New Meanings To Old Words: Love
First and foremost, I wanted to give a quick shout out to all the newbies that have added this and NM: SAFE to their favorites/alerts/what-have-yous. I love getting those alerts and also love when I see people give into that unrelenting urge to leave me a little note 'bout what they're reading. I LOVE YOU ALL, and WELCOME to the crazy…that said-
CLUSTERFUCK AHOY! That's your warning folks. We're gonna be moving around and jumpin' and dancing to the beat of my crazy ass drum. So… if you get lost along the way, send me a note/ leave me a review and I'll work to clear it up for you. (Dude, that fuckin' rhymed *facepalm*)…
As always read, review and most of all enjoy the ride!
~michelle
Disclaimer: I own nothing, except Callie and the crew of misfits (Danny, Miles, Jenna, Mike, Nina, Ben and Gracie)
Trust In Me
Callie woke to the slight tinkling sound of metal hitting off of metal.
Her bleary eyes blinked open and then squeezed tightly shut as the pain of her fucking never ending migraine pounded back into existence. God, she was beginning to think she'd taken the header down a ridge and a bullet to the head with the way her head was pounding. Speaking of…
Callie shifted and groaned at the twinge of pain in her back and shoulders. She'd apparently fallen asleep on her stomach after a less than restful night with Daryl. Not that she was complainin'. No, not one fuckin' bit of complainin' coming out of her mouth at that. But after what she could only call the best fucking workout of her life, and sleeping so long on her stomach, she'd put a good strain on her lower back. Callie groaned unattractively as her head rolled along Daryl's arm, which had apparently been stretched out as a pillow for her the whole time, and glared at the man.
He shifted a bit as she rolled her body a bit along with her head and tugged her closer into his uninjured side, confirming the fact that he was in fact fully awake and had been for some time. He didn't spare her a glance as her eyes hit him he just continued to stare at Bobby's dog tags as he twisted the chain between two fingers. She watched the tags dance around in the air, lightly hitting off each other with each twist of his fingers. Her fingers slid along his bandaged midsection for a minute, her face contorting at the flash of brownish-red that had seeped through, before letting her eyes slip back to the dog tags.
"You were gonna go," Daryl said quietly his eyes still on the tags he was twirling over his chest. His eyes still didn't skip to her as she shifted to look up at his face, but she saw the muscle in his jaw tick twice with the few unsaid words he was holding in. She waited, and he finally shifted his eyes to her a single brow sliding up. "You were gonna go."
"Is that supposed to be a question," Callie returned lifting a brow of her own as she shifted slightly in his arms. "Of course I was." She finished and Daryl stopped twirling the dog tags finally looking down at her.
"But?" he asked that bit of a knowing smirk tilting his lips and making her smile.
"Well, despite what you may think," Callie said as she slipped up and settled on her elbow beside him. "I'm not stupid enough to go out on my own chasing after someone that's probably not even there."
"You callin' me stupid, girl?" Daryl shot back gruffly as he shifted away to let her sit up.
"If the boot fits," Callie said quietly and was rewarded with a gruff stare and a huff from the man in bed with her. Callie sighed and sat up fully next to him one hand holding the sheet in place over her chest while the other raked through her hair as she stretched her sore back. She felt Daryl's stare on her as she moved, his eyes moving over her bare back as she shifted.
"You're gettin' comfortable here," Daryl said sliding one finger down her spine catching on the long scar that started at the middle of her back and ran down the right side of her spine before it hooked over her hip. He hadn't asked about it before, but she could feel the burning question on his lips.
"Broken car window," Callie said as she slipped her eyes over her shoulder catching his interested raised brow. "Danny's first and thankfully last attempt at stitches." Daryl nodded his head, as his eyes and finger continued to trail down the large angry area of puckered skin. "As for my comfort," Callie said her lips twitching into a smirk. "Ya kinda wore me out, Dixon."
"Warned you what was gonna happen if your ass kept wakin'me up. So don't blame me for your lack of a brain, sweetheart." Daryl said as he lifted the sheet to show his boxers off. She tossed up her middle finger at him and he chuckled a bit before settling the sheet down again and piercing her with a look. "You wanna stay here. At the farm."
"Rick does," Callie said with a shrug and Daryl scoffed at her as he twisted a bit to get into a sitting position. Callie tugged the sheet back to her breasts and scooted away when he made a quick grab for her, leaving him sitting on the bed in his boxers as she stood beside it in only the sheet. "He's been talking to Hershel about it. But it's not an easy sell," Callie said as she watched Daryl lay back down, his left hand holding Bobby's dog tags and twirling them over his chest again as he stared at them.
"S'why you two been diggin' into maps every other fuckin' second," Daryl ground out as he stared at the tags. Callie nodded and shifted around to the foot of the bed to where their clothes had been discarded.
"Part of it," Callie said quietly as she dipped down to slide on her bra and pick up a shirt. "We've also been tryin' to figure out where Sophia is. You and Glenn seriously did cut the map in half finding that trail, Daryl. We're gonna find her soon. I can feel it." Daryl grunted out his reply as she stood back up. She shifted the blue shirt up and around her shoulders letting the sheet fall.
"Fuck girl, this ain't some damn swap-meet. Wear your own fuckin' clothes," Daryl growled at her, but it was half-hearted as he watched her slowly slide her underwear back into place before starting to button the shirt from bottom to top. "Fuck, woman." Daryl growled out low in his throat as he sat up bracing himself on his elbows to be able to watch her better.
"Shut up," Callie spat back as she buttoned, feeling his eyes as they slipped up with each button she did up. "You're never gonna wear it again and you know it. And you were the one complainin' about me not havin' enough cooler weather clothes, so..."
"Bitch," Daryl snarled as she finished doing up the buttons to the middle of her chest. She sat down on the bed at that point and settled her face into her hands. She felt his stare roam over her shoulders and heard him begin to shift towards her. "Ya a'right?"
"Just tired," Callie said slipping her hands up her face and into her hair. Despite all the sleep she'd just gotten, disjointed as it was, she felt just so very fucking tired, and lost. And her head was pounding harder with each blink of her eyes. Daryl scooted further up and settled in beside her his hand stretching out to her and then pulling back. "I'm fine," Callie said as she turned to face him.
"Maybe you should hang back today," Daryl said finally giving up on his tough guy ruse and reaching out to put his hand to her forehead. His brow furrowed and he glared at her. "You're warm. Calamity Jane mouthed-off somethin''bout an infection." His gaze slipped to her left hand and he reached for just as she shifted it away. She gave him a smile and then got up to go find her jeans.
"Maggie," Callie said and he huffed out a breath and rolled his eyes. She smiled and patted his hand "I'm fine, really." She pulled away from him and glared when he reached out again. "Quit it. I'm fine. It's fine. I just want to find them." Callie shifted her eyes over to the chair where her brother's photo album sat and then back to Daryl who was grumbling angry as he shifted to pick up his pants and slide them on. "Rick and I think Danny's boy might be with Bobby." She sighed and picked up her pants sliding them onto her legs. "Wherever the fuck they are."
"S'what Danny said," Daryl said the agitation clear in his voice even as he tried to shake it off. He got slowly to his feet and stumbled a bit as he buttoned and zipped his fly. His hands flew out to the side at the sight of the clothes scattered about messily on the floor and he let out a disgruntled sigh that she couldn't help but laugh at.
"Just come get a fresh shirt, dumbass." She said chuckling a bit when he angled his narrowed gaze over at her. "You got all your bags in here thanks to Ben." Callie said kicking the bags. "Mine are still in the tent. Very thoughtful of you to think of me."
"Ain't stayin' in here much longer," Daryl grumbled as he slipped forward and snatched the compass off the window sill before stalking towards her. "Figured if you planned on stayin' you could grab your own shit. Again, don't blame me for your lack of brain, sweetheart."
"Such a sweetheart," Callie said as she tucked in the right side of her shirt—his shirt- and settled her gun into place. Daryl smirked at her and grabbed her belt loop tugging her forward, his eyes settled at her waistband.
"We'll go look," Daryl said as he clipped the compass to her jeans with the small carabiner clip attached to the end of it. "You and me. Once we get all this shit settled here. After we get Sophia back and figure out what the fuck we're doin', we'll go look." He paused then and pulled her closer, lowering his gaze to catch hers. "You an' me."
"And Miles," Callie said quietly her fingers trailing over his bare chest and shoulders before falling to her sides. His brow narrowed and she caught his gaze and held it. "I promised to take him. He wants to go."
"Kid wants to get away," Daryl said quietly his eyes sliding off of hers and down to where his fingers were tapping on the compass. "There's a difference."
"Either way," Callie said quietly as she slipped past him and settled on the bed to put on her boots. She got to her feet, and then closed her eyes in an effort to control the pounding behind her lids. She felt Daryl's glare as he watched her work to gather herself, and was silently thankful for his 'I'm only gonna say it once then it's your fuckin' funeral' type of attitude when it came to fucking common sense. She opened her eyes speared him with a small smile and grabbed her photo album from the chair. She made her way towards the door and heard him shuffling around behind her. He had followed her for a few steps then stopped, settling himself back onto the bed and letting out a sigh as he rubbed at his sore side. She'd put her hand to the knob and turned back just in time to see him slip Bobby's dog tags over his head and around his neck. She smiled tightly at him. "We'll go together. You, me and Miles."
He stared at her for a minute, the door cracked open leading to the main portion of a house that she hated to admit she was becoming attached to. His mouth twitched to the side and he ran his hand through his own messy head of hair before nodding idly.
"Ain't wrong to settle in a bit, Callie," Daryl said quietly his eyes lifting from his bare feet to where she still stood at the cracked open door. "Little comfort; little time to collect yourself," he paused and scratched at his bare chest where Bobby's tags had settled and then at the bandages around his midsection. "Fuck, you push yourself any harder you're gonna get yourself killed."
"Jesus, you really did hit your head hard on those rocks." Callie said as she sent him a small smirk. He shook his head and glared at her. "All these damn pots and kettles livin' together. Fuckin' sinful," she'd mumbled earning an odd look of frustration from the half-dressed man settled on the bed. The dog tags dangling around his neck panged some strange sort of feeling in her that she pushed down for the moment.
"Just 'cause you ain't out there every day-"
"I know," Callie said with a nod and a smile. "I know." She turned away from him at that point and opened the door fully. Before she left she turned back and smiled. "I'll be careful. No more stupid moves." She caught his unbelieving eye and crossed her fingers over her heart. "I promise, Daryl. No more stupid moves."
She held his gaze for a moment and then left him there to digest her words, her promise. She slipped the photo album into the waistband of her jeans at the small of her back and rubbed at her temple as she made her way towards the front door.
"Callie," Beth's timid voice echoed out and Callie shifted to watch the girl and Patricia slip up from their seated position in the sitting room. Beth exchanged a glance with Patricia and the elder woman placed a hand to the girl's shoulder.
"Somethin' I can do for you?" Callie asked as her eyes skipped from Patricia to Beth. Callie shifted and crossed her arms over her chest, raising a single brow as Patricia smiled slightly at her. There was something behind the eyes of both Patricia and Beth, something that pulled at Callie and had her stepping a bit closer and helping to bridge that gap between them. "What's wrong?"
"We want to come with you today." Patricia said very calmly, her chin tilting up as her eyes held Callie's with a strength that could only demand respect. Callie's eyes slipped to Beth who squared her own thin shoulders and nodded once. "We need to learn how to defend ourselves. Otis was the only one who knew guns and now-"
"I'm sorry it's not my call," Callie said quietly her eyes shifting over Beth's head to the stairs.
"We were hopin' you'd talk to daddy," Beth said, her face betraying her for a minute and allowing the sheepish look she'd been pushing down to shine through. She grimaced a bit and Callie's brows rose a bit more in shock. "He respects you. He'll listen to you."
Callie again tipped her eyes over Beth's shoulder and stared back into the quiet house. Her eyes skipped back to the room she'd just left Daryl in, his words about comfort and settling in echoing loudly between her ears. With a long sigh Callie let her arms fall and she speared Patricia and then Beth with a quick look.
"I'm not makin' any promises." Callie said, as both women smiled widely and nodded.
Callie slipped her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and rocked back on her heels as she stared at the degrees and accreditation on the white-washed walls of Hershel's office. Her eyes slipped over the neatly hung frames; a few holding newspaper articles neatly clipped and mounted, and a few holding photos with friends or clients.
She smiled a bit as the newly risen sun filtered in through the large window behind his desk and illuminated the frames. Not a bit of dust, not a streak or a smudge upon the glass. Clean and pristine; honored now even as the world in which those photos were taken crumbled to dust around them.
The creaking of the floorboards had Callie's eyes slipping from her inspection of the photos and over to the door. Hershel stood frozen with what she could only assume was shock written across his heavy features, his hand still settled to the door knob. Callie shifted her attention back to the frames along the wall and listened to the man let out a small huff as he slipped all the way into his office. She peered at him again as he stopped at his desk, staring down at the two mugs of steaming coffee settled there.
"This is becoming a bit of a bad habit for you," Hershel said with a sigh as he settled his hands on the desk and stared at the mugs. His eyes slipped over and caught on the small black photo album beside one of the mugs and Callie turned just as his fingers began towards it.
"Beth let me in," Callie said quietly turning back to her inspection of the wall.
"Yes well, I will have to have a conversation with her about that later," Callie skipped her eyes to him and smiled while he raised a brow. "Was there something I could do for you?" Callie stared at him, watching him shift his hand away from the album and back to his pants where he wiped it idly as he looked over at her. She smiled again and he let out a sigh. "If it's about what I think it is, I should tell you that I've already spoken to Rick about your group's stayin'. Ad nauseam," Hershel added with a long lingering sigh that had Callie chuckling a bit.
Callie held Hershel's gaze for a long moment before shaking her head and shifting her eyes back to the frames along the wall.
"He's a determined man," Callie said with a small smile still tilting her lips. "Almost to a fault." Callie shifted her eyes over to the older man quickly and back to the wall. "I'm not here about that. I figure you'll make your decision when you're ready to."
"Is something wrong with your man, Daryl?" Hershel asked, his voice taking on an edge of worry that had Callie instantly shaking her head. "Are you alright?" Hershel asked finally his feet stepping around the desk a bit and towards her. His eyes roamed over her in Daryl's blue dress shirt, her gun settled in its usual spot and her boots tied loosely around her ankles. Callie let silence fill the space between them for a moment and then slipped her hands out of her pockets and waved idly at the collection she'd been staring at for over an hour.
"My brother's a doctor," Callie began quietly, hearing more than seeing Hershel's footsteps instantly come to an abrupt end. She didn't turn to face him just continued to wave her hands towards the frames. "My dad was too. Both were career military men, both the type to go above and beyond."
"I don't know you well," Hershel said quietly causing her eyes to slide to him. "But I feel safe in sayin' the apple hasn't fallen too far from the tree with regards to you, Callie." She chuckled and nodded a bit as he regarded her with a questioning gaze.
"My dad and brother had offices just like this," Callie continued waving her hand around. "I feel comfortable here, and I can tell you do as well." Callie turned from the frames and faced the man still standing by his desk and waved a hand to the desk. "I was hoping we could chat for a minute."
"I don't believe that there's anything-"
"Patricia and Beth want to come out shooting with us today," Callie said cutting him off and causing his brows to rise almost comically on his face. "You wanna sit down and have that coffee now?"
"Patricia and Beth," Hershel repeated his eyes sliding back to the slightly ajar door as Callie slipped towards the desk and picked up her mug of coffee. His eyes came back to her and he shook his head watching her hide her smile behind the mug. "I now see why Beth didn't tell me you were in here."
"She's frightened." Callie said her smile falling as she lowered her cup. Hershel put his hands to his hips and stared at her. "They both are."
"They're not frightened of me," Hershel said in a matter-of-fact tone and Callie gave a sad little smirk.
"I didn't say they were," Callie said quietly. Hershel shifted on his feet and she let out a sigh realizing the man wouldn't be sitting for this conversation. Callie settled her mug back to the desk and tapped her hands on the photo album. "Your family is lovely. Inside and out," Callie said tapping her fingers along the leather and feeling the older man's gaze upon her knuckles. "They want to know how to protect themselves," Callie said quietly lifting her eyes to his. "I'm not going to venture into guessing why, I'd suspect Patricia's mention of Otis being the only one who knew guns to be a half-truth at best." Hershel regarded her with one raised brow and a slightly off-putting look that had her nodding. "I'm not going to try and tell you what you should or shouldn't do with your people. I'm just going to ask you to consider it. Especially now."
Hershel stared at Callie for a long moment his jaw clenching a bit and his fingers flexing as he struggled with the thoughts in his head. Finally his brow narrowed and he firmed his lips, one hand lifting in and pointing a finger at her in an almost accusing manner that had her smiling for some God awful reason.
"Why are you really here? And please don't patronize me anymore with your comfort in my office or your worry for my family." Hershel said his eyes boring holes into her. "While I don't think you're lyin' about either, I can tell that you have something else on your mind."
Callie shifted on her feet, her hand sliding back into her back pockets and she rocked back on her heels. Hershel held her gaze and she nodded her head before reaching out and plucking up the photo album on the desk. His eyes followed her movements and they both stared at the small leather bound album while the silence around them thickened.
"I didn't take any photos with me from home," Callie said quietly her fingers trailing on the album. "I couldn't. I couldn't look at them." Callie said shaking her head a bit before lifting her eyes to Hershel's steely gaze.
Opening the album she flipped to the first photo; her, Bobby, Suze, Sammy and Hannah smiling out at the world. She smiled down at it for a moment before she held it out to him. He hesitated and then reached out slowly to take it. His eyes shifted over the photo, taking in the faces in a quite reverence that touched her.
"That's a very handsome family you have," Hershel said nodding his head and lifting his eyes. His brow twitched as he no doubt realized that she wasn't with that handsome family. And that the tears shining unshed in her eyes would fall no matter what she did to stop them.
"Had, Hershel," Callie said blinking back her tears and shaking her head. She steeled her gaze at him and clenched her hands. "You see, by your estimation, I killed them." Hershel's eyes went wide and the album fell from his now limp grip and thudded lightly upon the creaking floorboards. His feet shifted him back one step and Callie smiled tightly as she bent to pick up her album.
"I don't—"
"Suze, Sammy, Hannah," Callie said pointing to each as she got back to her feet. "They got bit. Infected," Callie said quietly her finger trailing over the face of each one. She blinked again and felt the tears slide down her cheeks. "I shot them and buried them," Callie said quietly her eyes lifting to him.
Hershel's hand was gripping the desk beside him and she held the album out to him for him to again look at the photos.
"Bobby's still out there somewhere," Callie said shaking her head and again looking down at the smiling face of her brother staring back up from his position right beside her in the photo. "And someday I'm going to have to tell him that I shot his wife and babies. Someday I'm going to have to watch that news kill something inside of him. And I dread that with every fiber of my being."
"I think you should leave," Hershel said shaking his head and sliding around his desk, as if putting that barrier between them would somehow stop her words from reaching him. The movement almost made Callie smile. Almost.
"You think I was wrong for doing it," Callie said quietly settling the photo album back onto the desk. "You think I'm a murderer."
"I don't know what to think of you," Hershel said quietly his eyes lifting from where the photo album sat between her flattened palms on his desk. His eyes skipped to the photo on his desk quickly and then his head was shaking again and his hands were lifting as if he could wipe her out of the room. "You should leave now."
"I didn't want these photos," Callie said tapping her finger on them and again calling his attention to the smiling faces of the children and woman she'd murdered in his eyes. He glared down at it for a moment before slipping his now angered expression up to her. "I couldn't stand to look at them. Because then," Callie tapped the photo and shook her head. "All those months ago when this horror first started, I didn't fully understand. I didn't. I did what I had to do." Callie sniffed and wiped the back of her hand along her eyes finally giving in to the urge to wipe the wetness from her cheeks. "I did it and I blamed myself for their death for a long time. I blamed myself and put my life on the line for stranger after stranger after stranger in order to try and right that wrong."
"I don't understand-"
"I couldn't look at these photos because I couldn't stand looking into the eyes of the people I'd lost. The people I'd killed. It has taken me a very long time to come to terms with the things I've done in this new world," Callie shook her head. "And I realize that you can and will judge me for my actions. And quite honestly, Hershel, I don't give a fuck." Callie settled her palms flat to the desk again and leaned towards Hershel. "I've come to terms with what I've done. What happened to them. What happened to Jenna. And now I find myself able to look at them again and smile at their faces. It still hurts, and deep down I'll always blame myself. And no matter what I do I'll always have the image of shooting them burned into my head."
"I am sorry for your loss and the horror that you had to endure," Hershel began his voice shaking as he lifted his hands again to wipe at the air. "But I don't have any idea why you are sharing this with me. I didn't ask-" he shook his head and let the statement hang as his voice cracked on that last word.
Callie stared at him long and hard for a good moment, her flat hands sweating against the wood of his desk. Finally she pushed up and shifted her gaze to the photo on his desk. His eyes followed almost immediately and widened just a bit as she slipped a single finger out and over the frame. She smiled sadly as she lifted her now dust covered finger to the space between them.
"They're the same in the living room and the dining room," Callie said idly her eyes slipping from her finger to the frame on the desk. "Everything in this house is in order. Run in almost fucking military precision. Everything clean and neat," her eyes lifted to him and he stared back with an angry frown. "Except the family photos. Each one of those has a nice shadow of dust along the frames and the glass."
She held his gaze as she lowered her hand and wiped the dirt on her finger onto her jeans. Hershel stared at her and then slipped his eyes to the family portrait on his desk.
"You have a handsome family," Callie said quietly, echoing his words from earlier. "Daddy, his girls," Callie said looking at the dust covered picture, her eyes slipped up finding Hershel's eyes glued to the photo. "Wife and son." Callie leaned forward when Hershel leaned back his eyes flaring to life as he stared her down from across the expanse of his desk. Again she leaned down, her palms flat on the surface as she caught and kept his hardened angry glare on her. "Jimmy turned his father's church into a mausoleum. Kept his family there because he couldn't bear to-" she shook her head and watched the muscle in Hershel's jaw tick. "Danny and I buried my family after," his brow narrowed at her and Callie knew she was a stone's throw away from getting her ass tossed out of the house and off of his land but she had to push.
If her hunch was right, and everything her gut was telling her said it was, then she needed to push him on this. For the safety of the people sleeping out on his lawn. The people settling in here, and finding comfort and solace here. She needed to push. Needed to understand.
Because Rick wanted to stay here….
"You said it yourself," Callie continued, Hershel's eyes slipping away from the photos that he'd been glancing at and back to her. The venom in that stare damn near floored her but she pushed, because if Rick really wanted to stay someone was going to have to. "You said it yourself, Hershel. It's important to bury our dead."
"I've explained to Rick," Hershel barely got out, his voice so constricted by the anger he was desperately trying to control. "There are aspects of this farm that I will not discuss."
"I know what it's like to not be able to look at them," Callie said quietly, his eyes spearing her again. Mixed in with that anger boiling at the edge of his voice was a deep-seeded loss that Callie felt sick for rekindling in the man. She tipped her head to the side and pushed up off the desk, her finger tapping on the photo album. "I know what it's like. I carry the guilt of that day with me everywhere I go. I look at Ben and Gracie and I see Sammy and Hannah. I hear them-" Callie's head shook off to the side and she pushed through the press of tears and caught Hershel's gaze again.
"I'm not tryin' to force my beliefs upon you," Callie said, her words again echoing his from days ago when they'd first sat down to discuss Jenna. Hershel's head tipped to the side and he regarded her through lowered lashes. "And you are more than free to kick me out of your house and off your land for the line that I've crossed. But for the safety of the people that I love," Callie said shifting forward again her voice and eyes trying to implore the man if her words alone wouldn't'. "The people that are currently camped out on your lawn, with no more than a fucking tent to protect them from the horrors of this world. People that have given up their weapons to appease you. People that have put trust and faith in the safety that you have projected to them here." Callie slipped her hands back onto the desk and turned the dusty photo of his family towards him. "I just want to know where they are."
A heavy silence settled over them and Callie just stared up into Hershel's wide angry eyes. His gaze was bouncing between each of her eyes as he worked to read her, worked to figure out what to say. Callie saw the moment he made his decision, the brief flaring of his nostrils the before his eyes fell to the desk to stare at the album full of photos she'd laid out and the one framed one of his family. Hershel's head began to shake slightly as he looked at that framed photo, his fingers reaching out and sliding in the dust atop that frame.
Just as his mouth opened a soft knock sounded on the door and Maggie slipped her head into the office. The look on her face as her eyes skimmed over her told Callie that the woman had been standing there for quite some time. Callie shifted her head to the side and shook it before picking up her photo album and snapping it closed with one hand.
"What is it Maggie?" Hershel's voice was hoarse as he ran a tired shaking hand over his head.
"Nelly's back," Maggie said quietly watching Callie shuffle to the door. Maggie slipped away from it and further inside to stand near her father her eyes following Callie as she swung the door open fully. Callie glanced at Maggie and gave a sad smile, her hand reaching out and touching the younger woman's shoulder and giving a brief squeeze. "Callie-"
"Don't forget Beth and Patricia," Callie said as she turned from Maggie and speared the still slightly shell shocked Hershel with a glance. "Jimmy's comin'. I'm not askin' permission for that one. He's comin'." Hershel lowered his gaze in a quick moment of acquiescence and then watched her shift around to face him. "And Patricia's her own woman, but I know she'll respect your wishes on the subject. Talk to them, we'll wait until we hear from them before we head out."
With that Callie left the room, the little black photo album clutched to her chest. Idly she reached her fingers up and wiped at the wetness still staining her cheeks and let out a shuddering sort of sigh as she again made her way towards the door.
Callie let the flap slip from her fingers and blinked into the dimmed light provided through the mesh windows of the large four-person tent. Her fingers trailed almost forgetfully through her loose tangle of curls and down to rub at the back of her slightly sore neck. Her eyes trailed the interior of the tent that she and Daryl had only really shared for one night, and at that thought she found her eyes drag over to the rumpled mass of bedding that made up their bed.
Fuck. Their bed.
Callie's head shook a bit and she let out a slightly scoffing laugh. When the hell did that happen? When did she throw out all the rules that she had made early on in this shit storm and allow that to happen?
Callie let out a sigh and again ran her hand through her hair as she let her gaze slide around the tent interior. The pulsing and pounding of the migraine that she just couldn't seem to push away had hit a whole new level after she'd left Hershel's office. And as she closed her eyes in an effort to gather herself, she contemplated heading right back into that house and curling up around Daryl for the rest of the day.
Callie shook her head at herself and crouched down to find a new shirt. She settled the photo album and her gun on the ground next to her pack and unbuttoned one more button so that she could slip the soft blue cotton of Daryl's dress shirt off of her body. She stared at it in her hands for a few moments and then folded it neatly before setting it down by the gun and album. Her hands slipped into her pack and she pulled out a fresh long-sleeved t-shirt and slipped it on, shoving the sleeves up to her elbows. Pulling her hair back into a messy knot at the back of her head she shifted to her feet and tucked in the front portion of her shirt so that she could slip her gun back into place.
Her eyes angled down and she stared at the blue shirt, gun and photo album for a few seconds. Something tickled at the back of her mind in that moment; something that suddenly had her blood running cold and her eyes flaring wide. She stared at her gun, at that album and then shifted her eyes around the rest of the tent.
Diving to her knees Callie's hands began to toss items around. She haphazardly removed everything from her packs, shifting through the contents twice before letting out a ragged sigh. She shifted towards the bedding and tossed the blankets aside, her head shifting to the side where she'd been laying. Her sightline shifted and she stared at the spot she knew it should be.
The spot she'd stared at for hours that night they'd slept here.
That spot that was now empty. Because all of Daryl's things had been taken inside. All of his things. But she'd seen everything he had in those packs, and it wasn't there.
Which meant only one thing.
"Son of a bitch," Callie shifted on her knees, snatched her gun and settled into place before dashing through the tent flap. Her eyes shifted and she felt her jaw clench at the sight of the group congregating near Shane's Jeep. She took off at a steady stalking half-walk half-run towards them, trying and failing to keep her temper in check. "Son of a bitch."
Callie stalked forward, half-listening to the conversation that was already going on between Rick, Lori, Shane and Dale. Her eyes skipped over the slightly embarrassed ones of Carl who was bouncing his attention between his parents, and landed right on her own target.
"I saw it," Shane's voice the end of his sentence caught Callie's ears and she looked to where he stood across from Rick. Callie stared at them for a moment but then shifted back on target.
"It's my fault," Dale's voice echoed out and Callie shifted her head slightly to him as she felt his gaze land on her. "I let him in the RV. Carl said you sent him in for a battery for the Walkie, I didn't question it." Dale shifted his eyes back between Lori and Rick and sighed as he rubbed a hand over his head. "You didn't send him?"
"No I did not," Rick said shaking his head at his son and then shifting his eyes to Shane. Shane shifted on his feet and returned Rick's gaze with a head shake of his own but surprisingly kept his mouth shut. Callie shifted and slid behind Rick to where Ben was currently working to sneak away. "Everythin' a'right, Callie?"
She spared him a single lifted hand and worked past him towards Ben.
"So not only was he carryin' a gun around," Lori said exasperated and frustrated. Callie's eyes slipped to the woman and caught her gaze for a second. "He lied." Lori shook her head and threw her hands up. "Unbelievable."
Callie's hand reached out and finally grabbed onto Ben's shoulder and stopped his movements. She felt Rick's gaze slip over to her but she ignored him as she glared down at the boy.
"Give it," Callie said holding her hand out. Ben's eyes went wide and his mouth opened to say something but she shook her head. "Not one word, Ben. Give it." Ben's eyes shifted behind her to where the rest of the congregated group was now watching them and he growled a little. His chin dipped to his chest and he lifted his shirt, which was one of Carl's old shirts that hung on the boy just right so that it completely hid the small silver gun settled into the front waistband of his pants. Callie let him put his hand to the gun before she reached out and grabbed his wrist. "Safety on?"
"I'm not an idiot," Ben snapped back and then obviously regretted it when Callie shifted on her feet and gave him a look that had his chin digging back into his chest.
"Coulda fooled me," Callie said as she slowly let Ben lift the gun out of his pants and hand it to her. Callie stared long and hard at the Fat Lady sitting in Ben's outstretched hands. "You take this outta mine and Daryl's tent when you took him his bags yesterday?" Ben grimaced but nodded his head lowered head.
"Jesus, Callie," Shane's exasperated voice echoed out and Callie's gaze shifted over her shoulder to him. "That's just great. Leaving fuckin' guns around for kids to just pick up." Shane ran his hand over his shaved head and glared at her. "Fuck. Ever heard of gun safety?"
"Fuck off, Shane." Callie spat back. "I don't need you tellin' me how bad this is." She shook her head at his glaring eyes and lifted a finger at him. "You picked up on Carl's gun right? I know damn well you saw his," she said pointing to Ben. He stared at her as she shifted her eyes around the group and then back to him. "I told you before it's about more than just you and yours. That's the last time I'm gonna say it." Callie's gaze slid over to where Rick stood with his hands on his hips. His eyes caught hers and then shifted between Ben at her side and Carl.
"What were the two of you thinkin'?" Rick said on a frustrated sigh, one of his hands lifting to rake through his hair.
"We want to help," Carl answered quickly his eyes skipping between Callie and his father and then over to where Shane was still growling at Callie's back. Callie watched Carl step slowly forward, his eyes catching hers forcefully as he implored her to understand. Again she was struck with how much like his father he truly was. "We want to help find Sophia, and we want to help protect the group. We can't do that without guns."
Callie exchanged a glance with Rick and then Lori before slipping her still angered gaze down to Ben as she clutched the Fat Lady in her hand.
"What did I say to you?" Callie said quietly watching Ben's little jaw clench.
"We want—"
"What did I say?" Callie repeated, each word short and crisp with no room for misinterpretation on the boy's part. Ben's mouth twitched to the side and his gaze averted to the side as his little feet kicked at the dirt.
"That you would teach me," Ben said sullenly as he continued to glare off to the side. His little mouth worked back and forth as he chewed on the words he was saying and Callie was struck by how much of Daryl had rubbed off on the boy in so little time. Rick slipped his hands to his hips again and caught Callie's eye with his own disappointed look. "Said that I wasn't to touch a gun 'till you gave me the okay. But-"
"Ya honestly pullin' a 'but' out right now?" Callie said almost wide eyed as she stared down at Ben.
"You said I could learn," Ben said over Lori's exclamation of them 'just being children'. He grabbed Callie's hand and dragged her down so that she was crouched before him. "You promised. After what happened with my mom and dad, you said-" Ben's mouth twitched and he again glared off to the side as he tried to steady his voice. The stares of all of the adults crashed onto them and Callie felt that weight settled hard on her shoulders. So hard it made the pounding in her head take a backseat to the pain that ran along her spine from it, the pain that tickled right into that deep scar on her back. "You said I wasn't a kid anymore, but that I had to wait 'till you said I was ready." Ben shifted his eyes up to her, unshed tears sparkling along his lashes. "What 'bout if I say I'm ready?"
Callie stared down at Ben for a long time, watching the boy's eyes as he fought with the emotions running rampant through his small body. Rick's eyes shifted over to Shane who raised his brows in a bit of confusion and Lori stepped forward placing her hand along Carl's shoulder. There were many things that Callie and Danny had shared about how and when they'd found each of their 'kids' but there were also a great many things that they hadn't.
"You sayin' I should just ignore the fact that you've been carryin' a gun without my permission for a whole damn day?" Callie said quietly to Ben, her left hand reaching up to grab his shoulder and force him to look at her. "You think that sort of thing conveys any sense that you're ready to me?" Ben's mouth twitched again and he shook his head as he looked to the ground. "Ben," Callie's voice had the boy's eyes lifting up to her and she took in a deep breath. "Miles had to wait. He's got years on you, and he waited 'till I okayed it. Why are you so keen on this now?"
"It's my fault," Carl said quietly and Callie shifted just a bit to watch Carl approach. "He told me about his mom and dad-"
"I couldn't help them," Ben said shaking his head and working to take the blame from Carl's shoulders. "I couldn't help them, and I wasn't out there to help Daryl." Ben's voice lowered and his eyes shifted over her shoulder to Carl and then the rest. He shuffled a bit uncomfortably and Callie shifted in her crouched position to try and catch his eyes. "I wanna help. I need ta help."
"We both do," Carl said again causing Callie's eyes to shift to the boy, Rick's hands were settled at Carl's shoulders now and he was looking down at her with a mix of some emotion in his eyes. "You saved me and Ben at the CDC, but the only thing I think about is the fact that you almost died 'cause I couldn't use a gun. Went out into the dark with all those Walkers alone because I couldn't-" Carl shook his head and looked up at his father when Rick's grip on his shoulders tightened. "And if I'da been able to use a gun maybe Wallace-"
"Carl, no," Callie said rubbing at her head and the pounding that was beginning to make her fucking dizzy. Callie shifted her eyes up to Rick and then over to Lori, an apology written on her face as she shook her head at them.
"No," Carl said shaking his head and stepping forward out of his father's grasp a bit. "I know what we did was wrong. We both know that. We're not stupid. And we're not going to stop wanting to help." Carl looked up at Rick and then over to Lori as Callie shifted slowly to her feet. "You guys are the ones not taking us seriously. This is a big responsibility, we know that. We just want the chance to help instead of always being the burden."
"You are not a burden," Lori said immediately her eyes catching Callie's.
"You are everything." Callie said nodding as she stepped up and put a hand to Carl's shoulders and then looked to Ben. "You get that. Everything." Callie let out a long sigh and rolled her head along her aching shoulders, her hand raking through her hair as she stared down at the gun in her hands. She lifted her gaze to Rick and held his for a long time, watching his decision spark in his eyes at the same time she'd made up her own mind. Shifting her eyes to Ben she stooped and got right into his face. "You listen to everything we say," Callie said quietly, watching Ben's eyes go wide for a second before a big smile slid onto his face.
"You can't be serious?" Lori's voice echoed out in Callie's head and for just one second she heeded it and clenched her jaw. Callie stared long and hard at Ben and then the gun settled in her hands and finally she shifted her eyes to Rick who nodded once before turning to face his wife. "He's barely old enough to ride a bike without training wheels," Lori implored, tossing out a hand at Ben. She shook her head as Rick stepped over towards her and she met his gaze with an incredulous look. "You can't possibly agree with this."
"It's Callie's call," Rick said quietly his hands settling at his hips as he spared a single look to Shane who nodded his head idly. "It's not a bad idea for them to learn, Lori. The world isn't the way it was anymore. Ridin' a bike without training wheels isn't a life-skill that's gonna come in handy anymore. Learning their way around a gun is. It's gonna keep them stay alive."
"I can ride a bike!" Ben yelled and Callie plopped her hand on top of his head shushing him, an apologetic smile on her face when Rick turned towards them.
"Carl was just shot, Rick." Lori said in a harsh whisper of a voice that carried heavily over all of them. "He is just now back up on his feet, and-" Lori threw out her hands in frustration at the camp around them. Her eyes slipped over all of the adults gathered and then settled hard on Rick and then Dale. "Am I really the only one that thinks putting a gun in his hand is a bad idea?"
"He has to learn eventually," Rick said quietly getting Lori's eyes back on him. She shook her head at him and he reached out taking hold of her arm and holding her steady. "Lori," Rick let out a breath and took a step closer to her as she backed away in shock.
"I didn't say anything when you took him with you out in the woods," Lori said waving her hand at him in a restless manner. "I wanted to but I didn't, and I should have." She searched Rick's eyes and held his gaze for a long time. Callie watched Rick's hand soften on her arm as his thumb rubbed in small soothing circles along her arm, and she couldn't help but smile just a bit at the action. "I should have."
"Shane is the best instructor I've ever seen," Rick said stepping a bit closer catching her gaze with his own as he dipped his head. "He's trained kids younger than Carl, kids just like Ben," Rick shifted his eyes to where Callie had settled Ben in front of her. "This isn't ideal," Rick said looking back to Lori. "I know that. It isn't ideal, Lori, but the world doesn't lend to ideal situations anymore."
Callie watched Lori's eyes widen just a bit, her expression unreadable as she shifted her eyes over Rick's in an effort to read whatever was in his eyes as he looked at her. Finally she firmed her lips and let out a breath as she looked down at the ground. Shaking her head she stalked over to where Carl was standing near Callie and Ben and grabbed onto his chin. She turned her son's pale face and blue eyes up to hers and spoke down to him with a force that only a mother could really truly produce.
"You will treat this with the respect it deserves," Lori said quietly and Callie felt herself smiling widely at the glimpse of the Lori that Rick had always described falling in love with. Callie's eyes shifted to Rick and she saw his eyes soaking in the sight of his wife. "You will listen to your father," Lori continued in that firm, steady, strong voice that Callie somewhat envied her for. Lori clenched her hand a bit tighter and moved Carl's face a bit closer to her, before lifting her other hand and tipping Rick's hat back a bit to see his eyes more clearly. "And if I hear one word about you not listening, or about you not giving this responsibility its due—"
"I won't let you down," Carl said firmly, the tiny muscle in his jaw flexing under the power of his words. He stared up at his mother and firmed his lips, mirroring his mother's expression as she too tried to control her emotions. "I won't. I'll make you proud, mom. I promise."
Callie let out a long breath she hadn't realized she was holding and squeezed Ben's shoulders lightly. Her eyes lifted and caught Rick's. He settled his hands to his hips and dipped his head to his chin as he nodded idly at the ground. In that moment, Callie knew that Rick was finally coming to grips with the reality of their new existence in the world.
"You really think this is a good idea?" Danny asked as he trudged along next to Dale as they worked their way down to the stables. Dale shifted his eyes over to Danny and let out a long sigh. "Gonna take that as a 'no'."
"It's not a no. I just don't know if anything is going to help," Dale said in an exasperated tone as he shook his head and shifted his eyes back to the stables that they were closing in on. "Honestly. I don't. If what Glenn says is right and he thinks that they're sick-"
"We can't stay here," Danny said quietly, causing Dale's eyes to shift back to him. Danny grimaced but shrugged. "We can't Dale. There's no bridgin' that gap, Dale."
"We can try," Dale said emphatically. "For the sake of our people, and the safety we have here. We can try."
"I'm with you, buddy." Danny said lifting his arm and wincing at the uneven ground as he limped along. "I just know the type of man Hershel is," Danny said quietly his hand sliding out to catch Dale's arm and stop them for a moment. "He's set in his ways, and believes what he believes. There isn't much room for other people's beliefs, or opinions."
"Well," Dale said with a small smile as he patted Danny's hand on his arm. "Good thing for you, I've never let that sort of thing stop me from trying to prove a point."
"Yes, Dale," Danny said following him and chuckling. "We're all very happy for your hard-headedness. It's made for great campfire debates." Dale shifted a look over his shoulder and Danny shook his head as he waved an arm for Dale to go ahead and be the first to poke the fucking bear.
Dale walked into the stable and Danny stayed near the door, his eyes shifting towards the barn in the distance. The barn that Glenn just dropped the bomb on having Walkers settled inside. Danny shook his head. When the boy first started stuttering out his excuses to Shane about not going out for gun training Danny had just figured it was about something juicy. He'd cracked a wide grin at the younger man and joked about something going wrong between him and Maggie on their little clandestine trip last night.
He'd seen Maggie making her way at breakneck speed towards that barn where Glenn had disappeared to earlier. And he'd been happy for them. Let them get a little happy-happy in the world gone fucked up. What could it hurt?
But as soon as Glenn had rambled off the bit about the barn-and Lori's pregnancy which had hit Dale pretty hard-a cold stone had dropped into his stomach. He'd let Glenn go off to that barn. Let him walk off with a fuckin' skip in his step thinkin' he was gonna get him some little bit of a pretty little farm girl to help chase away the woes of the world.
Let him walk into a fuckin' deathtrap.
Glenn of course had been adamant about Danny not blaming himself, about Danny not feelin' like he'd let him walk into danger. None of them had known. None of them could have known. And while Danny realized Glenn was right, it hadn't stopped him from becoming angry.
Angry with himself. Angry with the world. And then, wonderfully enough, angry with their fuckin' host.
Luckily though Dale and his strangely calming presence had set Danny's anger to a low simmer and let him see what they needed to do. So as Dale spoke about talking to Hershel, Danny agreed to go as well. To help. Because Danny did know the type of man Hershel was.
But in talkin' with the man, he knew something else too. Hershel wasn't the type to put his beliefs above his family. Danny figured the man just needed to be reminded of that.
"Your fields are lovely," Dale's voice echoed back and had Danny shifting and heading towards them. Hershel's brows rose, a bit of anger easily read as it flashed quickly in his eyes. Dale shifted to look at Danny and then continued on. "We were walking them this morning." Dale continued his head shifting as Hershel threw himself back into his work cleaning down the newly returned Nervous Nelly. "We ended up at the barn." Hershel's hands stopped and his heavily browed eyes shifted up to Dale and then over to Danny. "We heard the moans."
"That's unfortunate," Hershel said quietly his head shaking as he ran a brush down the horse's back leg.
"I'm sure you have your reasons for keepin' this a secret," Dale said his eyes following Hershel as he worked on the horse. Danny watched the two elder men dance around one another, with words as well as the movements of their bodies, and he couldn't help the bit of a smile he got on his face. Hershel and Dale. Ornery and Opinionated at their best.
"I saw the broadcasts," Hershel said quietly and Danny shifted to settle his back to one of the large support beams. "Saw the irrational fear, the atrocities, the panic. Like the incident at my well," Hershel said shifting to look pointedly at Danny.
"We put down a Walker," Danny said forcefully a bit of his anger flaring back to life as he was reminded yet again of Glenn's life being put on the line. "We did what we had to do."
"What you had to do?" Hershel said a bit of anger heating his voice as he speared Danny with a look. "What you had to do? Honestly, Danny I expected different from you after our talk the other day."
"Don't," Danny said lifting a hand and waving it in the air as Dale shifted his eyes between them. "I told you straightforward that I am not my father. I hold heavy to my beliefs, but I do not let them define my actions to the point of putting the people I love in danger."
"What danger? These people are sick," Hershel began but Dale shook his head and stepped in to the conversation again. Hershel let out a long sigh and glared at them both. "I will not have this conversation again."
"Again?" Dale asked his brows narrowing as he shifted a look to an equally confused Danny.
"Callie made a point to visit me this morning in my office," Hershel said his jaw clenching a bit and his eyes shifting from Danny to the ground. Danny's brows narrowed and he stepped towards the older man.
"She knows?" Dale asked and Danny shook his head as he watched Hershel.
"No," Danny supplied, causing Hershel's eyes to lift to him. "She suspects," Danny said as he shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. "There aren't any graves," Danny said more to himself than anyone else, but Hershel's eyes speared him sharply as he limped around the room. "I didn't get it when she did. I shoulda," Danny said quietly his eyes slipping to Hershel. "I am sorry for your loss."
"I don't-" Dale shifted his eyes between the two of them and stepped forward to put a hand to Danny's arm. "What don't I know here? What am I not getting?"
"It's your family in there," Danny said quietly his eyes again shifting to where he could make out the looming structure of the barn in the distance. "They got bit and died-"
"They're sick," Hershel cut off what Danny was abruptly. Danny stepped back with wide eyes and shook his head.
"You're a doctor, how can you-"
"Danny," Dale's hand shifted and held on to Danny's arm stopping him from finishing his statement. Danny shook his head and spun around as Dale shifted towards Hershel, that calming presence yet again taking effect.
"Let us help," Dale said quietly. "We can talk to Rick. If Callie knows and hasn't said anything yet the obviously she wants to help. She wouldn't have let it go on without wanting to be able to figure out a way for us to all -" Dale shifted and spared a look to Danny who tossed his hand up in defeat. "Let us talk to Rick and Callie." Dale said quietly as he slipped around to again catch Hershel's gaze. "They're good people. We can work together. Make the barn more secure, keep everybody safe."
"Jesus," Danny muttered as he raked his hand through his hair again. Dale shot him a look and Danny shrugged out a noncommittal acquiescence tellin' him to go ahead with a wave of his hand.
"The barn is secure," Hershel said quietly his eyes slipping to Danny. "And so you know, Callie and I were interrupted before I was able to answer her questions. She doesn't know anything about the barn, but you're right. She has suspicions," Danny let out a sigh of frustration and then nodded, understanding exactly what the man was saying. "Keep this to yourselves if you really want to help." Hershel said his eyes shifting again between them. "Rick and Callie," he sighed and shifted so that he stood directly in front of them. "They're people of conscience," Hershel paused there, his eyes sliding to his hands. He took a deep breath and then continued. "They are, but can you say the same about everyone else in your group."
Hershel held Dale's gaze for a long moment before slipping around him and then heading for the door. Danny watched the older man go, his gait stiff as he steeled his shoulders and spine under both his and Dale's scrutinizing glares.
The stable was silent for a long moment as both Danny and Dale continued to stare off after slowly retreating figure of Hershel. Danny's rubbed his hand along the back of his neck idly as he blinked his eyes a few times to try and figure out just what the fuck they were supposed to do now.
"Shane," Dale said voicing the one name that had been clawing around in Danny's head as well. "He's talking about Shane."
"Yeah," Danny said quietly running his hand through his hair again. "Amazing how easily people read situations anymore. Fuck, I might be a genius but I'm horrible at that."
"No you aren't," Dale said putting his hand to his shoulder. "You've seen it for a while, just like me. You're just more apt to give him the benefit of the doubt."
"I was," Danny said shifting his eyes to Dale. Dale raised a brow and Danny shook his head. "Few things have come up that I'd rather not share. Let's just say if it comes down to the safety of this group and Shane's fuckin' pride. I'm pickin' the group. No questions. No hesitation."
"We need to talk to Glenn," Dale said as he hooked Danny's arm and began to walk him out of the stable and back towards their camp. "See if he can talk to Maggie. Then we need to talk to the group. We can't keep this a secret. It's too dangerous." Dale grimaced and slipped his eyes to Danny whose agitation was growing by leaps and bounds with each staggering step he took. "Shane's gonna see this as all the ammunition he needs," Dale said shaking his head. "He's gonna make a push and I honestly don't know if Rick or Callie is up for pushing back right now."
"Then we do it for them," Danny said. The harsh tone of his voice caused Dale's feet to stop and his eyes to shift over to Danny. Dale held Danny's eyes for a long time and finally nodded as Danny pulled them back into their slow progress along the path back to the camp. "I'm not about to let that man push his way into a position that puts these people in any more danger. We're family now. All each other has. We push him back."
Danny felt Dale's eyes on him as they walked, but he didn't turn to return the older man's gaze. Instead he kept his on the barn in the distance. He knew it was impossible, but he swore he could hear the moans and groans of the Walkers behind those wooden slats. Heard it as loud as ever as they veered towards where the RV was settled.
Heard sounds that used to only live in nightmares, and felt them settle deep into his bones and crush any happiness and safety that he'd felt during their time here. That fuckin' familiar sensation of hope and safety shattering to dust around him taking over everything else.
Trust in me in all you do
Have the faith I have in you
Love will see us through, if only you trust in me
Why don't you, you trust me?
Come to me when things go wrong
Cling to me daddy, whoa yeah and I'll be strong
We can get along, we can get along, oh if only you trust in me
~Trust In Me / Etta James
AN: So much patchwork chapter working… goodness I can only hope this isn't total and utter crap. I was 'bout at the point of this chapter ending in:…. And then they find Sophia in the barn. Rick kills two dudes. Glenn gets a watch. Randall gets beat up by Daryl. And the barn gets over run…. HUZZAH SEASON 3.
God bless you guys for stickin' with me. God bless you.
So, honestly…that scene with Lori and Carl…that was fuckin' heart-wrenching to write (post that fuckin' goodnight, love bit). The whole I'll make you proud mom. FUCK ME. WHY I DO THIS?
Got a good bit more jumpin' around to do. But hey…at least I'll probably still be workin' on this shit when the mid-season break comes so…that'll keep ya busy right?
I'm SUPER behind on my PM's/responses to your reviews. Know that I love you and that I'm gonna work hard to keep up with it now.
Much Love~
See ya next chapter!