New Meanings To Old Words: Love
I'm back and more exciting…EVERYONE'S AT THE FARM! If there is no other happy-happy received from this chapter… then so be it. Hope y'all enjoy.
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).
Lies
The sun was barely breaking over the horizon, the yellow hues of morning not even strong enough to light the sky fully, and yet the farm was abuzz with activity. Not the normal activity of the early morning hours. Good Lord, it was still too early for even that to be taking place. No this was a different type of activity, a strange sort of activity that left a slight buzzing of unease throughout the air around the entire house.
Barely past five in the morning and already the house was unsettled. Maggie settled her arms across her chest, her usual posture when trying to hold off the unease of an unavoidable situation, and let her eyes roam over her family's land. Her father was on the outskirts near the fencing, his slightly imposing silhouette easily discernible to her eyes. Beside him stood a lean figure, both hands resting on his hips as he looked out over the slowly lighting fields beyond.
Rick Grimes.
It had to be Rick. She'd heard him in speaking in muffled tones with her father just before they moved away from the porch and her eagerly listening ears and headed out towards the fence. Maggie bit at the inside of her cheek and wished that she could hear just what it was they were talking about so early. But the way her father's eyes had caught hers as she peered through the back doorway of the dining room at him just before he ushered Rick away told her that the conversation was not one open to the public.
The public.
Maggie's gaze slid over from her perch towards where the newly arrived 'public' lay. Rick and Callie's ragtag group was working in an odd sort of harmony to set up a camp area along the roadway into the property. The way they worked it was easy to see that the motions of setting up a camp this way was something they had done many a time in the past. From her vantage point she couldn't quite see what they were doing, and she felt herself walking along the large wraparound porch of the house to get a better view.
Maggie slowly walked, her eyes picking up more and more of the activity of the people settling in not far from her home. A part of her was wary at having so many strangers around, but another part couldn't help but feel a hum of excitement. It had been so long since they'd actually seen another person, at least one that wasn't sick with this disease. Maggie bit at her bottom lip and tightened her arms around her chest feeling an almost overwhelming sense of guilt wash over her. Guilt for even thinking about how nice it was to have other people around again, especially with the horror afflicting this group being the sole cause for them being there in the first place. Guilt for just standing there and staring at them as if it were the circus movin' into town, instead of helping them to set themselves up.
Maggie squinted her eyes as she looked at the odd assortment of people and vehicles littering her yard. The large orange Hummer had been the only one she'd known of. Now the Hummer was gone and a battered old RV, with an umbrella and a couple of chairs on the roof, was settled in with a station wagon being maneuvered nearer to the fence area. A man stood atop the RV, his body turned in such a way that she could swear his eyes were on her. Maggie tucked her arms a bit tighter around herself and continued walking, her eyes on the unconventional activity fluttering about that had her so on edge.
"The rest of the group came," Beth said startling Maggie and sending her back a few steps. Maggie's eyes flew to where her younger sister was perched on the railing of the porch, chin in her hands just staring openly at the newcomers. "'Bout half an hour ago," Beth continued, not moving her eyes from the group. "Little before first light, just like the Asian boy said."
"Glenn," Maggie said quietly, finally earning an interested raised brow from her sister as she peeked over her shoulder at her. Maggie looked away and out towards the group shrugging a bit and playing off the small hint of a blush she could feel rising on her cheeks. "If they're gonna be here a while, we may as well learn their names, Beth."
"Whatever," Beth said quietly her eyes returning to the group setting up tents in the grass. "So the last few were interesting. There was the old guy, he's up on the RV," Beth started again and Maggie shifted her eyes to the roof of the RV. "Not really sure what he's doing. I think he's overseeing the set up or somethin'. Then there was the blonde," Beth's face scrunched. "I think she's maybe the old guy's daughter, or something. I know your Asian boy,"
"Glenn," Maggie huffed earning a sly smile from her sister.
"Glenn," Beth said in that tone that had Maggie rolling her eyes and wishing bodily harm upon her younger sibling. "He seems pretty close to the old guy and the blonde," Maggie's head perked a bit and her eyes searched for this blonde woman. But she didn't see her. To that fact, she didn't see Glenn either, or the black man with the cut on his arm. Maggie's brow twitched a bit as she worked her arms tighter around herself, barely registering Beth's continued speaking. "But as far as I can tell the blonde and that guy with the crutch have something going on. I'm not too sure though, just a passing glance had me thinking…" Maggie's eyes cut back to her sister, watching as the younger girl shrugged. Maggie narrowed her brow, but before she could question her sister's apparent unending knowledge of the newcomers in the yard, Beth continued on in a strangely excited tone. "Then there were the kids," Beth pointed a bit and Maggie's eyes followed, widening a bit at the sight of two tiny specks of people.
Maggie watched as Callie's unmistakable lithe form picked up what she could see was a very small little girl and balanced her on her hip. The low light of the slow dawning morning helped her to make out the form of a young boy settled in on the ground not far away from Callie at the base of a newly assembled tent. Maggie felt her lip twitch in a bit of a snarl as she watched the also unmistakable form of the sleeveless, hillbilly asshole that had arrived last night. Her snarl faded just a bit when she saw the man put a hand to the boy's head and ruffle his hair a bit before bending to snatch up a tent pole. The man turned towards Callie and the girl and Maggie felt her head tilting to the side in wonder as she watched them.
"I'm pretty sure that the kids are theirs," Beth said in an almost excited tone. "Callie and that guy's, the one that showed up on the motorcycle last night." Beth looked over at Maggie and raised her brow. "They look like 'em. The boy and his dusty colored hair and the girl with those dark curls," Maggie shifted her attention back to them and found Callie's eyes now on her and Beth. An instant sense of embarrassment flooded her and she felt the rush of blood to her cheeks that immediately had her looking away again. "Cute little family. Pretty sure I heard Callie call him Daryl." Maggie's brow's again raised and Beth tossed out an exaggerated hand at her sister's apparent lack of understanding. "Her husband. Motorcycle man. Think she called him Daryl."
"How long have you been-"
"Miles throws me a bit. He's a bit too old to be theirs," Beth began again, ignoring Maggie's disgruntled sigh at her sister's obvious lack of attention to her. Instead, Maggie's lip twitched just a bit as she sidled closer to her sister.
"Miles, huh?" Maggie said with a bit of a smile. Beth rolled her eyes at her sister as if in annoyance, but the slight ducking of her head and slump to her shoulders told Maggie she was embarrassed.
"The way Callie treats him though, I'm not so sure. I mean, I guess they could have had him young," Beth continued as if Maggie hadn't said a word. The girl was on a roll now not even paying attention to Maggie, just fully engrossed in watching the young boy as he directed the newly returned Hummer and a Jeep into place near their camp. Maggie spotted Glenn slip out of the Hummer, watching with a keen sort of interest as he stopped and spoke with the boy. The mythical blonde woman finally came into view then offering a smile and a hand to Glenn's shoulder before she worked towards where Carol stood near the RV opening cans. Glenn then turned towards her and she swore his eyes latched right on to hers, a fact that was completely absurd considering the distance between them.
"Beth," Maggie said shaking her head at the heat of the blush she could feel and her own gawking, and instead trying to get her sister's attention.
"I know that the redhead isn't theirs," Beth continued idly, slim fingers tapping along her chin as if she were deep in thought. "But I guess Miles could be," Beth was biting on her fingernails now and Maggie was becoming a bit angered by her sister's seemingly inappropriate actions. "I think the guy with the crutch is Rick's brother, and maybe Callie's too." Beth furrowed her brow a bit and tilted her head towards where their father and Rick were standing. "They could be siblings, I mean at first I thought Callie and Rick were-"
"Beth!" Maggie finally elbowed her sister and got the girl to stop. "Good Lord, they aren't some traveling road show soap opera here for your amusement. Seriously, how long have ya been out here starin' at them?"
"A while I guess. I couldn't sleep," Beth said quietly her eyes sliding beyond Maggie towards the house. "That girl," Beth's mouth twitched to the side and she looked up at her sister with fearful blue eyes. "I guess. You know," she looked back at the group and Maggie put a hand to her shoulder.
Yeah, she knew. She hadn't really been able to sleep either.
"C'mon," Maggie said quietly giving a small tug to Beth's sweater. "Stop starin' it's impolite." Beth scoffed a little and hopped off the railing to follow her sister back inside.
"They're setting up camp in our front lawn, Mags. I think the barrier of impolite was passed long ago." Beth said sliding her eyes behind her as she let the screen door close. After a deep breath that had Maggie again looking over her shoulder at her younger sister Beth continued on in a sad tone. "I don't think any of them slept at all."
"Yeah," Maggie said, watching Beth's gaze slip back to her. She inclined her head towards the kitchen and Beth followed in a bit of a huff. "I don't think they've slept much in a long time."
"Is it really that bad out there?" Beth asked quietly as she leaned on the island in the kitchen and watched Maggie settle in near the sink. Maggie placed her hands on the edge of the sink and stared down the drain. Maggie had seen the wreckage of the town that she and Otis had raided a couple of times for supplies. So the question from Beth wasn't so strange, the girl had been drillin' her for information for weeks. Information that her dad would have killed her for sharin' with the 'young and impressionable children' aka Beth and Jimmy. "I mean they look so," Beth shrugged and let her eyes slip back towards the front door. "I mean did you see how dirty they all were."
"How would you expect to look living on the road," Maggie snapped at her sister, her mind slipping back from the wreckage of that town to the people setting up camp in their front lawn. People that had lived and survived in that horror for months. She turned and watched as Beth rose up from her slumped position. "Honestly, Beth, the world ain't what it used to be."
"I know that!" Beth snapped back, her fine blonde brows narrowing at her sister. "I was just sayin'-"
"I know what you were sayin'," Maggie shook her head and let out a long ragged sigh as she worked towards the refrigerator. She opened the door and stared inside at the food, her mind instantly flashing back to the bedraggled state of the group camping on her lawn. The small fire near the RV, and cans lined up and being opened by Carol and the blonde woman that she didn't yet know the name of. Maggie bit at the inside of her cheek for a few seconds before shaking her head and grabbing at the leftovers settled inside.
There really wasn't any rhyme or reason to what she pulled out. She merely felt this unyielding need to feed these people. To clothe them. To help them. Beth stood back and watched her sister madly pull food out of the fridge, eyes wide and expression confused.
"What are you doing?" Beth asked quietly sliding herself around to where Maggie was now moving to the breadbox and tossing the loaves onto the island.
"What does it look like?" Maggie said quickly her eyes slipping to her confused and anxious sister. "You sat there for how long just starin' at them Beth, but did you see them? Did you see what they were plannin' on eatin'?" Maggie shook her head and continued to the next cupboard grabbing the preserves and peanut butter and then plates.
"But daddy said," Beth started and Maggie whirled around cutting her off.
"Jesus Christ, Beth!" Maggie practically screamed. The slack-jawed awe showing on her sister's face immediately had Maggie regretting her use of the Lord's name in vain. But she shook it off. "He can ground me." Maggie seethed out in a tone dripping with sarcasm. "I will not sit in here and feast on all of this, while those people, those children, settle themselves in the yard and eat beans and canned fruit. Now are you gonna go cryin' off and tellin' dad or are you gonna act like an adult for once and help."
A slight shuffling sound behind them had whatever Beth's response was dying on her lips. Both girls turned to the doorway and saw the red-rimmed eyes of Patricia staring at them. The older woman's sweater was drawn tight over her slim shoulders, while her light blonde hair flew around her head in a wild state. Maggie cringed and let the jar of preserves she held clatter loudly to the kitchen island.
"Patricia—"
"Your sister's right, Beth." Patricia said in a hoarse voice. She sniffed a bit and then uncrossed her arms from around her body, sliding forward and around the island until her cold fingers touched to Maggie's arm. Maggie smiled just a bit at the grieving woman and placed a hand over hers. "Your father has his reasons for keeping those people at a distance, reasons I know you are both old enough to understand. But even I find it hard to believe that he would stand by and allow them to starve on his land. We'll set up the food outside," Patricia said looking at Beth.
"What should I take?" Beth said finally sending a small smile to her sister.
"Anything. Everything," Maggie said looking at the assortment of food she'd tossed haphazardly onto the counter. "Whatever you can. I'll start the eggs."
Danny lifted a hand against the sun in his eyes and stared sadly at the people slowly milling about the picnic table near the Greene family home. Usually sun-dappled late summer picnics were happy occasions. At least all the ones he'd ever been to. But this, this was something completely different.
Uncomfortable seemed like a fuckin' understatement for the feel of the air around the two distinct groups settled near the house. The air was thick with whatever that feeling was. That unspoken tension that lingered on the shoulders of Hershel as he watched his family intermix, albeit in a very reserved way, with the group that had taken up residence on his lawn was palpable to everyone.
And it was the exact reason that Danny had taken his ass for a little walk.
His own discomfort had finally become a bit too much. The girls, Maggie and Beth, had probably expected the meal to go over better. Like the fuckin' first Thanksgiving or something, the locals sharing their wealth and food with the invading pilgrims. But the tone had been set, and it was a solemn and apprehensive one. One on the heels of a funeral service for a man he'd never met.
Otis, the man who accidentally shot Carl and then sacrificed his life so that it could be saved.
Danny's mouth twitched a bit, his eyes sliding from where the rest of the group was quietly thanking their hosts and over towards the fence at the edge of the property, and the figure standing there. Danny wasn't the only one feeling the uneasiness in the atmosphere, and as he hobbled slowly along the grass towards the figure he felt the slight twinge of a growing headache behind his eyes.
Miles. That poor fuckin' kid. Danny watched the boy-the young man- as he settled a foot up against the fence, his forearms resting on the top crossbar. The kid had been through a shit-storm as of late. First finding the bedraggled Jenna. Then seeing Carl shot. Then heading into droves of Walkers, almost getting his ass torn up on more than one occasion, to get the equipment needed to save his friend. Witnessing the death of a man trying to aid them. And then finally being met with the news that even though they may have saved Carl; Jenna was going to die.
Yeah, the kid had every right to be moping around and exiling himself from the group. And if it had been anyone other than Miles doing it, he'd have been just fine and dandy to let them sit and sulk in peace. But it wasn't anyone else. It was fuckin' Miles Grant.
The kid he'd seen take the death of his entire family in stride. The kid who had become a new person in order to survive in this hellhole of a world that they existed in. Yeah, Jenna was hittin' him hard. That whole fucked up mess was gonna hit them all hard. But that wasn't what had Miles shying away from everyone.
Danny'd seen it when he first arrived, the look that passed over the kid's face when Maggie had mentioned her man Otis not making it back from the supply raid. It had been quick, and the kid had worked really hard to mask it, but it had been there. Guilt and something else Callie had obviously noticed too. The look on her face when he mentioned it to her, the nod of her head as he made his way away from the group only moments ago.
Yeah, she knew something was up.
After their first great mistake in this new world, the one that had cost a few lives and had their sense of safety and security to come crashing down around them in a heap of unrelenting fear and distrust, he and Callie had made set up a few ground rules. Rules that they both lived and breathed by now.
Never judge a book by its cover. Never let that slight feeling of unease in a person to dwindle after a few acts of kindness. And never stop paying attention to the people and the world around them.
And while Callie boasted an almost uncanny ability to read a person and a situation in a damn blink of the eye, Danny had been a bit slower on the uptake. He was slightly proud of the fact that he'd been able to pick up on Miles' agitation; knowing that he'd apparently read the situation right. But his pride was short-lived when he figured out what had caused it.
A fact that apparently his fuckin' almost psychic female counterpart had already guessed.
So while Callie was working hard to avoid a chit-chat with the Greene family patriarch-her mind more involved in keeping Jenna comfortable, and worrying as Daryl, T-Dog and Glenn left to go search for Sophia—Danny was heading over to have a bit of a chat with Miles. A chat well out of ear shot of the man with the newly shaved head that had been eyeing the boy throughout the entire funeral service.
"You didn't eat much, man." Danny said as he came to within ear shot of Miles at his perch on the fence. Miles jumped a bit, apparently too lost in his thoughts to have heard the loud-ass approach of the be-crutched wonder that was Danny. Miles stared at him for a moment and Danny raised a brow. "Pretty amazin'. You're a fuckin' Hoover when its canned goods and squirrel meat, but give you actual food and you act like a fuckin' supermodel worryin' 'bout a bikini shoot."
Miles cracked a small grin and Danny felt his own lips twitch. Shaking his head a bit Miles looked away from Danny and back out to the open fields beyond the fence. Danny shuffled forward, wincing slightly at the uneven ground and then propped himself next to the kid at the fence.
"Wasn't hungry," Miles said quietly.
"Yeah, well, by the looks of it those two girls are obviously gonna catch some flack for that spread they put out," Danny said tossing his head over his shoulder. "Make sure you at least say thank you."
Miles grunted and nodded his head before letting his chin slip down to his chest. Danny turned his body to face towards the fields, but kept his gaze on the boy beside him. The angry bruised flesh around the cut in his brow and the newly worked splint that replaced the cast on his left arm causing Danny's hands to clench a bit. The warm early afternoon sun was beating down on his head, and that headache was just growing and growing the more he stared at the wounds. He knew the kid was bruised on his chest from the two car wrecks he'd been in at that FEMA station, Danny had watched him wince and push through the pain as he helped to set up camp.
Danny's gaze slipped behind him to where he could see Shane limping slightly towards Rick. The tiny little limp, over exaggerated in Danny's opinion, and that fucking scratch on the top of his bald-ass head causing Danny's blood to fuckin' boil. Danny slipped his eyes back to Miles, shocked to find the kid peering at him from over his shoulder. Miles slipped his eyes back to the grass and Danny let out a sigh.
"You wanna talk 'bout it?" Danny asked, leaving it open-ended just like he'd learned to do watching Master Callie at work. He watched from the corner of his eye as the kid's face scrunched up for a moment before he schooled it. Oh yeah, Miles was good. He was learning his own tricks from the master herself. But he wasn't anywhere near good enough to fool someone who cared to really look.
And so Danny settled in and patiently waited for the kid to answer. He watched him shift uncomfortably a few times, watched him pick at a string on the ace bandage wrapped around his broken wrist, and finally watched him scowl. All of that happened in probably five or ten seconds, and it was quite possibly the longest fuckin' couple of seconds in Danny's life.
"'Bout what?" Miles said after that small moment and Danny's brows rose as he watched the kid's profile. This wasn't exactly what he foresaw happening. Then again, this whole covert operation type of shit had never been his style. Probably why he just wasn't as good at it as Callie was.
Danny drummed the fingers of his right hand along the fence as he continued to stare, hoping that it would somehow spark the kid into talking. And there was something brewing there, Danny could see it each and every time the kid slipped his eyes over to him. He wanted to talk. He just needed the right sort of prodding to do it.
Too bad it was Danny standing there and not Callie. Danny Murdock didn't do fuckin' subtlety.
"Let's see," Danny said finally lifting his fingers so he could tick off items. Miles' gaze slipped completely to him a brow raised expectantly as he waited. Danny grinned. "We could talk 'bout Jenna. Or 'bout how you been walkin' 'round with your spine so stiff I'm half expecting you to snap in half if you bend wrong. 'Bout the way a certain shaved-headed former sheriff's deputy has been dogging your steps. Or maybe 'bout how you pretty much ignored a grievin' widow when she asked you 'bout her husband's last moments." Danny watched the kid flinch and turn away and Danny nodded as he snapped his fingers. "There we go, that's the one."
"Ain't nothin' to talk about," Miles mumbled to his chest as he again began picking at the string on his bandaged hand. "Shane said it all, didn't he?" Danny shook his head, the look on the kid's face irking him that last little bit.
"Oh, fuck it, man." Danny slid closer and gave Miles a quick hit to his good arm. "What really happened out there Miles?" Miles went to open his mouth and Danny held up a hand. "And don't you pull that shit about you not seein' anything, and Shane already tellin' it like it was. I know you," Danny said quietly his face only an inch from the wide eyed stare of the kid beside him. "And unlike the lovely and yet oh-so-oblivious members of the Greene family, I know when you're lyin' boy."
Miles took in a deep breath in through his nose, his tongue darting out to wet his lip and Danny stepped back a bit. He watched Miles slip his eyes over the fence and then back over his shoulder towards the little memorial of rocks that they'd created for Otis. The kid's hands both began to clench and unclench as his shoulders lifted and fell with each breath, and Danny instantly felt bad for making him delve into something that he was obviously working hard to get past.
"Miles, you know I wouldn't normally press you on this." Danny said quietly, using whatever reserves of 'fatherly –tone' he had left. "I know you're old enough to handle your own shit in your own way. But somethin's eatin' at you. And that sort of shit can fog your brain and get you killed." Danny took a breath and ran his hand through is hair. "What happened?"
Another been of silence and Danny watched as the kid's shoulders slumped. Defeat was written across his features as he lowered his gaze to the wooden fence he had a white knuckle grip on.
"Shane," Miles started his voice barely above a whisper. Danny moved back in and put a hand to the kid's stiff shoulders.
"It's alright, man," Danny said quietly nodding his head, hoping that the kid wasn't about to tell him what he'd already half figured out. He really didn't want him and Callie to be right on this one.
"Hey there you are," Shane's voice slid over them like an ice bath on a hot day, the effect of it causing Miles to turn so fast he damn near knocked Danny to the ground. Danny grabbed onto the fence and turned from the wide eyed kid to where Shane stood behind them. Shane's hands were resting idly on Ben's shoulders, and Danny had the almost ridiculous urge to pull Ben away. "You were right, kid." Shane said as Ben tipped a smiling face up to him, obviously proud he was able to help. Shane returned the smile a bit and then instantly returned his gaze to the stiffened form of Miles. "We were lookin' for you. Lori said Carl was up, and me and Ben were gonna go see how he was doin' maybe play some cards if he was up for it. At least for a bit. Figured you'd wanna come," Shane slipped his eyes quickly over to Danny and then back to Miles. "I know Carl's gonna wanna see you. Seein' as you saved his life."
"I didn't-" Miles began his head shaking and eyes wide as he stared at the now grinning Shane. Idly, Danny was transported back in time to the first time he had seen Alice In Wonderland with Jake years and years ago and his instant unease when he saw the large grin of the Cheshire Cat.
Fuck, the way Shane was grinnin', Danny half expected his head to pop off and float around Miles' body while he continued talking.
"Sure you did," Shane said immediately bringing Danny back to the conversation and leaving his trippy dream of headless talking Shane far behind. "I wouldn't have made it without you man." Shane patted Ben's shoulders, the boy looking on proudly at Miles. Miles slipped his eyes down to Ben, and then back up to Shane. "You and me man. In the thick of it together."
"Ain't that somethin'," Danny muttered earning a quick bit of a glare from Shane. The moment was fleeting and Shane was instantly lookin' back at Miles just waiting for him to bite onto what he was throwing out. Danny almost snarled as he put a hand to Miles' arm. "You don't have to go in." The comment again had Shane shifting his attention to Danny, but this time Danny ignored him completely. "You and me can go somewhere and finish our talk, if you want."
"No I should go," Miles said stepping away and towards Shane and Ben. "I wanted to see Jen anyway," Miles said almost angrily. He reached out and grabbed Ben's arm dragging the boy in front of him and away from the stoic form of Shane.
Danny watched Miles stalk off with Ben, catching Shane half-turn to watch as well. When Miles made it far enough away, Danny slumped back against the fence, his crutch settled in tight to his body keeping him upright, while his hand idly rubbed at the bride of his nose. Closing his eyes Danny took a few breaths to try and steady his nerves.
"Everything okay, there, Danny-boy?" Shane's voice split into Danny's brain and had his eyes opening. "Miles a'right?"
"Yeah, he's just fuckin' peachy. Dealing with all this shit and Jenna. He's fan-fuckin-tastic."
"Just askin', Danny," Shane said tossing his hands up in surrender a slight smile riding his lips. "He saved my ass. I owe him. Wanted to know if there was anything I could do to help. Maybe talk to him," Danny didn't say anything just shook his head. He knew he was glaring when he saw Shane's grin slip to a scowl before he masked it again, this time with a mocking sort of concern riding his features. Shane stepped closer to Danny and Danny let his hand fall to his crutch. "You doin' okay, man?" Shane asked, putting his hand to Danny's tight shoulder. "Pain buggin' you? You need me to get you somethin'?"
Danny chuckled, he couldn't help it. He fuckin' chuckled loudly and shook his head as he stood up to his full height effectively dislodging Shane's unwelcome hand in the process.
"I'm good man," Danny waved his hand in the air in a dismissive manner and Shane smiled. "I just got this headache that won't go away, ya know?"
"Yeah," Shane said turning away from Danny and starting towards the house. "Better watch, those things can kill ya."
It was amazing how the words of a complete stranger could ring truer than those of the people you love and trusted most in the world.
You shouldn't be here.
Jenna's heart was hammering in her chest as she slipped her unsteady legs off of the edge of the bed and settled her bare feet to the ground. The pain in her wounded and infected leg was intense as she lifted just a bit to put pressure on her feet and she found herself easing her butt quickly back down to the mattress. Tears flooded her vision as the headache, which was at more of a debilitating migraine status now than simple headache level, pounded behind her eyes and deep in her temples.
You're a danger to everyone here. You shouldn't be here.
Angrily, Jenna pushed past the pain and once again got to her feet. She stood on her shaky legs for a moment assessing the situation. Her body was on fire; muscles burning with just the tiny bit of use they were getting keeping her upright. Her head was swimming and felt as if it were weighted down as she struggled to keep her eyes open and her chin from falling to her chest. Her throat was sore and each breath burned up and out in a stuttering rush; quick and painful. And worst of it, her entire body felt frail, as if her bones themselves had burnt to nothing more than ash and would break if she even tried to take a step.
It was unsettling to feel so dead on her feet. Jenna cracked a grin at her own oddly morbid pun.
"Jeeze Jenna," she muttered to herself. "That's not even a little funny."
You shouldn't be here.
Jenna shook her head slightly and ran her fingers through her sweat-damped hair, wincing at the feel of the strands pulling. When she felt a tangle of knots pull free and brought her hand back to look at her fingers she shuddered at the clump of loose red hair settled in her grip. Another blazing exhale sputtered out of her lips and she felt the burn of the tears streaking down her cheeks.
She shook her hand wildly for a moment, closing her eyes to the sight of the bunch of hair falling from her hands to the floor below. Her resolve renewed in that moment, her brittle spine stiffened as much as it could and her legs began to move in slow, painful steps turning her around. She smoothed her hands over the bedspread, and resettled the small note that she'd written upon the pillows.
Her eyes slipped to the stack of notebooks that Callie, Ben and Gracie had brought into her earlier. Thoughts of those two kids staring at her, both unable to hide the sadness that had been so clearly written on their faces broke into her foggy memory. She felt her hand begin to shake wildly as emotions coursed through her.
You're a danger to everyone here.
Memories of her friends, people she considered her family now, wavered in the depths of her brain and gave way to the image of the boy who had said those words to her. His lanky frame taking up the entire field of her vision as he stood a good two feet away from the edge of the bed and stared down at her. The door was ajar, letting in a bit of the sounds of the house, but her entire focus had been on the stranger who had crept into her room.
"You shouldn't be here," he said quietly his eyes not leaving her as she settled her notebook to her lap. "I know you're smart enough to know that. You're a danger to everyone here. You really think your people are gonna have the heart to take care of you when it happens," he paused and slipped his eyes to the doorway quickly before stepping closer. "You shouldn't be here when it happens. What if they can't do it? You wanna take out one of them too?" Jenna had just stared at him while he took a few stuttering steps towards her, as if he was afraid to get too close. "You shouldn't be here."
Jenna had opened her mouth to retort, but before she could Carol had come back with the glass of water she'd gone to fetch.
"You shouldn't be in here," Carol said immediately her tone icy and firm. Her words echoed the boy's and caused Jenna's eyes to snap to her. The older woman was glaring at the boy whose eyes had widened to an almost saucer-like size at being caught. "You," Carol pointed a finger at the boy and advanced. "You need to leave. Now."
With that the boy had pushed past Carol in a rush of embarrassment and left Jenna to stare after him. Carol had sat down with her at that point, asking questions of if she was okay, and what the boy had wanted. And even though Jenna had wanted to tell the woman, the way Carol's hand had hesitated before she placed in on Jenna's arm had her shaking her head and saying nothing.
Jenna shook her head at the memory and pushed herself up to stand painfully beside the bed. She turned away from her stack of notebooks and the note on the pillow and made her way slowly towards the window. Her fingers trailed along the sill for a moment as she stared out into the slowly creeping evening, the low hues of dusk had settled around them leaving the back of the house bathed in an odd shadows that stretched for miles.
Pushing her fear aside Jenna opened the window, wincing in pain at the movement and seething between her teeth at the sound of the slow creaking hinges. Her eyes skipped over her shoulder to the shut door, and hoped that her feigned sleep would keep Callie or whoever else was on 'death watch' away long enough for her to follow through with what she had planned.
The boy's words had sparked something inside of her, the thought of what would happen if she turned and it was Miles sitting with her. What if he couldn't do what needed to be done? Then she thought about Callie and her poor spirit, already broken down from the numerous people she'd had to put down to this disease. Why give her one more face to haunt her night after night? Then she thought about herself, how she'd left Sophia behind at that church. How she had planned to run herself far enough into the woods, away from the girl and their friends, so that when she turned they would hopefully never see her wandering lifeless corpse.
That had been her plan. And that would stay her plan.
Jenna slipped her head out the window, closing her eyes and relishing the cool feel of the early autumn air hitting her fevered skin. That cool breeze helped to focus her mind, and readied her for what needed to be done. Looking down Jenna took a deep breath and then worked her legs painfully and slowly out the window. As she went, she turned so that her feet dangled just above the ground, and her eyes again roamed the room.
"Thank you," she said to the room as if the house would relay the message to its owners. She smiled one last time at her notebooks sitting in the pool of yellow light provided by that small desk lamp, the silver gleam of Callie's Fat Lady settled right on top like a sick little paperweight.
Jenna let go of the sill and landed hard on the ground. Her legs instantly crumbled beneath her as pain laced through her body. Sheer force of will and her hand clasped over her mouth muffled the piercing sound of her pained scream.
Her fingers shook wildly over her trembling lips as she stared at the grass in front of her in her crouched position, her brain registering only one thing. Her foot. An incredulous stuttering laugh escaped between her fingers. She'd been right about her bones. The foot of her infected right leg had crunched in so sickening a manner when she hit the ground that the meager contents of her stomach had lurched into her throat in protest. The pain of that brake-the shattering really- of so many small bones, added to everything else going on in her body almost had her falling to the ground and crying.
Almost.
A shuffling noise caught her attention and had her sliding wild eyes up to the edge of the house at her right. The boy stood there bathed in the shadows created by the slowly descending sun. His mouth twitched to the side as he bit at the inside of his cheek and regarded her with a look she couldn't read. Her hand fell from her lips to push herself up from the ground, but she had no strength and merely slumped forward as he watched.
"Ya ain't gonna make it far on your own," he said quietly obviously trying to keep his presence a secret from the rest of the house. "I can help you. Know a good place; a nice place you could go." He stepped forward and Jenna felt a bit of apprehension slide over her sickened body; chills that had nothing to do with the infection shivering up the base of her spine with each step he took. "My family," he stopped a couple of feet from her and blinked a few times, his eyes heading towards the outstretched land behind the house. "It's the place they all went. I'll take ya if you want."
Jenna stared for a bit, but then let her head nod once and watched in mild awe as he closed the distance between them and reached down to help her up.
Jenna had often dreamed of sneaking out of her room and meeting some boy for a clandestine rendezvous. And the irony of this situation was not lost on her as she felt his hand grab roughly at her arm and pull her up to her feet. He gave no mind to her whimpers of pain as he pulled her arm over his shoulder and walked steadily at almost too fast a pace towards the waiting blue pickup. She couldn't help but shake her head and wonder at what her father would think of how this all turned out. As the boy quietly opened the passenger door for her and pushed her towards it, she stopped him and finally caught his eyes with hers. She was simply unable to let this go any further without knowing.
"What's your name?" she asked quietly, staring up into his eyes. Searching them for the real reason behind his actions.
"Jimmy."
Callie settled her aching body into the soft well-worn cushion of the chair and let out a long sigh. Her fingers of her right hand drummed along her thigh while her left worked at a frayed edge of the red rag hanging out of the pocket of her jeans. A small smirk rode her lips as she looked down at that rag and remembered finding it hours upon hours ago.
She'd been grabbing Jenna's notebooks and had started up the Hummer to try and get a feel for how the gas level was. She knew it should be about half full still, even with all the back and forth on the highway that Glenn had done, and she'd been surprised when the vehicle had started and then sputtered to a stop. She repeated the action, twice catching the gage lift barely above the first line. That's when Miles had called for her and she'd stuck her head out the window to see the boy propped by the gas cap, or where the gas cap should have been. She'd exited the Hummer and just stared at that fucking red rag as it blew slightly in the wind. Pulling out the rag she'd clenched it in her fist and shifted her eyes to Miles as he kicked a suspiciously full gas can sitting not so far off near Merle's bike.
"I was wonderin' what he was doin'," Miles said watching as Callie pocketed the rag. She put her hands into her back pockets and rocked back on her heels as she continued to stare at the gas can at the kid's feet. "Guess this is his not so subtle way of tellin' you to stay put, huh?"
"Yeah, something like that." Callie said nodding. It wasn't as if she couldn't just fill it back up; the man wasn't stupid enough to make it so she couldn't make an escape if she needed to. But the message was loud and clear. He didn't trust her ass as far as he could throw her. "Smart-ass motherfucker."
At that point she'd walked away, figuring she'd have a few choice words for Mr. Dixon when his ass got back.
Callie's fingers drummed on her leg a bit more as she stared out the window into the darkness that had fallen almost too quickly around them. And even though she knew she shouldn't be worrying, she couldn't help it. But honestly, worrying about Daryl fucking Dixon traipsing around the woods was like worrying about a fish drowning in water. It was just that the way things had been going for them all lately had her expecting the worst.
Waiting for the worst.
Shaking her head, Callie tried to forget about her inane worry and get her mind back into the present, and the much avoided conversation she was about to enter into. Her eyes roamed around the simple home office of Dr. Hershel Greene, D.V.M., and she couldn't help but smile. Her brother had an office like this back at his little house in Savannah. Her eyes slipped around the dark wood furniture, the oddly upholstered chairs and small couch. She took in the dusty placards and frames holding awards, accreditations and degrees and couldn't help but smile. The accomplished Dr. Hershel Greene, D.V.M, apparently.
On the desk her eyes caught on a framed photo, half turned towards her. She leaned forward and pushed the photo so that she could look at it. It looked to be a few years old, but she was instantly able to pick out the smiling faces of Beth and Maggie. The girls were settled on the front steps of the porch here, and squished between them was a smiling boy with dirty blonde hair like Beth's. He looked to be a few years older than Beth, but at that point of adolescence it was really hard to figure age for sure. Standing behind them was Hershel; Callie almost didn't recognize the man. The smile on his face seemed so relaxed and easy, but the sight of it was so foreign to Callie that she did a bit of a double take at it. His large arm was around a woman, her hair a slightly darker tone than Beth's and the boy settled beside her.
Their mother? His wife?
Idly Callie wondered where the woman and the boy were now. A flash of memory had her brow narrowing. The image of Beth's horror-stricken features when she walked in and saw that Jenna was infected. The moment of realization that these people had in fact lived through some of the horror of the world around them. Callie tapped her finger on the desk in front of the photo and bit at the inside of her cheek.
The sound of the office door creaking open had Callie slipping back into her seat and her eyes sliding over her shoulder.
"But dad," Beth's voice echoed around in the room and Callie worked to suppress her smirk. She knew that whining tone well. "He's just—" the girl's voice cut off and Callie could just make out Hershel's elbow popping around the door. "You can't be angry with him. He's tryin' so hard. He just needs time to process-"
"I well understand that Beth," Hershel's powerful voice, embedded with that deep Southern gentleman charm boomed out. "But he needs to learn that he can't just go off on his own without tellin' anyone. That is not something I will tolerate in this house, especially now."
"But," Beth started again and by this time Hershel had worked his way fully into the office and his hard, heavily browed eyes settled right on Callie's smiling face. Turning slightly to his daughter who had worked in after him but hadn't yet noticed Callie's presence, he spoke in a low authoritative tone. "We can discuss this later."
"He was tryin' to apologize, daddy," Beth's little whining tone had Callie smiling again and Hershel gave a very fatherly sigh of frustration and exhaustion.
"Elizabeth. Later." Hershel's eyes skipped from his daughter to the guest in his office and finally Beth seemed to get the picture. Her eyes slipped from her father's face to where Callie was sitting and Callie couldn't help waving a single finger at her.
"Oh," Beth said quietly, her mouth hitching in an embarrassed half-smile. "Hi Callie."
"Beth," Callie nodded and smiled at the girl. She watched as Beth handed over the plate and cup she'd apparently been holding hostage in order to talk to her father and gave one more apologetic look to her slightly amused looking father. Callie shifted in her seat and watched as Hershel closed the door with a sigh. The man stared at the door for a moment, his hands gripping the plate of food and glass of water, before he turned with a wide eyed sort of flabbergasted expression that had Callie smiling and watching him expectantly.
"I had Maggie fix you a plate," Hershel said letting out another sigh as he worked his way towards his desk. He set the plate on the desk and skipped his eyes to the photo that Callie had turned. Callie raised her hand and tried to wave off the plate, only to have the man wave her off and settle his hand at the back of his neck, his eyes skimming over the gun settled in her jeans. "I will not have you passin' out on me again. I'm a bit tired. So indulge me in this if you please."
Callie sighed and grabbed a biscuit off of the plate holding it up to the now smirking Hershel. She tore off a piece and let it melt in her mouth before chewing a bit. Hershel gave her a small smile and nodded as he moved around to sit at the chair behind his desk. His body slumped and as Callie worked on her biscuit she realized just how tired the man actually looked. Running around fixing up all the broken people of her group, performing surgery on a boy in his house, losing one of his own, and taking in a dying girl.
Honestly she was surprised the poor fucking guy was holding up as well as he was. Credit where credit was due, she couldn't help but respect the man.
"I want to apologize for," he waved a large hand around in the air, "That," Hershel finished tiredly. His brow rose a bit in exasperation that only a parent could really understand. He reached out and fixed the photo that Callie had been looking at, his eyes skipping up to her briefly as he did it. Callie leaned back, leaving her plate on the desk and continued to pick at her biscuit.
"Nothing to apologize for," Callie said quietly, watching his eyes skip up to her over the desk. "You have two very strong-willed girls on your hands. I can relate, from a standpoint of being one myself. If that's as bad as you got it," Callie tossed a thumb towards the door. "Ya got off a bit easy."
"Yes well," Hershel said with slight hitch to his brow as he watched her pick at her biscuit. He leaned forward and tipped the plate towards her and she smirked. "I am well aware of my own downfalls and utter lack of sense when it comes to parenting girls, but I do feel I've come a long way in the twenty-some years I've been doing it." Callie smiles and pops the rest of her biscuit into her mouth, watching Hershel's eyes again skip to the photo on his desk. "However I find myself treading into new territory with a boy so keen to prove himself to me at every turn living under my roof."
"I can see how that'd be difficult," Callie said inching forward and grabbing the cup of water from the desk. "From what I remember, most boys will go to great lengths to prove themselves worthy in the eyes of their girl's daddy. My own ex joined the army to win approval. I can only imagine the lengths a boy will go when he's living under the man's roof, especially in times like these."
"Let's just say that in these times, I'd wish him prove the smarter man rather than the stronger," Hershel said quietly shaking his head slightly. "A fact that has not seemed to have dawned on the boy as of yet."
"'A boy doesn't have to go to war to be a hero; he can say he doesn't like pie when he sees there isn't enough to go 'round'," Callie quoted earning a warm smile from the man across from her. He nodded his head and she smiled widely remembering the many times her aunt Katie had said that to her. "He's young, and fancies himself in love," Callie said smiling at the inane bit of conversation they were having. "Just wait until your little lovebirds realize they aren't."
"God help me then," Hershel said and Callie chuckled. She saluted him with her water and then took a sip, watching as he fidgeted slightly behind his desk. A beat of silence fell around them as they both tried to figure out exactly how to start the conversation that apparently they'd both been avoiding. "About your girl," Hershel began after another beat, and Callie couldn't help but love the man who apparently knowing the value of cutting to the chase. He lifted his eyes to her and let out a long sigh. "I wanted to first apologize for the way my Beth reacted to Jenna's illness."
"No apology necessary," Callie said a bit taken aback by the odd choice of words. She furrowed her brow and settled her cup at her knee. "The world is a scary place now, Hershel. She has every right to be afraid."
"Yes, well, the world today set aside," Hershel began in very firm tone that had Callie straightening just a bit in her chair as she regarded the stoic man. "I feel this disease has been met with enough fear and hatred to last us another ten lifetimes. That is not the way I have brought my girls to act, and it was most assuredly not something you or Jenna needed to be exposed to at the time."
"I appreciate that, Hershel." Callie said quietly, before leaning forward and placing her cup up on the desk. Hershel watched her movements with a slightly wary eye, shaking his head when she pushed the plate out of the way in order to settle her hands on the desk.
"As for Jimmy's intruding upon Jenna's room earlier," Hershel said shaking his head.
"Let's just say I accept your apology and stop filling the room with useless prattle, shall we." Callie said a bit irked. That boy's intrusion had been beyond rude and had left a sour taste in Callie's mouth from the instant Carol told her of it. Especially since Jenna had flat-out refused to tell her what the boy had wanted. Good God then she'd had to bodily hold Miles back from going after the kid. "I don't think either of us the type to beat around the bush. And honestly, I'd like to get back to Jenna and my kids."
"Well," Hershel said leaning back just a bit in his chair and lifting a brow at her. "One parent to another, I can understand that." He slipped forward and interlocked his fingers as he stared at her over the desk. "I want you to understand that I am not tryin' to force my own beliefs upon you. You are free to leave and take care of this as you will. But knowing that your group is planning on stayin' until you find your missing girl and Carl is up on his feet, I will ask that you hear me out."
"I have no problem with your beliefs," Callie said raising a hand to the space between them in surrender. "And I have no problem hearing you out," Callie said smirking just a bit. "In spite of what my avoidance of you may or may not have led you to believe. I do respect your opinion, especially as a doctor. But really, I'm not sure what beliefs or anything really has to do with this. The choice is Jenna's to make. Not yours. Not mine. Not anyone's."
"But has she been given a choice?" Hershel asked quietly raising his own hand to the air. "Or has she just been led to believe that death is the only way."
"I'm sorry," Callie shook her head and blinked her eyes a couple of times, trying to push away the dizziness that the movement caused and refocus on the man, the fucking doctor, sitting across from her. "No offense, Hershel, but unless you and your people have concocted some kind of cure to this disease here," she wiggled her fingers in the air. "Which I don't find hard to believe in this little piece of heaven inside of hell that you've managed to create. Death is the only way I know of."
"That is exactly the type of close-minded, fearful thinking that has brought this upon us," Hershel said with a dismissive and angry wave. Callie's brows rose and her mouth opened and closed a few times as she watched the man shake his head.
"You've talked to Rick," Callie said quietly gaining his attention again, her own confusion causing her voice to stutter a bit. She blinked a few times and shook her head trying to clear it as she watched the man across from her, the fucking doctor across from her, raise a brow. Callie's brow furrowed more and she leaned closer to help physically bridge this apparent gap in understanding that they had with one another. "You know we've been to the CDC right? That there is no one left; no one working on this anymore. That there is no cure. That-"
"Yes, Rick has explained your group's venture into the CDC," Hershel said tiredly his head still shaking. "It does not change how I feel about the choices that the girl lying in that room has been given." He let out a breath.
"What other choice would you have me give her?" Callie said as calmly as she could but she could hear her voice raising to a higher level with each word. "To wander about the world as a Walker?"
"As a person," Hershel said in a low tone that Callie almost missed. Almost. Her brow narrowed further and she felt her jaw go slack but before she could form words Hershel was continuing. "Have you asked if that is what she wants? Are you positive, absolutely positive, that she wants to die that way? That she wants to take her own life and deny herself-" he cut himself off and shook his head, apparently losing his own train of thought as his eyes slipped again to the photo on the desk. "Euthanasia is not a practice I can condone. Ever."
"Before," Callie said, her voice regaining a bit of normalcy as she worked to understand the man sitting with her. Worked to figure out what exactly he was saying. "When Rick and Lori were waiting for the equipment necessary to perform the surgery Carl needed," Callie continued watching Hershel's brows raise as he listened attentively to her. "You told them that they had a choice, right? That it was up to them whether they let you try without the equipment or whether they felt it better to let nature run its course. How is their choice to end their son's suffering by allowing him to die any different than what Jenna's choosin' for herself?"
Hershel stared at her for a moment, his brows furrowed so that the heavy patches of hair on his brow shadowed his eyes completely.
"The difference is," Hershel began slowly, that firm tone of his settling over her with each word. She didn't need to see in those shadowy depths to know that she'd hit some kind of chord in the man."Rick was not putting a gun in his boy's hand or to his boy's head. He was allowing, as you yourself said, 'nature to run its course'."
"The end result of this disease is anything but natural, Dr. Greene," Callie said spitefully. "I know you know that." Her hands flew around the room idly indicating the many awards and plaques. "Somewhere in that obviously brilliant mind of yours you have to know that."
He stared at her for a moment, his eyes searching hers as if to read her mind. She stared back, trying to work out his thoughts. It was obvious that both of them failed.
"I believe we have reached an impasse," Hershel said in finally in return, his body sliding back so that his back pressed hard into the leather cushion of the chair he was in. His palms were flat on the desk as he stared at Callie, and Callie couldn't help but stare in wonder at him.
A beat of silence fell over them and finally Callie let out a long low sigh, her eyes holding with Hershel's as she stood.
"I suppose we have," Callie said quietly watching Hershel stand as well. "I'll gather Jenna and-"
A knock at the door cut off Callie and had both of them shifting their attention to the quickly opening door. Maggie stood breathless at the entry, her fingers wrapped around the door as her eyes slipped from Callie to her father in an agitated manner. Instantly Callie's blood ran cold, her worry for Daryl coming to the forefront of her mind. Maggie's eyes slipped from Callie again to her father before she spoke.
"Maggie, I asked for us to not be interrupted," Hershel said sternly, but even Callie could hear the worry in his voice.
"I know," Maggie said almost dismissively as she looked back to Callie. "But—" she licked her lips and shook her head. "It's Jenna." Callie's legs buckled a bit and she was lucky her hands were still planted firmly enough on the desk to hold her up. Hershel must have noticed her slight movement because he made his way quickly around and grabbed a hold of her elbow to steady her on her feet. "She's gone."
Callie's hand went to her gun settled in its usual place at the front of her jeans and Hershel's eyes hardened on her for a moment before slipping back to her daughter.
"No," Maggie said lifting a hand to stay Callie's. "She's not in her room. She's missing."
I wanna die without pain, yeah
I wanna die, oh without pain
All this deception, I just can't maintain
The sun, moon, stars in the sky
It'd hurt me too bad if you said goodbye
Lies, lies, lies, ohh, lies
~Lies / The Black Keys
AN: Yeah, there was a lot of shit all up in this chapter. I hope this turned out well, I've actually been avoiding the confrontation between Callie and Hershel as much as the characters. Jeeze, that was HARD to write. I'm trying to not Hershel get out of character but this whole Jenna thing…shit it's throwing everyone through a loop, huh?
So I've decided to do something a bit off the beaten path here with my boy Jimmy…'cause seriously I'm not one to waste a character when I'm tossed one. I can only hope you guys like what I do here. Let me hear it, peeps!
So ya know we're gonna do a bit of backtrackin', 'cause it's apparently my favorite form of torture for you guys. Fair warning here.
Much love!
See ya next chapter!
*Oh and for anyone wondering, Callie's quote about boy's not having to go to war is credited to Edgar Watson Howe. ;)