stood there for a good long while, before a slight clearing of a throat brought both of their attention to the hallway.
"I'm sorry, miss?" the woman's voice, Patricia, called out and Callie and Hershel both turned to face her. She smiled just a bit and then slid her eyes to Hershel. "Your girl," Patricia began and Callie's body stiffened, her hands dropping from their position at her chest to dangle almost lifelessly at her sides.
"Jenna," Callie supplied in a worried tone as she met the other woman's gaze.
"Jenna." Patricia said with a curt nod. "She's refusin' to let us check her out. Says she wants her momma." Callie's brow narrowed and she shifted her eyes to Hershel who was watching her closely. Nodding her head she started towards where Patricia was smiling slightly at the hallway entrance to the dining room. "She's in the room just down the hall there. I'll show you the way." Patricia said. Callie moved to follow the woman but stopped after a few steps.
"Dr. Greene?" Callie said, venturing the guess from what she remembered hearing the man who shot Carl say in the woods. The older man's head titled as his eyes slid to hers. "Please don't let Rick give too much blood. He's got a mild concussion from a fall he took yesterday. On top of that we're all exhausted, and malnourished. If he gives too much," Hershel lifted a hand nodding his head and effectively cutting her off what he already obviously understood. "I'm more than willing to give blood. I'm probably the only other person in our crew who can. Please come and get me if you need me. Don't let that man kill himself for his boy. Because he will."
With that Callie walked beside Patricia, who looked back over her shoulder to share a silent something with the older man. Patricia stopped outside of a closed door and put her hand to the knob, her eyes settled on the ground before her.
"I'm sorry," Patricia said quietly, not taking her hands off of that knob. Callie watched her hand clench on the knob and finally watched the woman lift her eyes up to Callie's face. "I'm so sorry 'bout that boy."
"It was an accident," Callie said quietly, her head shaking even as she said the words. "It was an accident. No one is blaming anyone."
"That man," Patricia continued looking away and then quickly back. "The dark-haired one who left with you r boy," she swallowed and speared Callie with a long lingering look. "He blames Otis. I could see it in his eyes. He blames him."
"He's allowed," Callie said shortly stepping a bit closer to the woman. "He's hurting. He's worried about a boy that is part of the only bit of family he has left in this world. He's allowed to blame him." Patricia let out a long sigh and Callie stepped closer to her, putting a hand to her shoulder. "But whether he blames him or not, Shane is a good man. He'll keep your man safe."
A moment of silence flowed between the two women and finally Patricia let out a long shaking sigh before running her hands through her hair.
"Your girl is curled up in the corner," Patricia said shaking her head. "It looks like she's had quite an ordeal, and her leg seems to be bleedin' pretty bad. We can stitch it up for ya, if you can just get her to calm down long 'nough for us to have Hershel do it." Callie nodded her head as Patricia opened the door to the guest room. "Beth's 'bout her size, I had her go and fetch some clean clothes for her."
"Thank you," Callie said quietly. "Y'all have done so much, in so short a time," she shook her head and let her gaze slip back to where she knew Rick was draining himself dry for Carl. "Thank you so much."
"I'll leave ya for a minute, and be back with the sutures and Hershel," Patricia said quietly, moving so that Callie could enter the room. "Beth'll be back with the clothes. We'll bring some water and rags that you can use to help clean her up."
Callie nodded one final time and stepped into the sun soaked room. She blinked a few times, willing the migraine growing behind her eyes to go away and looked to where Jenna had curled herself in a corner off to the side of the large window opposite the bed.
"Ya know Jen," Callie said quietly as she walked forward. "I know it's been a while, but we usually sit on the furniture in a room."
Jenna didn't move from her spot, didn't even lift her head from where she'd placed it atop her upraised knees. Didn't make a noise to Callie's horrible attempt at humor. God where was Danny when she needed him. Jenna's arms were tightly wrapped around her legs effectively curling herself into a small ball in the corner of the room. Callie continued forward and gave the girl a very small smile as she settled into a crouch before her.
"Jen, honey," Callie reached out and touched Jenna's arm where it wrapped around her leg. Immediate concern marred Callie's brow as she felt the heat of the girl's skin. She hadn't noticed it before, when they were running; her own body so slicked with heat and sweat from the excursion. But now, settled inside and rested Callie could feel the difference like a cold cloth put to a hot pot. She half expected steam to rise from where her fingers touched Jenna's skin. "Jesus, Jenna. You're burning up."
Callie lifted her other hand and worked to peel Jenna's arms from the tight wrap around her legs. Jenna finally let go, allowing Callie to pull her to her feet, and set her on the bed. Callie knelt down in front of Jenna, her hands settled on top of Jenna's as the girl clasped them together tight on her lap.
"I'm so sorry, Callie." Jenna said her teary eyes lifting from her feet to Callie's eyes. "I'm so sorry."
"Jenna we're gonna find Sophia," Callie said smiling just a bit and squeezing the girl's hands. She lifted one hand to brush back Jenna's hands, her fingertips grazing Jenna's feverish forehead. "You don't have anything to be sorry about. We're gonna find her."
Jenna shook her head and Callie trailed her fingers lightly over the large scratch that covered the length of the girl's face. The heat of her fever even reaching through that barest of touches. Dear God the horror that this girl must have gone through in the day she'd been missing. Callie let her gaze slip over the entire form of Jenna, finally reaching her bare right foot. She watched in a sad sort of horror as blood, thick blood, dripped from her foot creating a puddle on the ground between them.
"Let's take a look and see what we're dealing with here, huh?" Callie said, trying to stay nonchalant about the wound. The way it was bleeding, the way it had been bleeding. God, it was a miracle the girl was still on her feet at all, let alone running through the woods. Callie felt her fingers tingle as she began to slowly peel away the fabric of Jenna's jeans were it was stuck to the wound on the back of her leg.
"Callie," Jenna's voice was so quiet that Callie barely heard it as she continued to lift the fabric away. The smell of blood filled her nostrils, and something else. Something she didn't want to place. Something that didn't have a place here in this room. "I'm sorry."
Callie finished lifting the fabric away from the wound and turned Jenna's calf in her hands as carefully as she could. The sight of the wound, and the memory of a very similar wound on another of their group's leg, knocked the wind out of Callie. She fell to the ground, her hands lifting away from the wound and covering her mouth as her eyes began to water and her head began to shake.
Too many times now she'd seen what happened to a person's body when they were scratched by a Walker. Seen the flesh around the wound warp into some sickening thing that couldn't compare to anything she'd ever seen before. Seen the bone peek through as the flesh seemed to melt and pull away from it. The infection spreading so fast, yet so slowly at the same time. Smelt the decay lingering on the wound as this disease ate away the body of the person. Too often had she watched the red flow of blood turn thick and black and pussy.
"No," Callie said through her finger tips. Tears stung her eyes but didn't fall, her breaths hitched a few times despite her effort to control it. Callie felt her head begin to shake slowly at first, but it picked up speed. As if the motion of would shake the world around her and make what she was seeing disappear.
"Callie, I'm so sorry," Jenna said her head shaking, and tears streaking a path down her dirty face. Callie was still staring at the wound on Jenna's leg, her heart thumping a hard erratic beat in her suddenly hollow body. "I'm so sorry. I screwed up. I let it get me."
Neither Callie nor Jenna heard the door open, but the stifled gasp at the sight of the wound on Jenna's leg had both of them turning to the doorway. The young girl, Beth, stood with wide eyes and a hand covering her mouth. The girl's eyes slipped down to Callie's wide ones, her other arm dropping the pile of clothing to the floor.
It was in that fleeting moment of eye contact that Callie realized. No matter how strangely untouched by whatever was plaguing the world this little farm seemed to be, these people had seen this disease first hand before. That girl knew exactly what she was seeing when she looked at the festering wound on Jenna's leg. And Callie knew exactly what was running through that girl's mind when she met her eyes. Their eyes held for one moment longer before the girl made a mad dash away from the door.
"Daddy," Beth's voice rang out through the house. Jenna sobbed into her hands, and Callie's eyes slipped back to her for a moment before she pushed to her feet and followed Beth out the door. She ran as fast as she could, the dizzying effect of what she'd just discovered slowing her movements.
She ran because she needed to. She needed to explain.
Needed to save Jenna from what she'd seen people, seen her own group, try to do to those that were infected. Zero tolerance, as Daryl was so fucking fond of saying.
Callie exited the room and ran down the hall right into the assembled group. Hershel's eyes were hard as he stared at her, holding his daughter's shoulders as the girl cried into his chest. Patricia's eyes scanned over Callie fear and heartfelt sadness in those depths, and a boy Callie hadn't seen before stepped out from the kitchen. The boy's eyes were indifferent, but harshly so as he glared over at her. Callie's eyes skipped back to Hershel's hard stare and held it.
At that point Callie's legs gave out, she recoiled backwards as if she had been hit. Her back collided hard with the wall behind her and she slid to the ground, her hands over her face. Hershel watched the woman crumble to the ground, her body wracked with uncontrolled sobs. Slowly he let go of Beth and handed her over to Patricia as made his way towards the woman on the floor.
Callie started when Hershel's hands settled on her shoulders. Her hands fell from her tear-stained face as she looked up at him through the watery waves of her clouded vision.
"She's infected," Hershel said in so matter-of-fact a tone that it tore another sob from Callie as she worked her head in a jerky manner to nod. Hershel let out a low breath and lowered his head as Callie yet again placed her hands over her face desperate to regain control of herself.
"Dad," another voice echoed into the house, one that Callie hadn't heard before. Hershel's eyes went wide for a moment before he looked down to see Callie dropping her hands from her face. "Dad!"
"My daughter, Maggie. Back with Rick's wife I would suspect," Hershel said quietly to Callie. Callie's mind raced in that moment, and she grabbed for Hershel's shirt pulling the older man close just as he was pulling away. His eyes went wide, his larger hands settling one her still shaking ones; but she didn't give a fuck what he thought about her rough treatment.
Only one thought echoed in her head.
"You can't tell him," Callie said in a harsh whisper, watching Hershel's eyes narrow to slits in confusion. Or anger. She didn't know the man enough to be able to truly tell. "You can't tell him," she slipped her eyes behind him watching as a young woman with short brown hair filtered past her field of vision ushering Lori in front of her, heading towards where Rick was sitting with Carl. "He's got too much on his shoulders. You can't tell him. It'll kill him-"Callie shook her head and pulled again on the man's shirt, bringing Hershel closer to her. "You can't tell him. Please."
Hershel looked at her for a moment before looking away and nodding his head solemnly. He patted one large hand on top of Callie's before lifting it to her shoulder. He squeezed once and she let out a shuddering breath, once again covering her face with her hands.
"Alright," Hershel said quietly. "Alright," he shook her just a bit and Callie's hands dropped from her face. "Gather yourself up now, Callie. Take a moment here and gather yourself up. Now is the time to be strong," Hershel stared into Callie's eyes, holding her steady as she took in deep breath after deep breath. They stayed that way for a moment, Hershel simply staring at her as she breathed. Once he was satisfied that she had herself under control he let his hands fall from her shoulders. Staying in his crouched position he let his hands dangle between his knees, his eyes still locked with her. "Now, can you take care of your girl while I go see to Rick and his wife?"
Callie's mouth opened and he shook his head raising a hand.
"I won't mention a word of your girl's condition," Hershel said quietly his eyes skipping down the hall to the room where Jenna still sat sobbing. "No one will. You have my word on that." Callie took a breath and nodded her head.
"I can take care of her," Callie said quietly, moving to stand up. Hershel moved back and reached a hand down to her. Once on her feet again, Callie felt as though she were being weighted down and her legs threatened to buckle again. Hershel put a hand to her elbow and looked over his shoulder.
"Patricia," Hershel said quietly. "Help Callie with," he looked to Callie. "Jenna was it?" Callie nodded absently as her hand cupped her suddenly dry mouth. "Help her clean her up, and take a look at the wound. I'll be in once I have a chance to explain things to Rick and his wife. We won't be able to do much of anything until Otis and the rest get back."
Patricia slowly stepped up and took Hershel's place at Callie's elbow. The woman's hand gently squeezed Callie's arm and she gave a very fleeting, yet surprisingly warm smile as they began to walk.
"Be gentle with the girl," Hershel said as they walked. "By all accounts she knows what's to come. Soothe her as best you can," Callie turned and stared at the older man as he shook his head and looked back to where both of his daughters and the boy stood now stood. The newly returned daughter, Maggie, stared hard at her father, her mouth opening to say something but closing again as Hershel spoke again. "Remember, she's sick. She needs our help."
His words echoed strangely in Callie's ears as she walked with Patricia back to the room where Jenna was. As her brain slowly began to work, Callie found she could again hear the sounds going on in the house around her. Lori was sobbing in that small room with Rick, over the body of their fallen son. Her gut-wrenching cries filtered into the room where Jenna had slid down to the floor beside the bed.
The girl was sitting in the small pool of her own thickened disease ridden blood her head held in her hands as she sobbed quietly.
Callie firmed her lips, pressing them together so hard that it actually hurt in order to stifle the sobs that she wanted to let fly in this room. The pain grew almost unbearable as her teeth bit down hard on the inside of her lips, and the sounds she held in threatened to fly free. The only thing keeping them in check was the knowledge that Rick and Lori would be able to hear her.
"It'll be okay," Patricia was saying now, causing Callie to watch the woman as she hesitantly worked to help Jenna up to her feet and back onto the bed. "It'll be okay."
The words were hollow and Callie felt them reverberate into her hollow body, before her legs again gave out and she set her knees and stiffened her spine. Her hands lifted to her mouth, shaking fingers working over her dry trembling lips as she watched Patricia pick up the clothes Beth had dropped.
Three deep breaths, Callie-girl.
Callie let that last deep breath out and moved towards Jenna now sitting rocking herself on the bed. It wasn't until Jenna's eyes lifted to Callie's that she forced the smile onto her face. Callie settled herself on the bed and wrapped her arms around Jenna, and the girl instantly settled her face into Callie's chest, working to quiet her own sobs. The words 'I'm sorry' falling from her lips over and over, and stabbing into Callie's heart like a knife.
Patricia looked up at Callie, and put a hand to her knee again giving her that wan smile. Callie nodded her head and let her fingers slide through Jenna's hair.
"It's gonna be okay, Jenna." Callie said quietly into the girl's ear. "You're not alone. I'm here." Callie felt the tears slide down her cheeks as Patricia nodded her head slightly as Callie continued to try and soothe the girl in her arms.
Patricia cut away at the jeans Jenna wore and gave a startled gasp at the sight of more scratches further up her leg. Jenna cried harder, her fingers digging into Callie's arms, and Callie lifted her head placing her chin atop the girl's head. Eyes to the ceiling Callie took a deep breath.
"It's gonna be okay, Jenna." Callie said again. "You're not alone." She said the words that she knew the girl wanted to hear. It was the one thing all of the kids she'd picked up had mentioned fearing the most. Dying alone. "I'm here. I'll take care of you."
When you're weary
Feeling small
When tears are in your eyes
I will dry them all
I'm on your side
When times get rough
And friends just can't be found
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
~A Bridge Over Troubled Water / Simon & Garfunkel
AN: This song for me was apropos, and fit what I feel Carl's being shot has done for the relationships of those close to him… (Rick, Shane and Lori) I feel that may come across more in the next few chapters… but stick by the song choice for this chapter as a fitting end.
We're going to be doing a bit of jumping around in the next few chapters, so I hope I don't lose y'all with how I have this laid out. I know we had Maggie leave and show up back with Lori in this installment, and didn't have her meet up with the rest of the crew…but we're gonna back track a bit in the next chapter to see how that all went down. I'll be sure to try and keep ya on track as much as I can in the beginning notes section so be sure to read…and if you get lost let me know. I'll try and clear it up
Also, for those of you who caught it, YEP-Miles went with Shane and Otis. And yeah, don't worry, there'll be a chapter for that one. EVIL
For those of you who frequent my profile page…for whatever reason…I updated my Twitter handle to my regs one ('cause having two and being all incognito is so for the birds) I've also put up the info for the Soundtrack if you'd like to dig into that. It's got most of the songs used, except for a few that weren't in the spotify library, and some that I didn't use but almost did…
And now for the friendly chatter:
LadyLecter47: yeah..so Jenna's back YAY!-uh, not so yay anymore though huh? I'm super glad you liked Glenn's passing of the buck to Rick, and of course the Daryl talking to the church part (which was seriously one of my favorite parts to write, had me giggling the whole time) Hope I didn't disappoint with this installment. Thanks as always for your review!
Piratejessieswaby: NO OMFG? Wow. Hey, I will do what I can for you in the happy endings portion…however I have to warn you… NO SPOILERS!
TrustInFaith: Short and to the point. LOVE IT. Thanks, and Done *salutes*
DruidArcher: *ducks behind chair* I'm not really gonna give any spoilers…but I think this chapter may have answered your question.
Babeelove: Welcome to the reviews section! I appreciate you taking the time to review and let me know what you're thinking. I am flattered that you think of this little story as one of the best Walking Dead fics out there. I can only hope that my story does not disappoint as we move forward. Thanks again!
AlabastR: Little Miss Writers Block-YOU *points at computer screen* just posted two fuckin' chapters of awesome (reviews are forthcoming don't you worry). So, yeah, if you thought those last couple of chapters were bouncy and had you boinging (yeah I said fuckin' boinging) around from happy to sad to happy to what the fuck to …you get my point. Then shit, girl, buckle up 'cause it's bout to get really bouncy. The Shane situation is going to be hitting a head, the comic stuff will still be there, but it will definitely have a bit of a darker tone, and the sappy moments…their 'bout to become a bit less sappy and a bit more teary. Just sayin' . I'm so happy that I was able to bring back a little bit of the Shane that people seemed to forget about, that was really EXACTLY what I was trying to do. He's such a full character to write, and I'm glad that people seem to be appreciating what I'm doing with him. And finally, if you thought I was evil last chapter, I'm a bit afraid of what you think of me now. Thank you so much for your reviews. You keep me writing (and honestly sane...) THANK YOU!
Cotton Strings: I'm glad that I was able to give you a new view on Rick. He's my honey-bun (Love him lots) and I think that his evolution into RICKTATORSHIP-Rick is very interesting, and I really wanted to explore what could take a man that didn't fight with his wife before the apocalypse and turn him into a man that would kill his best friend because of her (kinda/sorta). Glad you liked it what I did there. The Daryl thinking there is more than Walkers in the woods is kind of my HOLLA! To the awesome deleted scene from Season 2 where they go back to visit the Vatos and find them all dead and executed. But…I do have a plot for this, and as always NO SPOILERS. As for the missing piece in the Jenna/Sophia arc… as far as the church portion…. Its gonna be a few chaps, so hold tight. Thanks as always for your feedback.
Emberka-2012: Yeah, Yay Jenna… and now, we kind of understand her shock a bit more. Thanks as always for your devoted reviews.
PiratesLife: Ummmm…. So this chapter kind of probably answered your question…and I've probably pissed you off thoroughly too. *ducks and hides* Jenna and Miles are my babies and these next couple of chapters are HARD that's all I'm going to say to that. As for the Callie /Daryl and the kids cuteness…I've worked really hard to make it cute, and realistic to MY Daryl. I am flattered that you think I've done a good job with that. I think we're going to see a new side to Daryl as these chapters progress, especially with the JENNA-Bomb I just threw down. As always thank you so much for your feedback!
Sdwafford: Yeah, I have a feeling I'm gonna be getting some shit for Jenna (but I put teasers in so it really shouldn't be that surprising….RIGHT?) I think I would agree with you totally on the fact that the kids have it harder than the adults in this world right now. And as for feelin' bad for Shane, good, that's what I was hoping. Give the man a bit of humanity. And yeah, Callie's a smart cookie. Thank you so much for taking the time to send me your feedback.
Alright, y'all that's all she wrote for now.
See ya next chapter!