New Meanings To Old Words: LOVE
You may call it 'filler', but I counter with 'necessary'.
We're back at the farm in this chapter, it's heading into the early evening and the crew is still awaiting the return of Rick and Shane from their trip 18 Miles Out… we're checking in on everyone's favorite dumbass, Danny and getting a bit of bonding time with him and Hershel….and well… all I'm going to say about the Callie parts is: If you've ever doubted that Callie was 'just a bartender' before the turn and always figured there must be more too her, well, this is YOUR CHAPTER!
As always, read, review and most of all enjoy. I love hearing from you guys and can only hope I haven't lost too many of you to the horror of my long absence.
NOTE: There is a flashback to earlier times, pre-apocalypse times for Callie in this chapter… not to far pre-apocalypse but it's there. That flashback is in ITALICS. Song lyrics are in BOLD ITALICS.
Disclaimer: I own nothing excepting Callie and the misfits, the ones we've met already and the ones we've only heard of in passing…and their lovely little adventures.
On with the show!
King and Lionheart
Callie cracked her neck and let her eyes wander over the camp, and then back to the house behind her. The slow growing darkness around them was settling on her shoulders, and she rolled them in an effort to dispel the feeling. Her head lolled to the right, then the left and she firmed her lips as she let her gaze linger on the roadway not far off.
Part of her wished that she could make the headlights of that damned car Rick and Shane road off in hours ago just appear. Wished she could do it to help settle the nerves of Lori who had paced herself a sick on the front porch now; of the rest of the group who seemed lost without the two men to tell them what the next move was.
Hell, who was she kidding? She wanted them back so that she could settle her own damn mind. Stop it from racing around; skipping over scenario after scenario of all the things that could have gone wrong in the length of time they'd been gone.
It shouldn't have taken them this long. Eighteen miles out and eighteen miles back. Deserted roads…well, mostly deserted roads.
"Fuck," Callie ran her fingers through her loose tangle of hair and shifted her eyes to what had been her destination. Restlessness had played through every other avenue she had, and her own fuckin' cowardice kept her from sliding back over towards the camp that Daryl had set up for them on the other side of the field, which left her with one other option.
Her eyes roved the small metal ladder on the side of the RV and she cracked a crooked grin before letting out a sigh and taking the few steps over towards it. She climbed quietly and quickly, the sound of her boots echoing a bit louder than she would have liked. Just as she reached the top she stopped, her eyes catching on the sight of a pair of worn out shoes at the edge.
Callie's brow twitched and her eyes skipped up to the folding chair sitting in the odd yellow hues of early dusk. The shadow of the man sitting there was a welcome sight and she found herself smiling as she pulled herself up the rest of the way. She shifted to sit down, her tender torn up right arm protesting as she reached down to work her boot laces loose.
"Don't bother," Dale's voice rang out stilling Callie's fingers and causing her eyes to again slip up to the man. Dale shifted in his seat and sent her a half-smile that she raised a brow at. "No one's in there. My feet just needed a moment to breathe."
Callie nodded her head and put her hands to her knees, wincing slightly as the stitched flesh under her long sleeved shirt pulled a bit. Her eyes wandered over the camp below and then out to the road way again, that wish of headlights again repeating in her mind. And again going unanswered. She took in a deep breath then and closed her eyes for a moment before pushing back and up onto her feet.
"Where's Carl?" Callie asked as she worked her way towards where Dale was sitting. The older man shifted his eyes over to her briefly and then nodded his head in the direction of the house.
"I sent him to the house a while ago," Dale said quietly and she idly nodded her head in return. "He was up there with Ben before." At that both of their eyes shifted immediately to where the lone figure of T-Dog could be seen sitting watch on the porch roof. Dale's eyes moved back to her as she continued to stare at the house and T-Dog now shifting to accept a plate from a figure at the nearby window. "He was in quite a mood when I got here; something happen?"
"I overstepped and stuck my nose where it didn't belong," Callie rolled her eyes over to Dale and lifted her brows at his slightly amused look. "I know. Shocker," Callie said sarcastically and shook her head when Dale chuckled. "Lori…she's so distraught. There's a lot she's going through right now and I thought I owed her - She needs Rick and Rick's not here," Callie paused and raked her fingers through her hair, leaving off the words that got stuck in the back of her throat, 'Because of me'. She shook her head and looked back to Dale with a grimace. "I upset him. I should have just left it for Rick and Lori to deal with."
Again Callie's eyes went to the roadway her mind trying to will the man and that damned car he drove out in to magically appear along the horizon. She waited a few moments and sighed as she looked back to where Dale was sitting staring at her.
"I'm sure whatever you said to that boy needed to be said," Dale said quietly his own eyes traveling the surrounding area of their camp. "There's something to be said for the way you've handled the children in your care." Callie looked away and Dale lifted a hand out to her. "Despite what may have happened to Jenna, she was prepared and she was not living in a bubble. And that is thanks to you. Carl has two parents who love him dearly, but they are parents that are doing him a disservice by not sitting down and explaining things to him; not helping him see and understand and make choices. He needs some kind of wake-up call, Callie. And I am sure that whatever you said to him, while upsetting, was necessary and far more help than the silence that his parents meet him with. And I'm also sure that Rick will appreciate it."
Callie's jaw clenched and her eyes skipped back over her shoulder towards the house. She sighed again and shook her head as she looked back to Dale who gave her a half smile. Both of them looked back then, knowing that while Rick may appreciate Callie's stepping in with Carl; Lori would not.
Callie watched as T-Dog settled himself back down on the roof of the porch, plate in hand, and she closed her eyes as her stomach lurched. There was too much adrenaline and worry settling deep in her to even be able to watch another person eat.
"Dinner time," Dale said quietly, causing her eyes to snap open and a smirk to form on her lips as she looked at the slight smile on his lips. "Yeah, I wasn't very hungry either."
"Appetite is hard to come by these days," Callie said in an equally quiet voice, her chin dipping down to her chest for a moment. "Just like sleep and peace of mind."
"Cigarettes however," Dale began that small smile of his growing as his hand lifted up to shake a pack at her. "Plentiful as ever."
"Dale," Callie said stepping forward and smiling as the elder man handed her the pack. "I think I may be in love with you." Dale laughed and Callie slipped a cigarette out of the pack, flipping it over she smiled at the label before handing them back to the man settled in the chair. She raised a brow at him as she slipped her lighter out of her pocket and lit it up.
"Daryl found them," Dale said in answer to Callie's unasked question and she smirked as the flame ignited the end of the cigarette. Inhaling her first drag she chuckled at Dale as he shook his head and stared at the pack in his hand. "My lasting legacy to that man is my cigarette brand. I suppose it's something, hmmm? I should be flattered that he cares to remember."
"I think you're short-changing his sentimentality," Callie said idly as she slipped the cigarette from her lips and let out a small trail of smoke. Her eyes shifted toward the Hummer in the distance.
"You're right, I probably am," Dale said shaking his head as he placed the pack of cigarettes back into the front pocket of his khaki utility vest. "I'm sorry."
Callie scoffed and shook her head, waving off Dale's words with a simple flick of her wrist before shifting on her feet so that she could stare out at that roadway. She winced as she made to cross her arms over her chest and gave Dale a sidelong glance as he looked over at her. Callie's eyes slipped away, and only the sound of the slight breeze was left.
Silence was one of those things that was easy to come by now, but not the comfortable kind. Not anymore. With Daryl there were so many things left unsaid between them that the air seemed heavier now than it had been when they'd first sat atop this RV all those months ago as strangers. Danny, his guilt had yet again forced a rift between them and Callie refused to be the first to offer a bridge for that gap. Rick, there was something behind Rick's gaze now that Callie hadn't been able to figure out; hadn't been able to bring herself to ask about just yet. But Dale, there was always comfort with Dale. The man was good at speaking his mind, leaving very little to muddle the air between the people he surrounded himself with. And while that forthright attitude pushed other people's buttons, Callie appreciated his candor. Appreciated his ability to wade through the bullshit and get to the heart of the matter.
She appreciated it…to a point.
"I have to say, I'm a bit surprised to see you," Dale started, and just by his tone Callie knew what was coming. Knew where he was going with his line of questioning and she couldn't help but smile as she removed the cigarette and let another long trail of smoke filter out of her barely parted lips. Her eyes remained on the roadway, but she nodded her head a bit to let the man beside her know she was in fact listening. "Three days now you've been a ghost around here. And as soon as that boy is gone you come back."
"Rick asked me to keep an eye on things," Callie said quietly and Dale chuckled. The son of a bitch actually chuckled, which made her shift her eyes to him. Dale lifted his eyes to her and waved a few fingers in the air in mocking salute of her annoyance and she found herself smiling back at him. "You're an annoying old man you know that?"
"Oh, yes, I am well aware of that. Thank you," Dale responded letting his hands fall to his knees. They settled back into silence, both of their eyes once again settled upon the horizon and the roadway in the distance.
Callie let her gaze slide to Dale settled into his lawn chair and watched his hands clench and unclench slightly on his knees as his eyes shifted to his sock clad feet. She took a quick drag from her cigarette, filtering the smoke from her lips without removing the slender cylinder of stale nicotine and waited. And continued to wait, until finally her already frayed nerves gave way to a bit of that impatience she hadn't given into in a long time.
"C'mon, Dale," Callie said slipping the cigarette from her lips and shifting her eyes to him. "You're not the type to make a girl wait." Dale took a breath and a folded his hands together between his knees before shifting his eyes over to her. Those big bushy eyebrows of his rose just a bit as he smiled and bobbed his head.
"I feel I have always shown you a courtesy of sorts," Dale said in that quiet fatherly-tone that he had. His eyes shifted away for a moment, his head continuing to bob as he considered his words. It was another thing that she loved about the man, the fact that even now, when the world had gone to hell around them, he still thought before he spoke. Considered his words, because he still believed that words held a power that couldn't be matched. Callie watched him and when he caught her eye again she firmed her lips against the sincere worry marring his brow. Gripping the remainder of her cigarette tight between her fingers she worked to hold his gaze as long as she could. "From day one, I have shown you, and Danny, a courtesy to not pry when I know there is more to a story. I have given you a wide berth because I - " he stopped and raised a palm to the sky as his brow furrowed in what Callie took to be a bit of confusion. "I believed you to be good people, from the moment you all saved Andrea, Amy and me; the day you had to put down two of your own and move past it without a proper moment of grief, I believed you were good people. People who had been put through enough in their short time in this new Hell on Earth we were living in and I felt you deserved that moment of trust. I've shown you a courtesy, and not pried into things, even when I knew you were lying."
Dale's head dipped a bit, his brows still high over his wide eyes as his gaze settled hard on her. Callie felt her throat constrict as she tried to swallow past the lump that had settled there. She took a long final drag off of her cigarette and then tossed the still smoldering butt out into the growing darkness. Raking her fingers through her hair she closed her eyes and sighed.
"Dale," Callie said closing her eyes. Her voice cracked a bit as her wounded right arm gave a sharp twinge of pain down to the tips of her fingers. "You have done more than show us courtesy. You have blindly trusted us and put faith in us when we really didn't deserve it. Especially considering we lied to you," Callie's eyes opened and she looked over at him, feeling his intense stare on the side of her face. "You don't owe me a damn thing after being as patient and kind to me as you were that first day and all those days after. But I'm asking you," Callie took a breath and wet her lips before continuing. "I am asking you as a friend, please, ask me any other question that you want. Anything. But please, don't ask me what you're plannin' to. Not now. It's just too much now. Give me a few days and I swear I'll come to you and explain it all. But please…not now. Not until Rick and Shane get back here safe and we have a minute to breathe."
Dale stared hard at her and she knew he wanted to say something. Knew that her pleading tone made him more interested to know everything that was going on with her; with Danny. He wanted to pry more than he probably ever had before, that worry marring his brow growing with each passing second. Callie crossed her arms tight over her chest as she stared at him, using the pain that it caused her right arm as an anchor to keep her from just running off. Finally, after what seemed like hours Dale looked away, his eyes shifting back to the roadway ahead of them searching for the headlights on that pale green Tucson. Callie continued to watch him, the muscle in his jaw working as he no doubt clenched his teeth in an outright physical effort not to ask those questions burning a hole in his mind.
She watched him for a long time, waiting for him to finally give in to that pressure that had to be building in his head. Dale wasn't a man to mince words, he wasn't a man to let things go easily, especially when he was worried about someone. But he didn't say a thing, just continued to stare out at that road way, that muscle in his jaw ticking away less frequently as he got control of his desire.
Callie's eyes shifted away from Dale then, arms fully crossing over her chest, the fingers of her left hand rubbing idly at her sore right arm. The air around them was thick now, that comfortable silence that she's so coveted completely destroyed, all thanks to her inability to properly cope with anything anymore. Callie shook her head and closed her eyes as she let the cool breeze blow her loose hair around her head.
Where the fuck were Rick and Shane? This trip shouldn't have taken them all damn day. Eighteen miles out and eighteen miles back. They even had a fuckin' map. Callie's eyes skipped over towards the Hummer, her mind already working out the particulars of what she would need to go after them, and who she would take with her. Her teeth were working hard at the inside of her cheek when Dale's voice broke into her thoughts again.
"What did you do before all of this?" Dale asked and Callie's head shook out of the reverie of her plan making. She turned to face him, blinking a few times to clear her mind and process what he'd just asked. Dale smiled a bit at her apparent confusion and shifted in the lawn chair.
"What?" Callie replied stupidly, her eyes continuing to blink as Dale's smile grew a little wider.
"You said I could ask you anything I wanted," Dale said with a small chuckle and Callie's brow furrowed a bit. "I'd like to know what you did before all of this happened?"
"I was a bartender," Callie said raising a single brow at him. She watched him lift a hand as his eyes closed and his head shook. He was chuckling and Callie's arms crossed tighter over her chest as she felt herself begin to smile at him.
"Yes, I know," Dale said, that chuckle still riding the edges of his voice as he opened his eyes stared hard at her. "For four years, right. Your Uncle Tug died four years ago and you took over his bar. I know that," Dale said putting both of his hands to his knees and sitting forward just a little. "I'd like to know what you did before that. You're what thirty-seven, almost thirty-eight," Dale lifted a palm to the sky and wiggled his fingers, and Callie smirked in return. Nodding his head Dale shifted his eyes out to the roadway briefly and then back to her. "You said I could ask anything I wanted, and I'd like to know what you really did before all of this happened."
"Too fuckin' observant," Callie muttered back at him. Her eyes closed and she lifted her left hand to rub at the bridge of her nose, before peeking at the still smiling man staring expectantly at her. Sighing Callie removed her hand and pointed a single finger at Dale before letting the appendage fall back into place across her chest. She shifted her eyes out to the road and felt her mind skipping back across the years to a life and time that felt so long ago she barely even registered it as being hers. "I studied psychology and criminology; got a lovely piece of paper to prove it. In college I worked part time at a lot of shelters, I helped council battered women and victims of violent crimes. After that I continued my education, and eventually became a licensed criminal profiler for the great state of Georgia," Callie's eyes skipped to Dale and she smirked at the impressive height his bushy eyebrows had attained on his face. "I worked a lot with the Savannah police department…"
"Why would you hide that?" Dale asked in an incredulous tone and Callie looked away. Her arms tightened around her torso and she shook her head in response.
"That wasn't who I was when this all happened. When my Uncle Tug died, the bar would have been in good hands if I hadn't stepped in. I didn't need to; but I needed to. I needed the change," Callie licked her lips and gave a self-deprecating chuckle that had Dale shifting around on his seat. She looked back over at him and smiled as he looked on in that same fuckin' worried fashion he always seemed to sport nowadays. "I wasn't very good at my job. I had this horrible habit of always giving people the benefit of the doubt. It seemed no matter what I just couldn't seem to wrap my mind around what people were actually capable of. What kind of repulsive things one person could actually inflict onto another person. It's amazing how many horrors you can see in so short of a time," Callie let out a long sigh, a slight pressure started to build behind her eyes and she looked away from Dale again. "But it didn't matter how much I'd seen at those shelters, what kind of crimes I'd be called in to take a look at, or how well I could read a person's body language and know…just know. It didn't matter how wrong I knew I was; I just couldn't accept that there wasn't any good left…I couldn't accept that kind of - I wasn't very good then," Callie said as she looked over at Dale and cracked a crooked grin. "But you know, I think now," she lifted a finger at him and nodded her head a bit. "I'm much better at it now."
Dale stared at her, stared long and hard with those observant assessing eyes of his and Callie couldn't help but feel embarrassed. She'd never meant to hide that part of her, not really. And she couldn't actually explain why she did.
Because your naiveté got an innocent woman killed and her children left orphans, Callie-girl.
Bobby's voice in Callie's head had her blinking again and violently shaking her head in protest to the words. Her jaw clenched tight and her arms tightened, pulling painfully on that torn and tattered skin of her right arm. After three deep breaths she looked to Dale who was now busy studying his hands clasped loosely between his knees and she gave him a small smile.
"You know," Callie started, and Dale's eyes instantly lifted over to her. "Danny doesn't even know that about me." Callie chuckled and let her arms fall from their protective placement over her chest. She shook out her fingers before settling them loosely into the back pockets of her jeans and rocking back on her heels. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about that."
Dale stared at her, and she could tell just by that fuckin' twinkle in his eye that he wanted to ask 'why'. Whether it was because he was worried, or interested, or a combination of both he wanted to know more. Wanted to know why she kept that part of her so hidden, why she decided to push away what she had been before and opt to remain 'just a former bartender' in the new world they lived in. He wanted to ask but he didn't.
"I'll take it to the grave," Dale said finally, a small smile on his lips as he bobbed his head at her. Callie let out a small chuckle as her hands fell from their place in her back pockets. Her left hand rose to catch into her disheveled hair and she shook her head as she continued to chuckle.
"That's not funny," Callie said finally. Her eyes skipped from Dale's smiling face to the road and then back, a smile still curving her lips.
"You're laughing," Dale said pointing a finger at her and waggling those damned loveable bushy eyebrows of his at her.
"I know," Callie said in return, lifting a finger to point back at him. "I'm fucked up though."
"Aren't we all now," Dale replied and Callie's chuckle ebbed away. Their eyes again met and held and Callie felt that rush of understanding flow between them. A deeper understanding than they'd ever had before. That little bit of truth she shared helping to take a weight off of her shoulders. A weight she honestly hadn't even known was there until it was gone.
Callie's eyes shifted then, their laughter dying off completely as worry marched its unwelcome path up her spine and into her mind once again. She heard Dale shift, and startled just a bit when his hand gently landed on her sore right elbow. She looked to him and he jutted his chin out towards the woods. Callie's eyes widened while her hand shifted slowly towards the gun settled at her hip. Dale's hand on her elbow tightened briefly stilling her hand and she narrowed her gaze at the two figures settled at the fencing in the distance.
"Daryl and Miles," Dale said quietly and Callie felt her head begin to nod as she continued to stare at the silhouettes. She was surprised that she hadn't felt him; usually she was more aware of that redneck sum'bitch than anything else. But her brain was so fucking fogged up by everything that apparently even that connection she had with Daryl was having trouble really making its way through.
She continued to stare, and felt her lips lift into a fleeting fraction of a smile, before firming again. While she may not have felt when Daryl had walked out of that forest at the edge of the property, she felt the moment his eyes lifted to her. Felt it down to her toes, even through the distance that separated them.
"That's a relief," Dale's voice echoed into her head and had her blinking and shifting her eyes to him. He raised a brow and smiled giving her arm a very light pat before stepping back. "Now you can take them with you."
"With me?"
"Callie," Dale said, his head tilting in that way that said 'come on' and had her brow furrowing. "I may not have the training you do, but I still know you. And I know the only reason you're up here right now, and the reason you got everyone set on a schedule for watch, is to make sure the farm is in good hands before you go off after Rick."
"Rick asked me to stay put," Callie said looking back to the house and then roadway and then over to Dale who was slowly settling back down into his chair.
"Yes he did," Dale said smiling widely.
"You're an annoying old man, Dale," Callie muttered as she crossed her arms over her chest. "He's out there because of me," she muttered as her eyes skipped back to where Daryl and Miles were still standing at the fences and then sighed. "Danny, Glenn, T, Andrea, everyone's on alert. Two look out posts, and a nosy old man at the helm here," Callie shifted an amused look over to the now chuckling Dale. "I'm gonna talk it over with Daryl and Miles, get everything settled and get the gear together, but-" Callie shifted her eyes back to the roadway and shook her head. "First light, Dale. They have until first light."
Danny's dirt encrusted fingernails skipped over the inlaid gold lettering on the front of his Bible, that small fuckin' book that Andrea had so thoughtfully nabbed from his room at the CDC. He repeated the motion again and again, ignoring the heated stare of Maggie where she was settled on the chair near him. Glenn's figure was dancing around on the other side of the kitchen island, his feet bouncing his smaller form back and forth as his eyes darted from Maggie to Danny and back.
Danny's eyes tilted up to catch on Glenn's for a moment, and they shared a simple look that spoke volumes. Glenn's eyes shifted away first, out the open side door and to the slow growing darkness of the night. He didn't need to say it, because it was the same thought that was on everyone's mind.
They'd been gone too long.
That simple little trip; eighteen miles out and then back. They'd been gone too long.
Danny's mouth twitched into a snarling frown and he shifted his eyes towards Maggie. She lifted her eyes briefly from where she'd rested them on his Bible and grimaced before shifting her eyes back to watch Glenn fidget his ass away from the island to again pace the floor.
"She's really going after them?" Maggie asked quietly, the same question she'd already asked twice now and that Danny had already grunted out a response to. Glenn turned to face her and he shrugged his whole body before turning away and shaking his head. Maggie turned back to Danny and he lifted a brow at her. "After what happened to her and Lori she's just gonna-" Maggie cut herself off and pushed up from her leaning position to glare at Danny. "And y'all are just gonna let her go?"
"There's no stoppin' that woman once she gets somethin' in her head, Mags," Danny muttered as he yet again scratched at the gold lettering of the Bible before him. "We've had this conversation already," Danny shook his head and remembered the instant that the lovely Miss Greene had sauntered her ass into the kitchen ruining his alone time with his Bible, G-man in tow rakin' his fingers through his hair. She'd been harpin' on about hearing Callie mention to Lori about goin' off to find Rick and Shane, and he'd tried to soothe her worries. That was a full forty-five minutes ago now, and he'd finally realized that she wasn't there to be soothed. She was there to get someone off of their ass to do something.
"You're really not gonna do anything about it?" Maggie asked again, her hands going flat to the counter before her. She shifted her head down and caught Danny's eyes, her brows rising in challenge as she stared at him.
"You don't know her like I do," Danny muttered tiredly, his other hand rolling the pen he'd been writing with before he'd been interrupted back and forth beside the Bible. His chin lowered as he snarled at himself, the guilt he'd been feelin' for days just weighing down his head so that he couldn't even fuckin' lift it for long. He and Callie hadn't had a proper conversation in days, hadn't spoken without angered words and what she deemed 'useless and unnecessary apologies' from him bogging up the air between them. He licked his lips and shook his head. Much as he wanted to go talk to her, talk some sense into her and get her ass to stay put and let Daryl and Miles go…hell anyone else but her go, he couldn't. They weren't at a point where he could sway her.
"She's gonna get herself killed," Maggie seethed out her eyes lifting away from Danny and over to Glenn. Danny smirked just a bit as Glenn's eyes widened like a deer stuck in headlights when her gaze landed on him.
"He's right," Glenn said lifting both of his arms up in surrender. Sighing, Glenn let his hands fall and shook his head at Maggie who had crossed both of her arms over her chest in annoyance him. "She's got this moral streak-"
"Death wish," Maggie cut in on an aggravated sigh before shaking her head and looking away. Danny chuckled and raked a hand through his hair, causing her eyes to beeline for him. She glared at him, and he lifted a palm to the air between them.
"It's physics, honey," Danny said smirkin' and holding on to Maggie's annoyed and angered gaze for all it was worth. "An object in motion stays in motion, same speed, same direction, unless acted upon by an unbalanced force. And I haven't met a force unbalanced enough yet that's come close to stoppin' that woman when she sets herself to task."
Maggie's mouth opened to retort but a shuffling at the entryway had her eyes sliding away from Danny and her mouth instantly snapping shut. Hershel stood in the threshold, his mere presence dominating the room even though he hadn't even entered it fully yet. Glenn's shoulders lifted, his spine instantly stiffening as he worked to stand at a sort of attention for the man. Danny smirked at his friend when his eyes shifted over to him and he slouched further over his Bible fingers continuing to idly roll his pen along the counter as he rested his chin in his upraised hand. Maggie's arms crossed over her chest again, her shoulders flying back and chin lifting not in the respectful way Glenn's had but the defiant one of a child still angry with her father.
And boy was that anger palpable.
Three days of that palpable anger and Danny felt more at home in this fuckin' house than he ever had before. Leslie had been good with silent anger, too. Real fuckin' good. She'd said she refused to fight in front of Jake. Fuckin' stupid of her to think that all that silent anger she kept bottled up in her was doin' any good to the boy who picked up on things faster than either of them had been prepared for.
Danny shook his head and shifted his eyes between the still silently fuming Maggie and Hershel a few times before lowering his gaze back to his Bible. He scratched his nails over the gold lettering again listening as Hershel slowly shuffled towards them.
"Maggie," Hershel's voice was quiet, defeated, and it had Danny's gaze instantly lifting to the man. Hershel's steady gaze remained on Maggie and Danny shifted his eyes to the girl. Maggie's jaw clenched and she shook her head before meeting Danny's gaze. She pointed a finger at him and opened her mouth slightly before snapping it shut. Her head shook slightly and she turned on her heel towards the back door, slamming her way out onto the porch and into the growing night.
Glenn remained rooted to his spot for a moment, his eyes skipping from the still slightly swinging screen door to Hershel and back. Finally Glenn's eyes landed on him and Danny let out a small chuckle.
"Best go get your unbalanced force there, G-man. 'fore she runs herself into a wall too hard," Danny said pointing his thumb towards the door. Glenn's mouth opened and his eyes shifted from where Hershel stood staring at the space in front of and back to Danny. Danny's head jutted towards the door along with his thumb again and Glenn snapped his mouth shut. Nodding his head slowly Glenn took a tentative step towards the door and then looked back towards Hershel.
"Yeah," Glenn said quietly locking gazes with the elder man. "I'll go-I'll go talk to her."
With that Glenn left, following the same path as Maggie and again the screen door slammed along the jamb. Danny's head shook lightly as he looked back to the Bible settled before him and he scratched at the lettering again. He listened to Hershel shuffle around slightly and lifted his eyes to watch the man of the house practically fall onto the stool settled adjacent to him. Hershel huffed out a breath and Danny shifted his eyes instantly catching on his tired eyes as they moved away from the screen door.
"My daughter hates me," Hershel said quietly, his brow furrowing as he watched Danny's fingers scratch at the lettering on the Bible cover. His eyes shifted over to Danny who smiled in return and lifted his chin from his hand.
"That's the whole point of being a parent isn't it?" Danny returned and Hershel gave him a questioning look. "To love them so much that they hate you. I mean, that's the whole thing right there isn't it?"
"I don't think so," Hershel replied with a sigh and Danny barked out a laugh.
"You sure? S'always the way it was for me," Danny muttered as he slipped his eyes back down to the pen and Bible. Hershel sighed and Danny smirked a bit tipping his eyes back to the emotionally and physically exhausted man hunched over the counter of the kitchen island with him. "She doesn't hate you. She's pissed. And she has every right to be."
"She's not mad at you," Hershel said lifting a brow at Danny. Danny sat back a little, smiling wider at the man just staring at him.
"She doesn't care about me," Danny said smiling wider as Hershel's brow furrowed. "Oh come on, she doesn't know me; and while she might care because of Glenn, there's nothing between us but air and shared friends. No man, she don't care about me. So, me goin' off, while irritatin' to her sense of responsibility and deeply ingrained good nature, it doesn't really mean jack shit. But you, she loves you, Hershel. She needs you. And our little trip…she's seein' that as blatant an attempt at takin' your life as Beth's slicin' her wrists was. And she is pissed, ol' man. And she don't strike me as the quick to forgive and forget type." Danny smirked and tapped his pen along the Bible before him catching Hershel's sigh and rolling eyes. "Guessin' she gets that from you, hmmm?"
"Shut up, Danny," Hershel muttered putting his rough fingers to his lips and rubbing side to side as his eyes slipped towards the door that Maggie and Glenn had exited through.
Danny bobbed his head idly, his eyes slipping down to the Bible and pen. He smiled sadly at the book and let out a long low sigh through his lips. He felt it when Hershel's gaze slipped over to him, felt it slide over his face for a few long heavy seconds and then slide down. He felt that man's gaze settle on his Bible and it was Danny's turn to lift his fingers up to rub along his dry mouth.
"How's the register coming?" Hershel's deep voice boomed out, and Danny knew it was just a trick of his over sensitive state of mind causin' it to echo in the space around him. Danny blinked a few times and opened the front of the Bible, lifting that useless piece of velum up and showin' off his handy work with a sad little smirk. Lifting his pen Danny tapped at the names written there and felt Hershel's eye skip from the open book, to his face and then back a couple of times.
"I added Annette and Shawn," Danny said letting his dirty fuckin' nail slide down the small list of names he'd scratched into the front of the book. "As best I could," he said in almost an afterthought as he ran his finger down the list. Names, ages, birthdays that he'd known or been able to get. His finger slipped down and over to that last column. The one that was filling up faster than he'd ever have thought possible.
Date of death.
Danny shook his head and blinked a few times before angrily tapping his finger along the list. He looked up briefly, meeting Hershel's heavy stare head on, and immediately looked back down.
"I forgot to write his name down," Danny said shaking his head and driving the point of the pen into the book where he'd just finished scribbling only moments before Glenn and Maggie stormed in. Danny shook his head and looked up again this time glaring at the man sitting with him. "I forgot to write down Jake's name," Danny snarled out the words, his anger at himself again taking center stage as he pushed that fuckin' ballpoint pen into the page near his son's name. "How fucked up is that? What kind of fucked up father does that make me? What kind of man….?"
A heavy beat of silence fell between them as Danny just stared at Jake's name on the page. He stared until those letters began to blur together, until he felt his fingers trembling and he let the pen go. It clattered to counter and rolled off and onto the floor. Danny skimmed his fingers along Jake's name and shook his head as his shoulders sagged under the weight of the world that had settled there.
"I was supposed to be this better man," Danny muttered shaking his head and lifting his gaze at the feeling of Hershel's gaze on him. "I survived for him. Changed for him; and I forgot him," Danny said in an incredulous tone, the sting of his tears welling painfully and blurring his view of the elder man staring at him. "I forgot him."
Hershel stared silently at him for a few long seconds and eventually Danny looked away, back to his son's name where his fingers still trembled out an odd rhythm. Danny's head continued to shake, and just as he was about to push his ass up out of the seat and leave the house Hershel's voice sounded.
"Even the best of men sometimes forget things," Hershel said quietly and Danny's eyes snapped to him. The older man was staring at his hands now, folded in front of him on the counter, fingers clamped tight around one another. "Even the best, most well-meaning of fathers falter and forget what's most important," Hershel's lifted a brow at him and held Danny's gaze for a moment. "As evident in our own stupidity a few days ago." Danny scoffed and raked a hand through his hair, letting his gaze slip back to Jake's name. "We forget, but that doesn't make us horrible, unworthy people. It makes us human, Danny." Hershel leaned forward then a hand slipping out and a single finger tapping along the edge of Danny's Bible. Danny looked over at him and raised a brow and Hershel dipped his chin down. "You remembered; that's what's important."
Danny barked out a laugh again, unable to contain his own ridiculous reaction to the caring nature of certain people. He laughed and shook his head, wagging a single finger at the man shifting back into his stiff upright position in the chair near him.
"You and Callie," Danny said shaking his head a bit more and continuing to shake his finger as Hershel's brow lifted in confusion. "Y'all should get together and write a book. Fuckin' 'Chicken Soup for the Post-Apocalyptic Soul'." Danny watched Hershel's eyes roll and he couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. He smacked the back of his wrist up against his eyes and rubbed it across both, killing the blurry edge of his vision as he sucked in a few deep breaths. "We all get one," Danny muttered shaking his head at Callie's vestige, and chuckling at Hershel's questioning gaze. "Callie."
Hershel nodded, because once you fuckin' knew that woman well enough, her name was really all the explanation you needed to supply for certain things. Danny smiled tightly at his Bible and closed it laying both of his hands flat to its surface, his eyes wide on his dirt-encrusted hands splayed before him.
"Three months into sobriety I don't think I would have lasted this," Hershel said as he lifted a hand palms up in indication of the world at large. Danny began to shake his head in dismissal of the elder man's words, not willing to believe what he was saying. Hershel's hand shifted, flat, calloused palm facing Danny now telling him to stop and shut his mouth better than words ever could have. Danny's mouth snapped shut and his eyes slipped back to the Bible. "I wouldn't. Twenty-years and I didn't," Hershel said succinctly and Danny shifted his gaze to the man watching him shift off of the stool he was on and place both of his hands to the island before them. "Everything your group has been through; everything you have been through, I wouldn't have lasted. You're a better man than I, Danny. A better man than you're givin' yourself credit for being."
Hershel stepped around and headed over towards where Danny was sitting, and Danny couldn't do anything but watch the man come. Shock at his words, shock at how much he needed to hear them had cemented him in place and had his eyes widening as Hershel slipped one hand into his pocket.
"I got this few years ago," Hershel said taking his hand from his pocket and staring at whatever was inside. "Twenty years of sobriety, celebrated in a cheap medallion," Hershel shook his head and gave the coin a little half-smile as he held it before him by thumb and forefinger. Danny stared at the coin as Hershel twirled it slightly in his fingers, marveling at the way that the light moved along the bronze-not gold as he'd originally thought- surface. Hershel's eyes slipped over and Danny's moved to catch his gaze, and felt himself sitting a bit straighter on his perch. Sitting straighter and pushing away as the elder man advanced on him with a look in his eye, a look that Danny could honestly say he hadn't seen in the eyes of many before.
Pride.
Danny was almost on his feet when Hershel's free hand fell hard on to his shoulder pushing him back down like a lead weight. The coin filled his field of vision as Hershel moved it and Danny felt himself getting a bit lost, just staring at the two X's settled in the center of the circle. Hershel twirled the coin again and the lowered it down to the closed Bible, a single finger holding it in place. Danny stared, his mouth dry and head shaking, but Hershel's hand on his shoulder clenched tight once and had Danny's gaze slippin' back up to the man's stoic face.
"You deserve this, son. You earned this," Hershel said as he bobbed his head once in a curt nod, and again Danny's head was shaking slowly back and forth. "I want you to have it," Hershel continued in a tone that was meant to dismiss Danny's backpedalling. Hershel's heavy hand lifted and fell in two quick pats onto Danny's stiff shoulder. "You'll find your boy. I know you will."
Hershel gave one final squeeze to Danny's shoulder, his hard gaze lingering on the small coin settled atop Danny's Bible. Danny watched the man bob his head one last time, a single hand lifting to rub along his chin.
He wanted to say something to Hershel. Wanted to give some sort of snide sarcastic remark that would help him deal with the very powerful and very meaningful gesture that the man had just shown him. Wanted to wash away that pride with ill-placed humor as he always did with Callie when she would look at him with anything but the annoyance and irritation a man like him was fated to cause to those around him. He wanted to but he couldn't.
Because it wasn't just a gesture of faith for Danny. It was a moment of truth for Hershel as well.
Danny settled himself in the chair again and gave a simple nod back to Hershel as the older man shifted his gaze around his kitchen. Hershel returned the nod and moved away, over towards the back door that Maggie and Glenn exited through. He didn't say another word before leaving Danny to silently contemplate the coin and book before him.
Danny's fingers tapped an agitated beat beside the coin for a few seconds, staring at the words written in an arc over one side. 'To thine own self be true'. He stared at those words and felt his lips curling just a bit in a sarcastic smirk. He stared and then snatched the fuckin' thing up. Snatched it up before it could fly away. He held tight to that coin, almost painfully tight as he let Hershel's last words echo in those far off recesses of his mind.
You'll find your boy. I know you will.
Danny let out a stuttering breath, his head rolling slightly along his suddenly stiff shoulders. His eyes rolled right along with his head, around the kitchen, and settling on the large window across from him. He firmed his lips and collapsed in on himself a little, one elbow lifting to hold up his head as he let his gaze drift to his open palm and that fuckin' bronze medallion settled so heavily in it.
He flipped the coin over and chuckled-he couldn't fuckin' help it, he chuckled-at the words inscribed there. 'God grant me the serenity to accept things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.'
Danny stared at those words, and clenched his jaw tight as once again Hershel's final words to him echoed low behind the rush of blood pounding to life between his ears.
You'll find your boy.
Those words were low, but this time a loud, almost mocking reply came back from those dark recesses. A reply that Danny didn't want to hear, didn't want to believe, but knew to be true.
'Not if you're here, Danny. Not if you're here.'
"I don't know what you want me to do, Tom," Callie said tiredly, her voice almost sounding like it was on a fucking loop with how many times she'd said those words to the man standing in her living room. He'd been there an hour now, feigning an interest in her horrid coffee and slightly lacking conversation skills before finally starting in on the real reason for his visit.
Eight-thirty in the morning on a Tuesday.
She should have known better. Really she should have.
But the man was an old family friend. One of Uncle Tug's poker buddies. A man who probably knew the ins-and-outs of her house and family just as well as she did. So slamming the door in his well-meaning, smiling face when he followed her in from her morning run didn't really seem like an option.
But she should have known better. Known when he was still hanging around even after she'd left to shower and change. Known better when he'd started pacing, eyes shifting around the collection of photos on her mantel.
Callie slipped her hands into her back pockets and lifted a brow at the man just staring at her. She shook her head dislodging the wet tendrils of her recently washed hair from her neck and rocked back on her heels.
"Really," Callie said shrugging her shoulders as she watched Tom let out an aggravated breath. "I don't know what you want me to do."
Tom pegged her with a look that she could only describe as lost. Well, lost and fucking pissed off about it. Tom Hagen had been Georgetown's Sheriff for going on twenty-six years now; he'd served in wars, dealt with the shitty end of small town politics, handled drunks, murderers, and whatever else this town threw at him with an ease and determination that Callie had always admired. So seeing that lost look on his face now was jarring. So jarring that it almost had her hands slipping out of her pockets and her resolve fading.
Almost.
Callie tightened her fingers into the fabric of her back pockets and steeled her shoulders as Tom began to slowly shake his head at her.
"Jesus, I don't know Callie," he lifted a hand from where it had fallen to rest at the holster along his hips and ran it over his short-cropped gray hair, settling it firmly at the back of his neck. His eyes lifted from where they'd briefly fallen to her coffee table and his cup, and up to her. "I'm tryin'-I'm grasping at straws here, girl. I got people dyin', families lookin' for answers that I don't have. I got people goin' crazy on me and - I got decades of experience under my belt here. I'm fuckin' oozing it. But this shit. This stuff going down now, people biting other people, rippin' into 'em-" Callie lifted a hand at that point her eyes closing and head shaking to ward off what he was saying. She'd only caught brief glimpses on the news before she shut it off. Shut it out. Her eyes skipped towards the small kitchen table at her hip and she turned away at the sound of his loud sigh. "I need some insight here, some….shit, I don't know. I'm not equipped for this shit."
"And I am?" Callie snapped back, her body turning back to face the man as he half-glared at her response. "The fuck do you think I did, Tom?"
"I know what you did," Tom said tiredly, his eyes narrowing as he muttered out 'smart-ass'. She shook her head at him and wagged a finger before shifting her back to the man again. "I'm just sayin'-I need some help here. You know what's going on..."
"I'm staying as far away from what's going on as I can," Callie said opening the small gun safe she'd pulled out earlier. Old habits were hard to kill even in a small town like Georgetown. She took out her small silver six-shooter from the neoprene holster she usually wore when she ran and proceeded to unload it. Tom shifted behind her and she could almost hear the disappointment in the way he was moving.
"Don't give me that shit," Tom said vehemently, causing her gaze to slip over her shoulder briefly before she resumed the task of locking up her ammo in the other small box on the table and the gun in the safe. "Bobby's right in the thick of it, Gene was tellin' me just yesterday. You know what's happening," Tom lifted a finger and pointed at her as she turned to face him, her arms crossed defiantly over her chest. "And despite your little act here as 'simple local business owner', I know you. I know you got some kind of shit turning in that head of yours. You got experience, you got training, you've seen the shitty side of things just as much as I have."
"That's not who I am anymore," Callie said as forcefully as she could while holding the older man's gaze.
"Don't give me that shit," Tom said in an annoyed tone his eyes rolling away and then back. His mouth opened to probably once again start to beat on the dead horse he'd laid down in her living room and Callie lifted both of her hands to stop him.
"I'm sorry Tom. That's not who I am. I'm just a bartender, I don't know what you want me to do. Bobby said to stay away from it, told me to keep Suze and the kids out of it, told me to keep eyes on his family and keep them safe." Callie shook her head at the thought of her sister-in-law and the kids getting ready to head over from Savannah to stay with her for a while. "Bobby said to keep my head and keep away from it, and that's what I'm going to do. I don't know what to tell you."
Tom sucked in a deep breath, his chest expanding with all the words he probably wanted to toss at her. He took in that breath and then let it out in a long sigh that had Callie frowning. She let out her own sigh, thinking that finally, maybe, she'd gotten through to him.
But she should have known better.
"Callie," Tom's voice was calm, fatherly, and his eyes were imploring as he stepped towards her. "I have known you a long time. And while I don't know exactly what happened in Savannah, I know the nature of the beast. Know what it can do," Tom shifted on his feet and worked to catch her gaze when she looked away. "I've known you and your family a long time. Your Uncle Tug, your Aunt Kate, they did good by you and Bobby when they brought you here; taught you the importance of family. But they also taught you that life, and surviving them rough roads you got to travel sometimes, is about more than just you and yours."
A long beat of silence settled between them. It echoed around and settled heavy on Callie's shoulders causing them to slump as she let out the breath she'd been holding. She tilted her head to the side and shook it lightly returning her gaze to the man who was now just an arm's length away.
"I can't help, Tom. I don't even know where I would start," her hands fell out to the side and then down and she shook her head a bit more. "I'm sorry. Who I was before; it's not me now."
"Do you even know who you're tryin' to be here, Callie-girl," Tom's voice boomed out, his anger at her and whatever the hell was going on around them filtering over his face and into his usually calm demeanor. He stared hard at her and moved closer, putting his face into hers for a second before stepping back and pointing a finger at her chest. "Four years you been hiding behind that bar, figurin' shit out. Four years," Tom took a step back and firmed his lips for a second before letting his hand fall. "I don't know, girl. You really think your Uncle Tug would have been proud to see you standing by tryin' to figure yourself out, when you could be helpin'… in any way you could… That really the type of person you tryin' to be here?"
Callie let her fingers glide over the neoprene fabric of her old Trump Card holster. The blood staining the fabric of the belt where it had been sliced in half as she shimmied out of that car window months and months ago glaring back at her. The thing was useless now really. But she couldn't bring herself to toss it out. Some sick need to keep it as a reminder of old habits that were hard to forget making her keep it in her go bag. She shifted the fabric over in her fingers; her mind still settled back all those months ago, that long ago conversation with Tom Hagen playing strangely back again.
She shook her head at the memory. Feeling that it wasn't quite real. Wasn't her. Almost as if it had happened in another life; to another person.
Her hands fell down to her bag and she picked up the small shining bullet that she'd tossed in days ago. The bullet she'd removed from the Fat Lady before handing it off to Lori. Again she heard Tom's words
'Do you even know the type of person you're tryin' to be here?'
Heard his words and tried to keep the memory of him that way. Determined, angry and ornery as hell, just like she'd always known him to be and loved him for being. She tried to hold on to that image of him. Tried not to let it slip away, just like every other good thing from her life then had.
But it did.
It did, and it was replaced with the last image she had of that strong-willed son of a bitch. That man who had come asking her for assistance, asking her to help him handle something he knew he didn't understand. A man asking her to help because he knew something was coming.
And two weeks later it had. Two weeks later life as she knew it came to crashing to a halt and with the sound of screams and gunfire she woke to this new nightmare of an existence.
She closed her eyes tight against it, trying to will it away. But she couldn't. Just like she couldn't seem to recall any other memory of all the people she'd lost. Couldn't seem to recall an image of Suze, Sammy, Hannah, Nina, Mike, Jenna, Sophia…. Couldn't find any other image but that last one.
The ones burned into her mind for all eternity.
She tried but she couldn't bring herself to see anything else. Because his head had been turned towards her, his pale blue eyes-dead eyes- staring at her, just watching her as the Walkers tore into his stomach and ate his intestines on the stairs to the jailhouse she'd been locked up in. He'd been on his way to her, on his way to see what the fuck the calls on the radio about her shootin' two boys had been all about. She was sure of it. Heard him hollering back at Donnie on the CB, telling him he'd be there as soon as he could.
Callie twirled the bullet she held between her fingers, watching the dark shape of her shadowy reflection in the bare hint of light provided by the overhead moon as it shifted. Barely recognizable as anything to her eyes, but still there. On that bullet.
"I know you." Dale had said as they stood up on that RV watching the road and waiting. His words echoing Tom's from so long ago and probably the cause of her little stumble down memory lane. Callie shifted her weight from foot to foot, and twirled the bullet again. "I know you."
"You plannin' on doin' something stupid," Daryl's voice slipped out into the dark and Callie felt her whole body shake with the shock of it. She clenched the bullet tight in her fist and turned wide eyes to the man staring at her with his arms crossed over his chest.
Daryl lifted a brow at her, his head tilting slightly to the side as if he were trying to see around her and see what she was looking at. Shaking her head Callie slipped the bullet into her pocket, before lifting her hand to rub at the pounding headache marching across the front of her skull. Daryl lifted his gaze to her, his lower lip twitching to the side just a bit so that he could nibble it before he jutted his chin and stared at her.
"Why would you think that?" Callie replied tiredly, shaking her head again. Her eyes shifted around them, and she looked back to see him shaking his head in return. Usually she felt the man's presence, felt his piercing gaze on her the moment it hit her skin. This was the second time in only a few hours that she'd let her mind get so fogged that even the good around her couldn't seem to filter through. Callie sighed and shifted a little back towards her open backpack sitting on the back seat of the Hummer and she shook her head. She turned back to him and watched him again twitch his mouth to the side as he considered her.
"You got that look again," Daryl said quietly, his eyes roaming the area around them before he advanced on her.
"What look?"
"The one that tells me you're plannin' something fuckin' stupid," Daryl snapped back as he shifted and finally caught sight of her open backpack. He let out a sigh and shook his head grimacing at her as she just stared back at him.
"Always said you were a sweet-talker, Dixon," Callie said, shaking her head and shifting back around to finish checking her supplies. "I got a look," she muttered under her breath and then let out a bitter little laugh at him and his fuckin' observant ass.
"Don't take a brain surgeon to figure you out, Callie," Daryl continued, his presence at her back finally setting her nerve endings on fire as it usually did. She turned and found him standing at arm's length just staring at her. "I know you," he said, in an almost annoyed tone. The words echoed around in her head again and she shifted on her feet her hands settling back into her back pockets as she lifted a brow at him. His eyes shifted down briefly, a small frown tightening his lips before he lifted his gaze back to her eyes. "It's Rick," he said reaching out and tapping a finger at the holster around her hips. "I get it. You at least gonna invite me?"
Callie rocked back on her heels and shook her head at the man before her, watching his eyes shift between hers as if he were trying to read her mind. Finally after a beat she nodded and gave him a small smile.
"I was gonna give him the night," Callie said, shifting her eyes back towards the road. "It's too risky to go out now; too dark. I figured you, me and Miles…." Callie shifted her eyes back to him and let out a sigh. "I was gonna come find you."
"Dale said you looked like you needed some breathin' room," Daryl said quietly, his left hand reaching out slightly to poke at the pocket she'd shoved the bullet into only moments ago. "Figured I'd give it to you. Ya know, return the favor."
"Sweet of you," Callie said trying to shift away as he hooked his finger into that pocket and pulled. She succeeded in moving out of his reach and he sighed, his arms crossing back over his chest. She watched his face, watched the emotions he was trying to hide, the questions he wanted to ask. Watched everything slip into those piercing blue eyes of his and she waited.
Waited for him to ask the questions that were burning on the tip of his tongue. Questions she didn't want to answer, but would have if he'd asked. Would have only for him. Because he above anyone else at this farm deserved the answers.
She watched him lift his left hand to his mouth and watched him shift his eyes around her towards the open door of the Hummer as he nibbled at the cuticle edging his thumb. His eyes continued to shift around her, finally landing on her as his chin fell slightly towards his chest.
She sighed then, realizing he wasn't going to ask. Whether it was a sigh of relief, or something else she didn't know. Part of her wanted him to know everything, wanted him to ask the questions that seemed to be plaguing his mind and putting a rift between them. But another part wanted to leave those things in the past. Leave those moments of horror far away from the here and now. Leave them to that person from her memories. That person who didn't seem to exist anymore.
After a moment Daryl's hand dropped and he bobbed his head slightly. The moment for truth on both of their parts slipping away. Daryl sniffed then, his eyes going towards the house in the distance.
Callie slipped her hands out from her back pockets and turned as well following his eye line to the small crosses backlit by the bright-burning lights of the house. She crossed her arms over her chest and winced at the feel of her torn up right arm protesting the movement. Daryl's eyes snapped to her and this time she felt it the second it happened.
"I can't remember what they looked like now," Callie said quietly, her brow furrowing a bit as she turned her gaze to him. "Is it like that for you?" Daryl's brow furrowed and she turned her attention back towards the crosses. "I can't-I can't get past- I only see them the way they looked when they died."
Callie's jaw clenched and she tightened her arms around herself, using the pain of her arm to keep her from falling back into the darkness of her mind. Daryl shifted towards her and she moved herself nearer to him, the feel of his hand brushing the small of her back sending comforting warmth up her chilled spine. She turned her head towards him and could tell by the far off look in his eyes as he stared down at the crosses in the distance, knew without a shadow of a doubt, that he was seeing Jenna and Sophia. Seeing what this world had done, what carnage it had wrought on them. She saw the pain of it all, still so fresh, glistening slightly in his blue eyes in the moonlight. She saw it and she had to look away.
"Is that what happens now?" Callie asked quietly. "Is that really all we get to have? More nightmares? More horror to mount on top of all the rest? It seems so unfair."
"Life ain't ever been fair," Daryl said quietly in return. "Stupid to think it would be now."
Callie bobbed her head slightly in agreement and lowered her gaze to her boots. Letting her hands fall from their protective shield at her chest and down to her sides, her hand hitting off the small lump of that bullet settled into her pocket. She kicked slightly at the ground and sighed. Daryl shifted his eyes to her at her movements and she turned to face him completely.
"I don't want that for us," Callie said in as firm a tone as she could. She watched Daryl's face contort in confusion as he turned towards her, his eyes shifting between the crosses in the distance and her a few times. She sighed and shook her head. "That can't be all we have left. It can't -" she shook her head again and firmed her lips before advancing on him. "Rick told me I should update my contingency plans, and he's right. I asked you-I asked that if the worst ever happened, I asked you to," Callie stopped and clenched her teeth, her eyes clinging to Daryl's as she watched what she was saying roll into him on a rush of too fresh horror. "I don't need you to do it anymore. I don't want you to. After everything that's happened, with Jenna, with Sophia. I can't have that be the last thing you have left of me. That can't be what we have left of this," Callie lifted her hand and shifted two fingers in the space between them. "Because I like this," She smiled at him and caught his gaze the moment he recognized the gesture.
Daryl slipped closer to her and this time she didn't pull away when he looped his fingers into the front of the holster and pulled her closer.
"There are so many other things that I want, and need from you," Callie said shivering as his fingers slid away from her hips and slowly up her arms. "I don't need you to do that. I don't want it. And I want you to promise me, if things go south," Callie stopped and swallowed the lump in her throat her hand lifting to clench into his vest. "I need you to promise me if things go wrong, you won't look back. I don't want that to be our last memory."
"Nothin's goin' wrong," Daryl said forcefully, his hand moving to tangle into the back of her hair as he maneuvered her face so that she was looking at him and not her hand on his chest.
"Wishful fuckin' thinkin," Callie muttered, giving him a half-smile when he grimaced and rolled his eyes at her. "Please, Daryl-"
"Goes both ways," Daryl said in return, his lips firming out into a straight line as he glared at the space between them. His eyes lifted to her and he tugged on her hair slightly again. "No hero bullshit, no lookin' back. I never needed you to do that shit for me," Daryl said gruffly his hand tightening again as his head shook slightly. "And I sure as hell never wanted it."
"You know me," Callie said quietly and he glared at her. Callie stared up at him for a long moment after that and then nodded. He nodded back and caught her eyes quickly before shifting them towards his hand tangled in her hair. A look slipped over his face and she felt his fingers go slack, his body going rigid as if he just realized that maybe he was being too rough. That maybe he needed to let go. Callie gave him a small smile and lifted both of her hands to hold his against her cheek.
"Don't," Callie said quietly rubbing her cheek against his warm calloused hand. His thumb moved gently over her cheek bone and she let her eyes shut. Let herself feel the warmth of his breath as it fanned over her lips. His lips were feather light as they hovered over hers and she longed to just pull him close and close that distance in the rush of everything that was moving between them.
Just as she was about to do it; just as she was about to do what he was apparently still hesitant to, the sound of a car engine reverberated around them.
They broke apart at the same time, Daryl's hand instantly falling from her hair and settling on the strap of his crossbow over his shoulder. Callie spared him a look as they watched the car make its way slowly down the road and turn onto the property.
"No signal from Dale or Miles up on watch," Daryl said quietly, his eyes shifting over to them. "Must be Rick."
"Must be," Callie said, her feet already starting to move quickly towards the house. "Guess you'll get to sleep in tomorrow."
"Shut up," Daryl muttered as he followed behind her, their pace picking up to an almost run in their shared excitement.
They watched the car the entire time, their pace slowing to a trot as they crossed in front of the RV. Callie spared Dale a quick look as the elder man worked his way down the ladder and fell into step with Daryl a few steps behind her. Rick's distinct form exited the driver's side, and Callie's sigh of relief was halted as she watched him turn away from Lori and make his way to the back of the car. Her brow furrowed in confusion and she came to a stop near to the car. It didn't take long for her confusion to give way to anger as the porch lights illuminated the faces of both Shane and Rick as they turned. Her arms crossed over her chest as she caught Rick's gaze when he turned towards her, apparently feeling her presence glaring at his back. Her jaw tightened and head shook slightly as she let her eyes roam over the bruises and cuts on his face, and the wad of bloody cloth wrapped in a half-assed bandage around his right forearm.
Rick's eyes bored into hers, and for the first time in a very long time, his expression was completely unreadable. He looked away as Shane lifted the trunk. Looked away and roughly grabbed at what was inside. No, not what; who. Rick dragged the bound and gagged Randall out of the back of the car and roughly shoved him towards Shane who pulled Randall along with him as he stalked over to the barn he'd been locked in before.
Rick's gaze shifted away from the retreating form of Shane and Randall and over to Callie and she felt the muscle of her jaw ticking with the effort she was using to control herself. Rick's head dipped low, his chin touching on his chest as his hands came to rest on his hips, his eyes staring at some point on the ground between the two of them.
"What the fuck?" Danny's angered voice boomed out and Rick's head shifted slightly to the side in acknowledgement.
Rick's lips firmed tight and he ignored the rest of the group as they began to ask questions. He ignored them and shifted his gaze back to Callie, and she crossed her arms tight over her chest in response. He stared at her for a long couple of moments and finally she just had enough. She pushed forward, towards the house and past the still stoic Rick. She expected him to reach out and grab her, but he didn't. Didn't need to, because his quiet and forceful tone, a tone meant for her and her alone, did it for him.
"I need you."
Howling ghosts- they reappear
In mountains that are stacked with fear
But you're a king and I'm a lionheart.
And in the sea that's painted black,
Creatures lurk below the deck
But you're a king and I'm a lionheart.
And as the world comes to an end
I'll be here to hold your hand
'Cause you're my king and I'm your lionheart.
A lionheart.
~King and Lionheart/ Of Monsters and Men
AN: Wooooo hooo another chapter. I think I'm just gonna leave it here. I'm gonna leave y'all to ponder it, and delve into it's goodness. I was super excite with this chapter to be able to really focus on Callie and Danny again, and I really hope you guys enjoyed it.
Next chapter is in the works people… Callie and Rick have a not so happy conversation or two, Shane and Carl have a sit-down, and Daryl gets some news… so… Merry Christmas. Happy Holidays. Whatever the hell you wanna wish people, do it man! It's more about the sentiment than the words right?!
Much love!