New Meanings To Old Words: Love
Just a little something that might just be defined as "fluff" or "sap" but I felt needed to be put out there.
As always, read, review and most of all enjoy!
~michelle
Disclaimer: I own nothing, except Callie and the crew of misfits (Danny, Miles, Jenna, Mike, Nina, Ben and Gracie).
Vignette: Arms
I never thought that you would be the one to hold my heart
But you came around and you knocked me off the ground from the start
You put your arms around me
And I believe that it's easier for you to let me go
You put your arms around me and I'm home
Miles shifted a bit uncomfortably on the lumpy cushion of the wingback chair in Jenna's room. His right hand was playing with the odd bandage job that Dr. Greene had done on his wrist. The plaster cast removed and forgotten, and in its place a makeshift splint made from a few broken shims gathered by his daughter Maggie. The new contraption wasn't nearly as comfortable or supportive as the plaster one that Wallace had applied at the CDC, but it was better than nothing.
And as Dr. Greene, or Hershel-as the elder man asked Miles to call him after the tenth 'sorry Dr. Greene' that had left his muttering mouth, had pointed out-the new bandage job while uncomfortable, would at least ensure that the bones healed properly.
Not that Miles had really given a flyin' fuck about that at the time. He had just been damn glad that it had been Hershel working on his wrist rather than Otis' wife Patricia. The grieving woman had settled him at the dining table, but was then quickly ushered off by Maggie. Which sent an almost overwhelming sort of relief coursing through him. Then Maggie had shifted a look at him over her shoulder and he stared at her in wide-eyed fuckin' awe when she cracked a tiny grin and whispered that it was okay.
Okay. Fuckin' okay.
Jesus, at least he had the pain in his hand to focus on instead of all the shit that was completely and utterly wrong with that sentiment.
"You gonna be a'right in here, man?" Danny's voice broke into Miles' train of thought and had him looking up at the man teetering on his crutch at the doorway. Miles stared probably for a moment too long because Danny shifted and rolled his eyes a bit. "Earth to Miles," Danny said with a smirk. "You want me to get Glenn, or Carol?" Miles shook his head and then cleared his throat. "You sure? T-Dog? Fuck Maggie would come-"
"I got this," Miles snapped finally, his eyes slipping to the slightly stirring form of Jenna in the bed. Danny's eyes followed slowly, but slid back to watch Miles rake his right hand through his hair. "I got it, Danny. I'm okay."
"No you're not," Danny said quietly shifting his weight on his good leg and adjusting his crutch under his arm. Miles lifted angered eyes up to Danny and then grimaced at Danny's stony expression. "You're not okay. And no one is expectin' you to be. This is fucked up," Danny pointed a finger to the bed and looked poignantly at Miles. "No one is okay right now. Get me?"
"Yeah," Miles said sadly, his eyes going back to his hand. "I get you."
"Now. You good to sit here while I go check on Lori and Rick?" Danny said shifting back a bit and settling himself against the doorjamb. Miles didn't say anything just continued to play with his bandage, wincing as he moved his fingers gingerly. Danny nodded and shifted his eyes outside to the hallway. "I'll be back in a few. Maggie said that Callie just got in the shower, but if she comes back before me-"
"I know," Miles said waving his hand. "I'm to turn her ass away and send her off to get some sleep." Miles lifted a bit of a humored brow at Danny. "You really think she's gonna listen to me?"
"You're an adult now, kiddo," Danny said with a smirk. "Make her listen."
"PFfft," Miles let the sound escape with a chuckle, which earned a bit of a laugh from the older man as well. "Yeah how's that worked out for you?"
"Shut up," Danny muttered scratching at his bearded chin and looking at the bed again. "You sure you're good?"
"Get outta here man," Miles said quietly eyeing Jenna's form on the bed. "I think I can handle sitting here for a few fuckin' minutes. I'm an adult now, remember."
Danny didn't say anything, he simply stood there and stared at Miles for a good couple of seconds. It had taken a good bit of brow beatin' to get the kid to actually come into the room. And even after he came in, the kid had spent the whole time staring out that same window that Callie had been staring out. He'd only sat down after Danny fuckin' manhandled him into the chair when he vacated it. And then just sat there starin' at his fuckin' broken hand, moving his fingers around and wincing. Danny bit at the inside of his cheek and stepped out of the room, clicking the door shut behind him.
Giving a quick glance up and down the hall, Danny moved to the wall opposite the door and then braced his back up against it. Sliding down slowly, fuckin' painfully to the ground, he settled his eyes on the closed door. While he should have probably actually gone to check on Rick and Lori , it had really just been an excuse. Miles needed time alone with Jenna if he was going to be able to come to grips with what was going down. Otherwise, when the time came to take care of it-Danny shook his head a bit before settling it back against the wall.
Fuck, there really wasn't anything in this world that would help any of them through this. Nothing but time. Which really wasn't something you could count on having anymore. Sliding his hands over his face Danny stared through his spread fingers at the door and waited.
Miles heard the door click shut and instantly lifted his eyes from the bandage on his hand to the bed. He almost expected her to wake up, like she was just foolin' with him and waiting for Danny to go to sleep or leave before peekin' an eye open and smiling at him.
She'd done it before. Shit they both had. Long months ago, when the adults had left the kids to sleep in one rundown gas station convenience store or another. Then they'd peeked their eyes open and sat up and talked, or played cards. Usually Ben and Gracie would fall asleep after only an hour or so, but Jenna was always up with him until they were both too damned tired to keep their eyes open.
More than once they'd fallen asleep holding hands. A fact that only Miles was really aware of because he would wake up earlier and extract his hand before the cute little redhead had a chance to see it.
Miles felt the blush rise in his cheeks and shook it off, clenching his fingers of his left hand to send another wave of pain up into his elbow.
Jenna was that type of girl that in his past life would have never give him the time of day. She was cute, and rich, and funny, and smart. And to her, he woulda been just plain ol' Miles Grant- good friend. But in the world they lived in now, he was Miles fuckin' Grant- Post-apocalyptic Survivor and Badass.
Miles chuckled a bit at the memory of the day he'd gotten dubbed that. Jenna's smile when she scribbled the words onto the bottom of the Polaroid she'd snapped. Miles' eyes skipped to the door, and his brow furrowed a bit as a smile played over his lips. He should find that photo.
As Miles worked his eyes back to his hand he skipped them over Jenna's form on the bed and was shocked when he saw the girl's glassy eyes blinking at him in the dim light. Miles sat up straight and took in a breath, watching a slightly shaky smile fall over her lips.
"You can hold my hand if you want," Jenna said quietly, her slim fingers drumming a bit on the blanket beside felt his face contort in confusion as her grin grew a little wider. "It's why your fiddling with your hands isn't it?"
"No," Miles said quickly, dropping his fingers from the edge of the ace bandage. He then held it up for her and she blinked at him a couple of times.
"What happened to your hand Mike?" Jenna said shaking her head a bit and then blinked harder. "No not Mike."
"Miles," Miles said sadly. He remembered this now, Jim calling him strange names, as if his mind was getting lost in memories. Finding difficulty in freeing the reality of the present from the haze of the memories of his past. The man would shake it off and smile at him and then call him by the right name, but the instance had always sat ill with Miles. Now, seeing Jenna go through it, he found himself getting angry about it.
"That's what I said," Jenna said shaking her head. "Come on," she patted the bed and Miles stared at her. "Sit with me. Hold my hand."
"Jen," Miles started, leaning forward in his chair and staring at her. She moved to sit up reaching across her and grabbing at pillows on her right. Miles got to his feet and rounded the bed to the other side, snatching the pillows from her slightly shaking hands. She stared up at him slightly amused and he shook his head. "You shouldn't be-"
"I want to sit up," Jenna said sternly. "I've been laying down all day. I want to sit up, and I want to talk to you like we did all those times before when it was just us." She stared at him, and he looked away, feeling the blush rise in his cheeks. "So sit your ass down, Miles."
"Oh so now you've got yourself a 'tude," Miles said chuckling and smirking as she patted her hand on the empty space of the bed at her right side.
"Please, I've always had attitude. And you know it." she said in that valley-girl tone that he'd always made fun of her for when they first met. She cracked a grin and then let her head fall back to the headboard as her eyes closed.
Miles situated himself on the bed, and slid closer, the pillow he'd grabbed from her held tight to his body by his broken arm. The fingers of his right hand began to idly drum over the pillow and Jenna smiled with her eyes closed. He could see the slight sheen of sweat across her brow, and winced as his eyes took in the large scratch that sliced her pretty face from her eyebrow to her jaw line. He watched her face, seeing her take in breath after breath with her eyes closed and head back against the headboard.
It was strange, sitting there with her, knowing that she was dying. She wasn't any different though. She was still teasing him and smiling. He furrowed his brow a bit, and slipped a bit closer.
"Jen," he started but was cut off by her shifting around a bit and smiling as her eyes opened.
"I can't believe they found a place for us to stay with bed," Jenna bounced a bit and then winced at the motion. Miles flipped the pillow out of his grip and tossed it to the floor, his right hand reaching out to settle on her legs to stop her. Her brow furrowed and she looked at him, then shook her head.
"Jenna do you know-" he stopped and let out an almost strangled sigh. "Jenna you know what's going on right? Where we are?" She stared at him in confusion for a minute, her eyes slipping around the room and he saw the moment when her brain cleared and her mind was able to focus again. And the expression that slipped over her face damn near killed him on the spot.
And that was when he reached out and finally held her hand. His broken left one gripping onto her right as he slid further up on the bed so that his hip touched hers. He reached out, without even thinking about it, and slipped a stray strand of her hair over her left ear. His hand fell back to his knee where he had settled their interlocked hands. Instead of fiddling with his bandage he let his fingers slide over her knuckles, his eyes watching in idle curiosity as each of her fingers twitched as he hit the knuckle. The heat coming off of her skin was almost too much for him to take.
They sat in silence for a good couple of minutes. Jenna's sniffling and slightly hitched breathing the only sound echoing in the room. Miles really didn't know what to say. Speechless for the second time in his life, both instances caused by the redhead on the bed with him.
"I had a dream," Jenna said quietly causing Miles to lift his eyes to her. She was staring off towards the window as she spoke. "Sophia." She said the name and frowned, and he felt his own face contort with the same expression. "I left her out there," Jenna continued, and Miles felt confusion overtake his sadness. What was she going on about now?
"Jen?"
"I had a dream though," Jenna said turning to lock her eyes with his. "She's gonna be found," she twitched her nose a bit and again looked confused and sad as she shifted her eyes back to the window. "But not by Daryl. I can't remember who, it's all blurry. But you guys are gonna find her. She's not gonna be lost forever. I know it."
"Okay," Miles said quietly, his left hand tightening on hers to get her attention back on him. "That's good, Jenna." Jenna tried to smile, Miles saw her work at it. But her chin started trembling and he saw the tears welling up in her already glassy hazel eyes.
"I don't wanna die," Jenna said finally, her upper body lurching forward with the force of the sob that followed. Her hand slipped out of his and she pushed them into her eyes. Miles flew forward, his arms encircling her tinier frame and dragging himself closer to her.
Putting his chin on the top of her head, Miles tilted his wide opened eyes to the ceiling his own breathing coming out in harsh rasps. His eyes slipped over to the door and he found himself saying a silent plea that Danny get his ass back there. He didn't know how to handle this. He hadn't known how to handle it when it had been his own brother, and he sure as hell didn't know how to handle it now.
"Fuck," Miles muttered his arms tightening on Jenna, his chin slipping over her soft hair. Where the fuck was that bastard?
"I'm sorry," Jenna said, her voice muffled by her face pressing tight into his chest. She sniffed and shook her head. "I'm trying to be strong, but-"
"You don't have to be strong," Miles said quietly over her head. He waited a minute and then slipped his hands to her shaking shoulders and pulled her away from his body. Her head was still down, her hands now clutching his shirt. He shook her just a bit, and then slid his right hand to her chin to lift her head and get her to look at him. Watery hazel eyes met his brown ones and he slapped a shaking smile onto his face. "No one's expectin' you to be. You've been strong long enough. It's our turn to be strong for you."
"You're too sweet," Jenna said with a sniff and a smile, which he returned. Her way of teasing him. All those times he'd told her about all the girls that had told him he was just 'too sweet'. He shook his head and let his thumb slide over her jaw.
Suddenly those two years that separated them didn't seem like anything. The fact that they were teenagers, supposed kids, melted into the background. What the fuck did your age matter in a world like this anyway? When he looked at her now, watching as she tried to smile through the pain she was feeling and the fear she had of dying, there was nothing else to it. Nothing but the two of them.
Jenna and Miles.
A very brief thought passed through his brain before his lips met hers. An idle thought to the nature of infectious diseases. He'd had a crash course when his Uncle Charlie had been diagnosed with full-blown AIDS years and years ago. He'd watched his favorite uncle waste away slowly from that disease; watched his partner Elliot kiss and hug him as if he wasn't sick at all.
His brain had latched onto that long ago lesson. That Elliot couldn't possibly contract his Uncle's illness from kissing him; that it just wasn't possible. Too little saliva exchanged to be any danger at all.
He knew that this disease, this sickness, whatever it was that had wiped out the world around him wasn't AIDS. Knew that he really didn't have a clue what amount of what was needed to transfer the infection from one person to the next. But honestly, in that moment when he felt her lips touch so softly to his he didn't give a flyin' fuck.
He felt Jenna gasp against his lips, and he tightened his right hand just a bit and pulled her to him. It was a small tentative kiss, barely really even a kiss at all. Mouths closed, lips pressed together in a childish fashion that had him damn near laughing at himself. But he didn't push. Because he knew, from all those late night conversations, that the pretty little redhead in his arms had never been kissed before.
Miles moved his lips against Jenna's as slowly as he could, coaxing with the little bit of skill he could boast, and finally slipping his tongue between her slightly parted lips. She sighed just a bit against his lips and he pressed in just a bit more, his fingers traveling to the back of her neck and sliding through the short length of her soft hair.
Jenna pulled away breathless and Miles let her, but only so far. He pressed his forehead into hers, his eyes closed, the heat of her fever burning into his own skin. His thumb moved over her jaw, slipping in the slight wetness caused by the tear sliding down her cheek. Eyes still closed Miles pressed her head tighter to his and then let out a slightly shaking breath.
"Okay?" Miles asked, not really able to form more than one word. Jenna was apparently having more trouble because all she could do was nod, and he was ashamed to admit that he was a bit fuckin' proud of himself 'cause of that. He chuckled and opened his eyes, his head pulling back, her fingers uncurling from their death grip on his shirt but not leaving completely. She looked up at him and bit at her bottom lip, he twitched a bit wanting to crash his lips back into hers.
Self-control and deep seeded affection for the girl in his arms kept him from doing it.
"My first and last kiss," Jenna said quietly and the words stuck into him like a knife through his heart. His hand tightened around her head again and he was pulling her closer again. Her eyes went wide, fingers spread over his chest. He knew she could feel his heart beating wildly but he didn't care. "Miles?"
"Not last," Miles said his eyes searching hers, hoping she understood. He really didn't have any other words. "Not yet." He knew she understood when her fingers curled into his shirt again and her head tipped just a bit. The slight smile on her lips as he leaned forward made him smile and he couldn't help but kiss her cheek right beside her lips tenderly before once again pressing his lips to hers.
This time the kiss deepened almost automatically, his broken left hand raising so that both of his hands were cradling her warm face. The pain in his hand and wrist was forgotten in that moment, and he let it slide to the bed to brace them as he pressed against her just a bit. Her hands lifted from his shirt and moved randomly along his arms, his shoulders, his neck. She pulled away, as he began to lower her back to a prone position on the bed, sliding down so that he lay next to her but slightly over her. He looked at her smiling slightly at the blush on her cheeks, one that had nothing to do with the infection taking over her body. She smiled timidly back and pressed her hands flat against his chest.
"I don't know what to do with my hands," Jenna admitted shyly her eyes sliding from his in embarrassment. He smirked at her, and she rolled her eyes and in that instant he knew he'd love her forever. "Where should I-"
"Put them wherever you want, Jen." Miles said as he pecked at her lips. "It'll work itself out." Miles pressed his lips into hers again shutting off any further discussion. Her hands slipped over his chest and around his neck holding him to her and he couldn't help but smile against her lips. He kissed her harder then, working to shut out the world around them. And just letting them for one simple moment be two teenagers and nothing more.
The world is coming down on me and I can't find a reason to be loved
I never wanna leave you but I can't make you bleed if I'm alone
You put your arms around me
And I believe that it's easier for you to let me go…
I tried my best to never let you see the truth
And I've never opened up
I've never truly loved 'til you put your arms around me
And I believe that it's easier for you to let me go
Danny reached out with his crutch and knocked it against the closed door before him for the second time, the knocks a bit harder as his paranoia started taking hold. Just as he was pulling the crutch back he heard a loud engine outside that had his head tilting towards where the front door lay. The sound of the bedroom door slowly opening had his eyes slipping back to it and he couldn't help but smirk at the sight before him.
Disheveled and embarrassed as hell, Miles exited the room still working his t-shirt back down over his trim torso. The kid ran his good hand through his hair trying to tame the dark blonde mess and stared down at Danny in a bit of confusion.
Confusion that lasted only a moment before anger and annoyance seeped over the kid's slightly flushed cheeks.
"You been there the whole fuckin' time?" Miles spat out and Danny grinned and waggled his brows. "I should kick you in your bum leg." Danny laughed and reached out a hand to the kid who was slowly closing the door behind him. He was avoiding eye contact as he reached down and not so gently helped Danny to his feet.
"We both know you're a lover not a fighter, stud." Danny instantly winced when the kid knocked him to the side a bit, but he chuckled too. "You didn't do anything too stupid, right?" Danny asked as he winced and adjusted himself on his crutch. His hand tightened on Miles' shoulder and the kid rubbed at the back of his head before glaring at Danny.
"No," Miles said, the flush of embarrassment working its way off of his cheeks. "Unless you count kissing a dyin' girl stupid."
"Not at all," Danny said patting Miles' shoulder. They stood there for a minute, Miles seeming to search the floor for answers to questions that he wasn't ever going to voice to anyone. Danny squeezed his shoulder again, the sound of the front door opening and loud angry steps on the floorboards sending his gaze down the hallway.
Danny couldn't help the smirk that lifted his lips as Daryl's eyes met his, and he lifted his chin in a nod of welcome to the annoyed looking redneck. Daryl turned towards him, ignoring the sounds of the rest of their group as they called out to him. Danny shook his head and smiled causing Daryl to stop.
"'Bout damn time you showed up," Danny said with a chuckle. "She's upstairs still cleanin' up I think. Second door on the left." Daryl gave a simple lift of his chin to Danny, his eyes skimming over to Miles who was still adjusting his t-shirt. He lifted his foot to leave but then turned back and squinted hard at them.
"Jenna?" Daryl asked, his voice harsh but not angry. He cleared his throat and took in a deep breath as Danny smiled just a bit.
"She's resting," Miles filled in, his eyes catching on Daryl's. "Now go. And make sure you fuckin' knock or something."
Daryl let out a gruff huff of a breath that acted as a bit of a laugh and then shook his head. He turned from the two men in the hallway and pushed on. Rick slipped into step with Daryl as he worked towards the stairwell. The former sheriff's hand clasping onto the redneck's in welcome, his mouth moving with whispered words as he walked with Daryl towards the stairs and out of Danny's sight.
Callie settled the fresh dark green camisole around her midsection, the soft feel of the clean loose fitting silk fabric so foreign against her skin that she actually shivered. The clean pair of jeans actually felt like they fit, rather than slipping down with each and every small movement she made. Her eyes lifted and she stared into the steam covered mirror. Lifting her slightly shaking hand she wiped at the wet steam revealing her reflection. She sniffed and then placed both of her hands tight to the white sink in front of her, the slight twinge of pain in her left hand causing her to loosen her grip just a bit.
Her wet waving hair scattered and clung to the skin around her shoulders. Shoulders that looked almost boney now instead of well-toned. Her body was wasting away slowly in this world that they lived in. Too many days of going with too little food. Too many times where she'd scraped half of her food onto Gracie or Ben's plates, or let Miles finish hers when the boy had eyed it with that hungry look that all teenage boys had where food was concerned. Too many stressful moments when she just couldn't stomach anything at all.
Callie let out a slow breath and tipped her head down, her eyes staring into the sink. She saw a few dark hairs still clinging to the white porcelain. Shane's recently shorn locks stuck there from all the condensation that the steaming hot showers had caused. She picked up the small hand towel from the rack beside her and idly began wiping those hairs away.
She felt uncomfortable in this house, for a great many reasons. But most of all for intruding upon this strangely serene piece of land. For somehow tainting it with their woe begotten lives, bringing pain, sorrow and disease upon complete strangers. Her hands scrubbed harder at the sink, still seeing Shane's dark hairs in the basin.
She felt this unrelenting need to erase the presence of those hairs from the untarnished porcelain. Hoping that the act would help to somehow bring this small family back to the strange bit of normalcy that they'd achieved in the hellhole of a world that they all lived in now.
She scrubbed harder, and wished that the simple act of cleaning that sink of Shane's hair would bring back the man that they had lost. Otis. But she knew that was impossible. Knew that nothing would bring that man back to his wife and his family here.
He died.
He died for them. Sacrificed his life for one of their own.
Miles' face flew into her thoughts, the look that she watched flit across his face when Shane told them of Otis' fate causing her to snarl. Callie scrubbed harder, until she finally got fed up, and threw the towel across the room. Her hands went back to the sink and she closed her eyes tight at the sight of those fucking hairs that just wouldn't be cleaned off and just simply slipped around the wet basin in a taunting fashion. She closed her eyes tight and willed herself not to cry again.
She'd done enough fucking crying today. Hell she'd cried enough for a fucking lifetime in the span of the few hours she'd been at this farm.
Her tears weren't going to help anything. Not Rick. Not Carl. Not Jenna. Not Sophia. Not Patricia. God fucking damn there were just too many. She was so busy trying to control the painful pressure of tears stinging behind her eyes that she didn't hear the door open. She only turned when she picked up the sound of voices from outside that cracked door.
"You can't go in there," Maggie's slightly angered and incredulous tone filtered in and Callie's brow narrowed as the door slipped a bit further open.
"Back off, Calamity Jane," Daryl's annoyed voice sounded and Callie couldn't help the smile that tilted her lips as the man came into view. His dirty, bedraggled form blocking out the light filtering in around him was so welcome a sight that her heart thumped like a fucking dog's tail at seeing it's master. His hand was tight on the knob and he was glaring daggers at what she expected was Maggie. After a single second of glaring he snarled at the girl and then threw himself inside the bathroom. His eyes still glaring at the now visible, and completely pissed off, Maggie Greene.
"You can't-" Maggie's eyes slipped to Callie, obviously catching the smile on her face. Callie shook her head and Maggie's mouth opened and closed a few times before she again stared at Daryl's angry face.
"Get outta here, little girl. Go bother Chinaman." Daryl shooed the girl away with his free hand, his other hand still gripping the door knob. He repeated the motion and watched as Maggie continued to glare. Finally he rolled his eyes and just slammed the door in her face. The girl's muffled 'Asshole' had Callie actually chuckling.
"You know," Callie said as Daryl snapped his eyes from the door over to her. "We're probably gonna have to work on your people skills eventually."
"Fuck people skills," Daryl spat. "Bitch called me Robin Hood." Callie barked out a laugh and worked to instantly quell her laughter as Daryl turned towards her.
As soon as their eyes met across the small expanse of the still steamy bathroom, Callie's hand fell from her lips. It had been a long time since she'd been so utterly paralyzed by those piercing blue orbs of his and the power that they seemed to hold over her. Her breath caught in her throat as he simply stared at her, that moment of simple humor lost as the thick weight of everything crashed down between them.
Callie felt her body rebelling against the stranglehold she had on her emotions. Felt the quiver of her chin, and the hitch of her breath before it began to stutter out in poorly controlled bursts. She turned away at the feel of the tears burning a path out of her eyes and sliding down her cheeks.
"Fuck," Callie said slamming her hands back into the sink. Her bleary, tear-streaked vision instantly locking onto those two or three fucking dark hairs still stuck to the inside of the sink. She smashed her left hand against the side of the sink and grimaced as she watched a few red streaks slide down towards the drain.
"Callie," Daryl's voice was raspy and far off in her mind, as if he wasn't really there. She watched those bloody streaks and thought for a moment that maybe he wasn't. Maybe he was a figment of her imagination. That she'd finally thought about him being there, wished and hoped so much that he would come and be here with her, that finally her mind just took over and let it happen.
Then she felt those warm calloused hands settle around her upper arms, and the hard comfort of his chest press into her back. Her eyes stayed on the sink, her head dipping down so that her chin practically rested on her chest.
"I thought," she shook her head, her damp hair slapping into her face. "I wasn't expecting you until the morning. I—"
"You're a stubborn-," Daryl said cutting her off, but unable to finish his own statement as his voice cracked. His hands slipped from their grip a bit and he turned her around to face him. His eyes locked onto the sink basin and the small smear of blood from her left hand. "Honest to fuckin' God woman. Why do you have to take it all on you?" Callie didn't lift her eyes, because she knew the instant she actually met his gaze she would completely burst. Just feeling his hands on her was already breaking her will.
She was done crying. At least she wanted to be.
"Glenn said you were staying with the kids-" her brow furrowed and before she could even utter the question he cut her off.
"Ben and Gracie are still with Andrea and Dale at the highway." Daryl said quietly, she lifted her eyes then and watched a myriad of emotions fly over his face as his gaze settled, staring at the scant space between them. "Figured you needed a bit of time," his mouth twitched to the side and his gaze tipped up to hers. He left the rest of whatever he'd been planning to say to echo around in the confines of his own mind and simply watched her face fall, weighed down with such emotion that he had a hard time actually looking at her.
"I thought you were staying with them? Staying for Sophia." Callie said quietly.
"Wasn't any point," Daryl said as he lifted one hand to the side of her face, his thumb wiping the tears from her cheeks. Her eyes snapped up to his, those beautiful red-rimmed hazel eyes twinkling with the wetness she was struggling to keep in check. "My body was on that fuckin' highway, but everythin' else, everythin' that counted was here." Callie tilted her head into the warmth of his hand, unable to keep the tiny smile from her lips and watched as his face scrunched a bit as insecurity threatened to take over his actions. She felt his hand twitch as if he wanted to remove it from her face, but he fought for control and simply stared at the small bit of space between them as he collected his thoughts.
"Dale and Andrea are gonna leave a bunch of supplies there for Sophia, in case she makes it back there. Gonna leave a note for her telling her we'll be back to check. Every day. Andrea's gonna bring the wagon, since it's got Carl's stuff. Figure the kid's gonna want it," Callie smiled just a bit at the man as he uncomfortably explained a plan he no doubt came up with. His eyes were darting around, flitting to hers briefly before moving again. "Then Glenn and T-Dog can head back for the Jeep. Figure we can head up the search from here once everythin's settled." He shook his head as if confused. As if, even though it sounded like the right way to do things, the fact simple fact that it was his plan, and his alone, made it difficult to accept.
"That sounds like a good plan," Callie said idly, falling into the feel of his hand on her face. Offering what little bit of comfort she could to the man before her. He nodded once and let out a grunt of acceptance.
The simple solid presence of his body so close to hers was still so surreal that she couldn't resist lifting her fingers and curling them into the rough fabric of his shirt. She tugged just a bit and he easily closed the distance between them, his hand sliding behind her head and pressing her face into his chest. She breathed him in slowly, feeling his other hand smooth over the silk fabric at the small of her back. His chin rested on the top of her still damp head for a moment before his bristly chin slid down so that his lips were settled at her ear.
"Not sure what the fuck I can do here," his voice was an uncertain whisper against her ear. It gave her chills and she clutched tighter to him. She again felt the tears slide from behind her closed eyes as he said the words she'd been hoping and praying to hear. "But I'm here."
Callie nodded against his chest, and turned so that her cheek was settled against his heart. Daryl's hand tangled a bit more into her hair, rough fingers grazing the back of her neck and pressing into the tight knots there. He didn't seem to care about the tears soaking his shirt. Which was good, because she had apparently lost the fucking battle with crying and fell into her fit for all it was.
They stood that way for a while, Daryl's body rigid against her as he usually was when forced to do something so against his norm. He slowly relaxed into her, pulling her tighter to him as she cried. He pulled her so close that it seemed like he was trying to pull her into him. That protective cocoon of-whatever it was between them calming Callie's sobs until they were nothing more than sniffs.
His arms relaxed a bit, and he nuzzled his stubble-covered chin against her hair working to move it away from her skin so that he could have the contact he craved. His lips settled against her cheek briefly before sliding to her ear again.
"Rick said you gave blood to Carl," Daryl said idly, his voice that low dulcet tone it had been that night he comforted her on the highway. She nodded against his chest and waited for him to continue. "Fuckin' stupid." She smiled against him and tightened her grip in his shirt. "Got 'nough to be worryin' 'bout without bleedin' yourself dry."
"He needed it," Callie said in return. Her voice sounding so foreign, the soreness of her constricted throat killing the usual sounds of her voice and delivering a rasp of grief.
"Yeah," Daryl said slightly annoyed. "You an' this fuckin' helpful streak you got, gonna be the deatha both of us." His hands slid from their positions and once again landed at her upper arms, holding her out at arm's length. "No more."
"Hershel's already put a stop to mine and Rick's blood-giving," Callie said smiling slightly and he grimaced. She knew that wasn't what he was talking about, but that's what she was giving him. She couldn't promise him not to try and save someone if she could. He stared at her and she saw him growl when he finally begrudgingly accepted that.
Callie suddenly felt the tug of exhaustion and her legs stumbled just a bit beneath her. Daryl's hands tightened, his brow furrowing as he pulled her a bit towards him. His gaze slipped over her shoulder and he pushed her back until her calves hit the toilet. He pushed a bit more and made her sit, following her down and settling himself on one knee between her legs. His hands slipped to her hips, holding her in place there as if he knew she was going to try and get up the second the next question left his lips.
"How is she?" Daryl's voice was quiet, and damn if he didn't know her well because she was squirming to get away. His hands held tight, fingers pressing into her in a comforting but unrelenting way. She looked into his eyes and felt her lip again start with that fucking bit of quivering.
"Bad," Callie said, that single word so filled with pain and despair that he actually flinched as it scraped out of her dry constricted throat. "The infection," she shook her head lifting her hands to wipe at her eyes in anger. "At first I thought we'd be able to amputate," she caught his eye, the way his brow twitched and she smiled sadly. "But she's too far gone. I don't know if it's the running and adrenaline that pumped in her for so long , or if it's that this fuckin' disease is just that unpredictable, but," Callie again wiped angrily at her face and Daryl's hands shot off her hips to grab them.
He held both hands in his left hand and then bent slightly to grab for the discarded towel she'd used after her shower. She stared at him in wonder as he lifted it to her face and gently wiped, her eyes going a bit wide at the sight of red staining the fabric. Her eyes went to her left hand, and she shook her head at herself. He didn't say anything as he cleaned off the bit of blood on her face, and remained quiet as he flipped over her left hand and dabbed gently at the slice there.
"She make any decisions?" Daryl asked quietly, not looking up at her. He couldn't really take the pain etched into her eyes anymore. Cuts, scrapes, bruises and blood-that he could handle. The deep seeded pain in this woman's eyes as she talked about the dying girl down stairs. He wasn't fuckin' prepared for that.
"She knows it's bad," Callie said in return, her throat again threatening to close up. "She knows it's gonna be sooner rather than later. She's starting to get confused," Callie said furrowing her brow and causing Daryl's eyes to lift to hers in confusion. "Keeps asking if we found Sophia yet, forgetting that she had asked it only moments before." The words stuck into Daryl hard and Callie slipped her right hand around his wrist squeezing once. "Daryl—"
He shook his head and shook off her hand continuing to put a bit of pressure to her sliced palm. "Gonna find her tomorrow," Daryl said quietly, his eyes slipping up to hers. "She'll be able to rest easy on that."
"Yeah," Callie said in return, taking a deep breath as he waited patiently for her to continue. "Jenna doesn't want to wait to turn. She wants to-" Callie stuttered out a breath and looked away towards the sink with that small stain of red. She broke her hands away from his and grabbed the towel inching forward on her perch to try and clean it off.
"You want me to," Daryl said and her she stopped her cleaning as she slipped her eyes back to him. He was staring at his hands dangling between his raised knee and the one on the floor. He looked at her and hardened his face. "I promised I'd take care of you, 'cause you said you couldn't. If you can't do this, if Danny can't…"
Daryl let the offer hang out in the air between them and Callie was left staring into his eyes again. Those straightforward eyes unable to hide his discomfort with what he was offering, but the steeliness in those depths told Callie that he'd follow through with it. That he'd take that hit for her. Instantly the towel dropped from her hands and she raised both to his face, her left pulling back slightly so as not to put blood on him. He lifted his hand and pulled her left hand against his cheek not giving a fuck about the blood, only caring about her touch.
Callie's mouth opened, words sitting on the tip of her tongue begging to come out. Words that once said, could never be taken back. She stared into his eyes for a long time, losing herself to the feel of his thumb working over the back of the knuckles on her wounded left hand. Her mouth opened, and closed, then opened again.
"I -" she stopped and closed her eyes, shaking her head and putting her forehead to his. "Thank you," she pressed her lips to his very softly and felt his move slightly against hers. Breaking the sweet feel of that tender kiss she shook her head against his. "She doesn't want us to," Callie said quietly a sad smile tilting her lips. "Doesn't want that to be our last memory of her. She wants to take care of it herself."
"Yeah, well we saw how that worked with Jim," Daryl snapped, and almost instantly he flinched and pulled Callie back as she pulled away. "Jesus, I'm—"
"It's okay," Callie said shaking her head as she pulled slightly away from him. Tears were again shining in her eyes and Daryl snarled at himself for having caused them. "You're right." He furrowed his brow in anger and she waved a hand in the air, her other hand falling from his face. "You are."
"So what's the plan?" Daryl asked quietly. "What are we doin'?" The simplicity of the fact that he said 'we' that he hadn't for one instant even imagined her doing this on her own. The fact that she knew he wasn't going to let her do it alone, no matter how much she tried, settled over her. She looked at him and searched his sad blue eyes for a sign at how he was feeling. And for once she came up short, completely unable to read the man before her.
"I have to talk to Rick, to Hershel." Callie said shaking her head and pushing against his shoulder to get shakily to her feet. He stood before her and let her slip towards the sink and run the water, splashing her face a few times. Her left hand clenching and unclenching at the sting of the water on her cut. "Hershel's not quite pleased with the idea of this happening here."
"Then we take her somewhere else." Daryl spat angrily and she watched him stare at her in the mirror. She turned to face him and he nodded. "You and me. We'll find her a nice spot." Callie felt the tears threaten again and shook her head as she began to walk past him towards the door.
Daryl reached out and grabbed her arm, shocking her when he pulled her back into a firm embrace. His lips pressed to her forehead and she closed her eyes and wrapped herself around him.
"Thank you," Callie said quietly as he trailed his lips over the side of her face and pressed his cheek to hers. "Thank you for not telling me that it would be 'okay', for just being - Thank you."
"Why the fuck would I say it's gonna be okay?" Daryl said in a confused whisper against her ear. "It ain't. It's gonna be hard, and it's gonna hurt like hell. But I'm here," Daryl scoffed a little. "For whatever that's fuckin' worth."
"It's worth a lot," Callie whispered as she lifted her head and looked at him. "More than anything else." He pressed her lips into his and he kissed her, really kissed her. His tongue slipped into her mouth as his hands tightened around her pulling her against his warm solid body. His hand snaked into her hair, fingers tangling almost painfully as he tilted her so that he could deepen the kiss more. Callie fell into that kiss with everything she had, letting it wash over her and kill the remaining despair that had settled so strongly over her throughout this day.
That kiss gave her back her strength, and readied her for whatever was to come. The simple knowledge that he was there, and would be no matter what, taking a hold of her heart and soul.
I hope that you see right through my walls
I hope that you catch me, 'cause I'm already falling
I'll never let a love get so close
You put your arms around me and I'm home
~Arms/ Christina Perri
AN: A little bit (OKAY A LOTTA BIT) of sap for everyone. YAY Daryl came to the farm. Aren't we happy!
I can only hope this whole chapter, Jenna/ Miles and Daryl/Callie made y'all as happy as it made me to write.
Now as I stated with the last chap, I will be heading to the lake…but I really wanted to get this out before hand. So I may not have a chap for a while…bear with me and know I haven't forgotten 'bout ya! So y'all know...next chapter the crews gonna be all back together. YAY!
Much love
See ya next chapter!