New Meanings To Old Words: LOVE
Not much to say here… I suppose it's just ON WITH THE SHOW.
Disclaimer: Y'all know the low down. I own nothing but Callie, Danny and the rest of the crew of misfits…including all the ones mentioned but not as yet met in our little journey.
NOTE: Flashback is in Italics, song lyrics in BOLD Italics. THX!
As always, read, review and most of all enjoy!
The Line
Everything hurt.
His mouth where the blood seeping from the deep split down the center of his lower lip was mixing with his saliva and coating his chin and neck with gore.
His eyes where the blood and sweat was mixing and blurred his vision painfully as he worked his way through the carnage around him. His ears as they listened to the horrifying groans, moans and screams that echoed throughout field around him.
His lungs and chest with each breath he sucked in through his most likely broken ribs. His beaten body as he lunged over the limp body of the man he'd just shot dead.
Danny stumbled to his feet again, his breathing nothing but harsh gasps as he stared down at the man he'd just killed. The man whose name he couldn't remember-Charlie… maybe. The man who had come and beaten on him relentlessly and forced him to watch as his buddies did unspeakable things to poor Allie and Lisa. Forced him to watch as they pawed and groped at Callie…
Danny's eyes snapped away from fuckin' Charlie- maybe's corpse and began to wildly search the area around him. The groans of the undead sons of bitches that had broken through the forest nearby not so long ago could still be heard and Danny scuttled around the reaching arms of one, his gun hand lifting high to smash down on to the top of the fucker's head before it could sink its teeth into him. The butt of his gun sunk deep into the soft skull and Danny danced back out of the way as its dead weight fell to the ground right on top of poor ol' Charlie-maybe.
Sucking in a few more deep, painful fuckin' breaths, Danny shifted, stumbling again as he worked forward with his free hand settled around his protesting ribs. He pushed past the fuckin' pain and moved. Scuttled around the body of another man being turned into a lovely internal organ buffet for the Walkers surrounding him and made his way towards the shed near the far edge of the yard.
His eyes shifted around again, taking a mental count of bodies as he went. Charlie-maybe was one, Organ-Buffet made two. That left two fuckers unaccounted for. Two fuckers…Danny's eye shifted towards the shed again as he remembered the fat bastard that had chased after Callie when she'd broken free of his hold. The fat fucker that had caught up to her and pulled her so harshly back by her hair that Danny was sure the echoing sound of her scream was the thing that had brought the small group of Walkers to them.
One fucker unaccounted for then.
A stifled, yet still bloodcurdling scream, had Danny's eyes shifting towards the small farm house to his left. He watched as Jed shoved away the body of another Walker before falling to the porch and scrambling backwards away from the rest. Danny's feet slid to a stop and he watched Jed lift Lisa's head into his lap. Allie was staggering up the steps, her eyes wildly looking around at the carnage and the few Walkers still stumbling around the area.
"Jed!" Danny yelled, garnering a bit of unwanted attention from a nearby Walker. He growled and spit out the blood that had settled in his mouth and shouted again. "Jed! Allie! Get inside! Block the door!" Jed's eyes looked up from where he was staring at Lisa's slender unmoving body and he blinked. Allie fell in a heap to the floor beside her sister. "Get the fuck up and move! Now!"
Jed blinked again and Allie settled a hand to his arm. And that was all it took to wake him up. All it took to get him to his feet. Jed stumbled a bit as he pushed Allie towards the door before shifting down to lift Lisa's limp body into his arms. The older man spared a single look back at Danny before turning to go inside.
Danny snarled as he watched the door shut. Two Walkers were pawing at it, and he contemplated going over and taking care of them. Contemplated it for only a second before he started working back towards that shed again. His eyes shifted around him in a quick survey of the area.
RJ was nowhere to be seen.
Gone.
Danny's eyes shifted slightly behind him to where they'd parked the good ol' squad car that he and Callie had stolen from the Georgetown police station weeks ago. His lips curled as he caught sight of RJ's matted dark hair shifting as he moved to open passenger side door. Danny's gun lifted. He lips curled in a sneer as he sighted down the barrel at the boy, and he fired.
The bullet hit nothing but air as the kid ducked into the car and it fishtailed out of there. Nothing but dust left behind and a single Walker shambling down the roadway after them.
Danny snarled, knowing without seeing that the last fucker unaccounted for was sitting behind the driver's seat of the car. RJ had made his choice. And honestly, Danny should have been ready for it.
Should have known better…
Turning away, and shoving his good arm around his aching ribs again, Danny stumbled forward. His eyes were intent on the door of that shed. His blood was pounding hard, the whooshing sound almost as disorienting as the possible concussion that was blurring his vision. He was an arm's length from it now, and the nothingness that he heard coming from that rickety fuckin' outbuilding caused bile to slip up the back of his throat.
He clenched his jaw tight and reached out a hand towards the door handle. Just as his finger tips hit the metal the door swung inward. Danny arched his body backwards, his hand flew forward with his gun, but then dropped back down.
Callie was hunched over, her face littered with cuts and welts and blood that was matting her beautiful amber colored curls to the side of her face and neck. Danny felt his body deflate as his gaze slipped down to where blood had completely covered her shirt and arms, and then further to where a single shaking hand was holding her pants closed.
His eyes snapped back up to her and his mouth opened to speak, but she beat him to the punch.
"Watch out!" Callie reached forward and grabbed his hand, easily maneuvering around his apparently useless fuckin' body. She shoved herself into him, her back to his front as she lifted the gun she'd somehow worked out of his hand. She lifted it and fired, and he was left to stagger back a step as the Walker that had been able to sneak up behind him fell backwards, the back of its head splattering along the grass behind it.
Callie gasped in a few deep breaths, one hand slowly lowering the gun while the other held tight to her still open pants. Danny's hand reached out and began to shake before he could actually touch it to her shoulder. He dropped it as she turned and he shifted his gaze to the still open door of the shed, trying to see beyond the darkness inside. He stepped forward, but stopped at the feel of her fingers trembling on his arm. "Don't," she croaked out and he looked back to her watching a myriad of emotions scramble over her battered face, before she schooled it and tipped her chin up defiantly.
Danny didn't know what to say, or do, so he just clenched his jaw and dipped his chin once in acceptance. Callie's eyes blinked away what he was sure had to be tears and she reached past him to the door. He watched her pull it shut, watched the shudder of whatever had happened in that shed flow through her entire being and he watched her push it away. She sniffed once, and settled her still shaking hand to her pants.
She handed him back the gun and he hesitated only a moment before he took it.
He opened his mouth again as he watched her shakily work to refasten her pants. It took a few tries and his mouth had opened and closed twice in that time. He wanted to say something to her as her eyes drifted back up to him briefly before slipping out to the yard. He wanted to ask her-but again, she beat him to the punch.
"Are you alright?" Callie asked her bloodshot hazel eyes settling firmly on his. Her hand lifted and gripped into the sleeve of his shirt.
"Danny?" Maggie's voice echoed somewhere deep in the back of Danny's head and he blinked. Blinked and fuckin' blinked again as he slowly came back from that pit of horror.
His eyes shifted slowly away from the shed that housed Randall, the one he'd seen Daryl's distinct form pacing near not so long ago. They shifted and landed right onto the concerned face of Maggie standing slightly behind him.
Danny shook his head, his arm shifting idly as he realized that he wasn't imagining the feel of fingers gripping into his shirt sleeve. Maggie's grip tightened briefly before she let it fall, her arm slipping up to cross with the other over her chest.
"What?" Danny asked as he again shook his head and worked to pull himself all the way out of the pit of his memory. He blinked again and gave his head one last good shake.
"I asked if you were alright," Maggie said again, her voice giving way to that worry that was marring her pretty face. Instinct took over and Danny stood up and smiled widely his arms lifting and falling.
"Peachy," Danny said, watching his attitude have the desired effect and that worried frown slipping into a look of mild irritation. He sighed when she shifted her weight from one foot to the other and reached out to squeeze her elbow. "I'm fine, Maggie. Thank you."
"You looked like you'd seen a ghost," Maggie said quietly her eyes shifting out to the shed in the distance and then back to him. He stared at her for a moment and she sighed. "It's not my business anyway," she shifted away and looked towards their camp. Danny turned to look as well and they both let out small huffs of breath at the sight of Callie settled near the Hummer with Ben, Gracie and Miles. "I shouldn't have yelled at you about it. About Callie goin' off," Maggie began her voice barely above what his momma would have referred to as a 'guilty mumble' and he shifted a slightly humored glance over to her. She raised a petulant brow and continued. "Not that I agree with you on it, but I shouldn't have pried. I know you care about her."
"Care about her?" Danny scoffed and as he raked one hand through his hair holding her gaze for a moment before looking to his shoes. "I love her."
Maggie's silence was unsettling and it had peeking up at her after a moment. She was staring at him, her mouth slightly agape as if she wasn't quite sure how to respond to what he'd just said. Danny started chuckling as Maggie shifted her eyes away and tipped her chin up as her mouth hitched to the side.
"Least you can say it," she muttered and Danny barked out a laugh. An act that had her yet again glaring at him.
"Shit girl, you think I've said that to her?" Danny said chuckling as he waved his hand in the air in a dismissive manner. "C'mon now, I was married. I know how it works. Shit like that goes right to a girl's head."
"I can see now why you're divorced," Maggie said back and Danny watched her mouth clamp shut directly after. Watched the moment she remembered that his wife was dead. Watched her mouth open to apologize but he just laughed. Laughed and pointed a finger at her as he worked his way towards the porch stairs.
"Oh Maggie, I do like you, girl," Danny said still chuckling a bit, his eyes skipped back to her. She was watching him with that apologetic stare that she must have inherited from her father and he smiled. "Just because he hasn't said it, doesn't mean he doesn't feel it. Give him time. And if he still doesn't say it," Danny smiled and held his arms out wide. "There's always me."
"Think I'll pass," Maggie said smiling slightly as she shook her head.
Danny chuckled again and winked at her, before slipping the rest of the way down the stairs. He could feel Maggie's gaze on him as he walked, but he didn't look back. Instead he fixed his gaze upon the woman now settled on the roof of the RV, hands on her hips as she and T-Dog looked out upon the fields in the distance. He watched her for a moment, before shifting his gaze back towards the shed in the distance.
His limpin' gimp-ass shifted easily enough, following the path his eyes laid out with very little conscious thought involved. His mind was intent on his destination; the closed door of that shed lookin' very fuckin' familiar in his mind's eye as he walked. The world around him faded, the bright sun of early morning fading quickly into the low hues of dusk…and he was finding himself once again traveling down into that darkened pit where he'd put all the memories of that horrific day.
He'd taken maybe two steps before a voice called out and stopped him dead.
"Danny?"
Carl scuffed his feet at the dirt around the remnants of the fireplace at Daryl's camp. His eyes skipped around area his mouth hitching in disgust at the sight of a few dead squirrels hanging from a line near Daryl's tent. His eyes roamed over the remains of the camp, landing on Daryl's motorcycle and he sighed.
This place, this little camp in particular, reminded him of the Quarry.
The sound of cans clinking caught his attention and he shifted to watch Ben bend down and snatch up the line between them and shove them into an old dirty pillowcase. Ben was grumbling still, his mouth hitched up and his dirty blonde hair falling into his eyes as he shoved more of the strung together cans into his sack.
"Jerk," Ben's agitated voice ground out as Carl stepped up near to where the other boy had moved to pick up another set of strung together cans. Ben's eyes tipped up and caught Carl's with an agitated sigh. "He's a jerk."
"Daryl yelled and kicked us out too," Carl said back, his eyes shifting away from the slightly fuming form of Ben and off into the distance. Over towards that shed where Randall was being held; the one that he and Ben had snuck into by way of the small ladder on the side not so long ago.
"Yeah…well…" Ben said causing Carl's gaze to shift back to him. Ben's mouth hitched to the side and he glanced back towards the shed as well and then back. "Shut up, Carl."
Carl rolled his eyes at the younger boy and shifted slightly on his feet, the slight discomfort in his midsection causing his hand to lift to the still healing wound there. His gaze shifted from Ben back to the shed and he frowned at the memory of Shane and Daryl finding them there. Shane had been pissed, but not so much as Carl had really been expecting. More just disappointed, than really angry.
Disappointed in both of them for being so, "Reckless and idiotic." Daryl on the other hand had been downright livid. Arms flailing and spit flying. The type of mad that had Ben and Carl exchanging odd looks as Daryl kicked at the ground and mouthed off not only the two of them but Shane as well.
The reaction had been utterly baffling for both Carl and Ben. Neither of them had really been able to see what the big deal was. Like Ben had said before, the kid didn't look so scary. Didn't really look much older than Miles. Didn't look old enough to be much trouble. And while Ben had gone on and on about that as they sat there watching the kid struggle and shift as he tried to place where their voices were coming from, Carl had been thinking about other things.
Right and wrong. Guilt and love. It still didn't make sense what Shane had said last night. Callie and Shane's words had echoed one another in a way. The weight of it all. He kind of got that. Or thought he did. But as he'd stared at Randall, catching his eye as the blindfold slid off and he'd finally spotted them, he realized he didn't really get it.
Couldn't get it.
Because the second that blindfold had slipped and he and Ben had worked their way down to face him straight on. The second Randall opened his mouth and started talking; talking about how he liked his dad, and the group. 'Bout how he knew the Greene's real well. Talking and trying to get them to undo the binds, the way he'd lunged at them. Carl saw exactly what he was.
A liar.
A desperate liar.
Ben had seen it too, and it had shocked them both the way Randall's eyes had narrowed when Ben had muttered the words sitting on the tip of both of their tongues.
'Nothin' but a fuckin' liar.'
The more Carl thought about it, the more confused he got about everything. Randall just didn't seem to be worth this… hassle. And really, dad seemed to be making it all worse the longer he waited to do what needed to be done. It would have just been so much easier if he'd have left the kid to die in the first place. Or if he'd have just left him to the Walkers at that community center yesterday.
What was the point of letting Dale talk to everyone? What was the point of giving him even half a chance to hurt them. If Carl and Ben could see that the kid was no good…. Why couldn't his dad?
And that had been the only thing on his mind as he and Ben had walked away from the shed. They'd made to go back towards the RV but Shane had followed, pulling them both aside and continuing his chiding. Going on to the steaming Dary about Callie needing to watch Ben's ass better and the bad influence he was having on Carl. And that had been pretty much it for Ben who flung himself away from Shane, gave a hurt glare to Daryl who hadn't said a word to him and started stalking off towards Daryl's camp, leaving Carl to follow if he wanted.
He'd only taken two steps before Shane had called back out to him.
"Carl," Shane had said in a very calm tone that didn't really match the movements of his body as he shifted from side to side almost bouncing in agitation. "You are smarter than this. I know you are. I don't want to catch you pulling this shit again, you hear." Carl had shaken his head and slightly rolled his eyes catching sight of Ben who'd stopped a few paces away to watch them. "Hey," Shane's voice rang out again and Carl had looked back to him. "I'm gonna keep this between us," his eyes shifted out to Ben and then back. "But you need to be smarter than that. You gotta…you just gotta stop tryin' to get yourself killed, man." At that point Shane stepped closer and narrowed his brow. "Your ol' man should be explainin' this to you and I'm sorry he ain't. But here's the long and short of it. Callie is right in what she told you," Shane dipped his head and then shook it before continuing. "There ain't nothing easy about takin' a man's life, no matter how little you value it."
It was those parting words of Shane's that were echoing in Carl's head now and again he found himself unsettled and just plain confused by everything. Dad easily put a bullet into two other guys at that bar-friends of Randall's… yet somehow Randall's life had become important. Was it because he was here? Because everyone else knew exactly what the outcome would be when the time came?
The kid tried to kill dad, Danny, Hershel and Glenn that day... he deserved what he got. Didn't he?
"You gonna just stand there or you gonna help?" Ben's voice rang into Carl's head and he blinked a few times as he swiveled his head to the source. Ben's hands were spread out wide, his brows lifted high as he waited for an answer. "Well?"
"Sorry," Carl muttered as he shifted around and moved towards the tent and the closest string of cans he could find. As he bent to pick it up he shifted his eyes over to where Ben was working to get another string into his already pretty full sack. "Why are we moving them?"
"Callie said we're gonna be back at the main camp now," Ben half mumbled as he shrugged his shoulders. His smaller frame looked silly wearing what he was pretty sure had to have been a shirt that belonged to the Greene's. The sleeves were rolled up about six times so that they sat at his wrists, and the collar was almost as big as the span of his shoulders, revealing a good bit of what Carl recognized as Ben's Braves T-shirt underneath. But Carl was sure it had to be more comfortable and a heck of a lot warmer than the rest of the kid's vacation wardrobe. Ben sniffed as he looked up at Carl and shook his head. "She says it's safer, you know," Ben's eyes shifted back towards the tent. "Better to be closer. Until everything's all settled."
Carl's eyes moved around the camp just as Ben shifted to his feet. His eyes moved over the camp, the small tent still set up, the string of squirrels, Daryl's bike.
"What about Daryl?" Carl asked quietly, his eyes seeking and finding Ben's form as it headed towards the bit of fencing a little further off. Ben turned around and shrugged, before heading off again. Carl wanted to ask more, because it was just strange not to see Callie and Daryl working together on something… almost as strange as the way Callie and his dad were skirting around each other today. He wanted to ask more but the way Ben's shoulders had hunched had him shaking off the urge.
Carl snatched up the string of cans nearest him and started over towards the sack near the fire pit. Wincing slightly as he bent down to start shoving them into the second pillowcase he shot another look around him.
"So if Daryl's staying," Carl began catching Ben's attention almost immediately. "Why are we picking up the can-alarms?"
"Pshhh," Ben let out a slightly annoyed sort of sound that Carl raised a brow at and watched as Ben turned back to snatch almost angrily at the cans settled near the fence. "Daryl don't need this stuff. He can take care of himself."
The last statement was said in a way that instantly told Carl that Ben didn't really believe it. And if Carl was being honest, it really sounded more like something Daryl had spat out in a rush of agitation, rather than something Ben would have figured on his own. Carl settled a hand to his knee and smirked.
"Yeah, well, if Daryl can take care of himself, why put these here in the first place?" Carl asked, and Ben's gaze instantly snapped over his shoulder to him. Carl smirked and Ben glared.
"Shut up," Ben muttered before pulling harder on the string he'd apparently woven into the fencing.
"Just asking."
"Yeah, well," Ben started, his mouth working this way and that as he worked through what he wanted to say. Finally he shifted his eyes to Carl, his brows rising as he continued. "Yeah, well, you trust Shane so much why you watchin' him so hard 'round camp?" Ben said in a haughty tone. Carl shoved to his feet and furrowed his brow at the now smug looking kid settled on his haunches a few yards away. "Think I didn't see it? Ever since he came back that night with Callie and your mom, you been watchin' him. You finally figuin' out he's an asshole?" Ben finished his brow quirking as he finished asking the question. Carl firmed his lips as Ben stared at him, apparently waiting for a real answer.
After another beat Carl shook his head and glanced around before he worked over towards the next string of the can alarm.
"You're an asshole," Carl muttered and Ben barked out a laugh.
Carl's gaze shifted over his shoulder to where Ben was chuckling and glancing at him every few seconds. A smile fluttered onto Carl's lips as they both started chuckling, each of them enjoying the freedom of speech their little escapes gave them.
Again, Carl was reminded of the Quarry. Him and Ben off somewhere joking about this or that, tossing out words and phrases that they really shouldn't have been saying. At least not before the world ended. And even then, never in front of their parents. Carl chuckled a bit more and shuffled off towards his next target. As he bent down to snag the line, his eyes shifted back to watch Ben slip his knife out of the sheath in his boot to cut the string he'd been working to get untangled. He watched the younger boy shift the knife in his hands deftly, slipping it easily back into its sheath without even looking down to check where it was going. He watched and let his gaze slip up to where the empty holster was clipped to Ben's pants at the hip. The gun, the one that Callie had allowed Ben to start carryin' after dad's arrival with Randall-a move that had garnered a bit of an angered response from mom-now settled at the small of Shane's back. Confiscated after he'd followed them out of the barn earlier.
Carl stared at that empty holster and then looked away, his fingers idly pulling and tapping at the string and cans he held. He hitched his mouth to the side and bit at the inside of his cheek a bit as he thought about the way things worked now. How certain people seemed to just 'get' the way things were, and how others seemed to 'fight' it. His parents seemed to always be on the fighting end, though he supposed dad was finally coming to terms.
Kind of…
His parents coddled him, while Ben….well, Ben didn't have parents. He had Callie. Callie and Danny. And Daryl, too he supposed, to a point. Though Callie and Danny were always the ones that Ben seemed to consider more in that role. But that was more Daryl's doing than Ben's preference… Still, Ben had people who understood the way things seemed to work. Understood what they all had to do, and be able to do.
Carl's brow furrowed as he stared at the cans he held and then his eyes shifted back to watch Ben move a bit further down the line of broken fencing picking up more cans as he went.
"Have you…" Carl started, his eyes dropping the instant Ben's head snapped around to look at him. Carl cleared his throat and grimaced as he shifted awkwardly from foot to foot before continuing. "I know, you know, about your dad," Carl began quietly, watching his words slice into the younger boy staring at him. He watched and instantly felt bad about even mentioning it. But he'd already started now, and he was too curious to go back. "I know about what happened with your dad, but have you ever killed one? A Walker? You know, on your own?"
"Yeah," Ben's voice was small and for the first time in a long time Carl heard those five years between them. Heard it and felt a bit of shame well up in him for asking a question that seemed to cause it. But Ben, being Ben, shook it off and slipped his eyes over to Carl who continued to stare at the younger boy now shuffling towards the two pillowcases near the fire pit. "At the Quarry, with Merle and Daryl. Merle was teaching me to use his gun, said I couldn't afford to be 'stuck on Callie's tit all my life'…." Ben's head shook his head and gave a confused look up to Carl. "Whatever that meant," He said as he shook his head again and Carl couldn't stop the bit of a smirk that titled his lips as he listened. Ben shifted the cans in his hands and grimaced at them before continuing. "Thing snuck out of the woods and I don't even really remember doin' it. I just 'member it lungin' out for Daryl and it was like…I don't know," Ben shook his head and then his whole body, and Carl figured he was trying to shake off the memory of it. Ben's eyes popped up from the cans in his hands and his face contorted in what looked like confusion and something else that Carl couldn't quite place. "I didn't like it," he said quietly as his mouth twitched to the side and he bit at his lower lip. "Guess that's why Callie said I had to wait."
Carl watched as Ben's gaze shifted to the cans in his hands, and then to his feet. He watched the boy five years his junior wrestle with something that he didn't understand. Something Carl didn't understand. He watched and desperately tried to figure out all those unsaid things that seemed to have weighed down Ben's shoulders and had him suddenly looking so…lost. Finally, Ben shook his head and shifted his eyes over to where Carl stood frozen and he poked out a single finger.
"Don't tell no one I told you that," Ben said quickly, his eyes widening just a bit before he looked around. Carl's brow rose and his mouth opened but Ben beat him to the punch. "Callie and Danny don't know," Ben looked off towards the house. "And they'd be mad."
"'Cause you killed a Walker?" Carl asked in a confused tone.
"Nah. 'Cause I didn't tell 'em right off," Ben said shaking his head again and then looking back to the cans in his hands.
Carl watched the younger boy shrug his shoulders and pull at the string in his hands. He stood there for a few minutes watching Ben continue to collect the cans strewn about the campsite. Stood there and waited for the boy to continue. For him to explain. Because yet again, Carl was left in a state of confusion. Confusion as to why the boy didn't like it. Why Callie would be more mad about knowing this long after, instead of just knowing he'd done it in the first place.
Carl shook his head as Ben moved back down the hill towards the large downed tree, and rolled his eyes at the world at large. He let out a gruff sigh and kicked at the small stones scattered about near his feet, no doubt the remnants of Gracie's little collecting habit. He heard Ben's voice telling him to check by the tent for the rest while he finished up down the fence line and he waved a flippant hand over his shoulder in response. Carl's feet began to move, but his mind was no longer on the task. Instead he found his brain giving up figuring out all the answers, and clinging on to one thing and one thing alone.
Ben had killed a Walker.
On his own.
Yeah, he hadn't liked it. But he'd done it. Proven himself a man. Proven he could survive.
Carl hadn't done any of that. Not at the Quarry. Not on the highway. He hadn't found Sophia like he wanted to. Hadn't saved anyone. All he'd done was proven he could stand around and watch the world crumble around him, and let other people protect him. Proven that he wasn't as prepared as a boy five years younger than him.
Carl snarled a bit as he began to skulk his way towards Daryl's small tent. His eyes shifted this way and that, his feet kicking out and smashing hard into the last small string of cans sending it rolling towards the woods. His attention shifted from the cans that were now nowhere in sight to Daryl's bike settled near the base of a tree. He felt his lips turn up in a small smile as he walked up to it, his fingers reaching out tentatively to touch the handle bars.
Daryl had it right.
Doin' what he wanted, when he wanted. Not answering to anyone for things. Not even Callie, who Shane had remarked idly one when he thought Carl hadn't been listening, 'pulled Dixon's strings now'…whatever that meant. Nope he didn't answer to anyone. Didn't have to explain himself, or bother listening to things that didn't make a lick of sense. He made his own rules, kept his own supplies….
Carl's fingers trailed off of the handle bars and towards the saddle bags, his mind recalling the image of Jenna smiling at him while they carried Daryl's bags to the back of that gas station convenience store so long ago. His mind's eye giving a new shine to her pretty red hair as she tossed it away from her face and thanked him for helping. He remembered the way she'd slipped her hands into a bag and gingerly pulled out a gun. Recalled her lips moving slowly as the words freed themselves from where he'd pushed that last happy memory of her.
"I don't even think he knows he has half of these."
Carl's mouth ran dry as his fingers stilled atop the flap of the motorcycle saddle bag. He stared at it for a moment before licking his lips and shifting his gaze around him. Ben was nowhere to be seen, and Carl felt his palm begin to itch. Felt the tickle of something at the base of his neck and he lifted his other hand up to scratch at it.
The vision of Ben's empty holster at his hip slipped into his mind and he let out a gruff sigh. A sigh that practically propelled his hands at the saddle bag. Before he knew it the flap was open and he was not only staring down at a gun, he was suddenly settling his fingers on it.
Again his head lifted, his eyes shifting around him, his body coiled tight as he readied himself to be caught. Because he always got caught. Dale caught him. Shane caught him. Dad caught him. He readied himself and waited. But nothing came.
His fingers tightened around the butt of the gun and he tentatively pulled it, his eyes shifting automatically to where the safety was. He let out a sigh and gave a small nod to himself at the fact that it was engaged and then felt his lips curling into a smirk.
Lifting the gun slightly Carl nodded at the weight of it, and ran his finger over the barrel. It felt good. Felt right. Felt like this was what he needed, not just what he wanted.
He needed this freedom. Needed to show his parents that he wasn't just gonna sit idly by and wait for them to tell him it was okay to do things anymore. That wasn't the way the world worked. Not anymore. Not after all they'd been through. He needed to show his Shane that he was ready to handle this world like a man.
After all if Ben was able to carry a gun, why shouldn't he be able to too. Ben who couldn't even understand killing a Walker. Ben who still cried and threw up when things got to scary.
Carl shifted the gun in his hand again and nodded to himself, his eyes shifting out towards the woods. His mind began to race just as his ears began to pick up the sound of footsteps.
"Hey! You done?" Ben's voice yelled out and Carl shoved the gun at the small of his back and covered it with his shirt. Suddenly he was thankful for the ill-fit of his own clothes as he shifted and skirted towards where he could see Ben coming around the other side of the tent. The younger boy furrowed his brow and Carl shifted his shoulders idly, wincing as he slipped in his rush to meet up with him. "You okay?"
"Yeah, let's go," Carl said quickly. He bypassed Ben's inquisitive stare and ignored the way Ben's eyes lingered on him as they worked their way back towards the main camp, with their bags full of cans on strings. Carl's gaze shifted towards the woods again, and then down to the pillowcase he was carrying.
No more kid stuff.
"Danny," Dale's voice rang out again, this time sounding a bit more frustrated. Which, if Danny had to guess, was probably because he was doin' damn fine job of ignoring the elder sum'bitch trailin' him down towards that shed. "Danny," Dale continued, and Danny found himself snarlin' at the fact that he sounded closer than he had before.
Danny glared at the sight of Dale's loud-ass Hawaiian shirt settling into his periphery and turned his head slightly away. He picked up his pace a bit, his still healing, not gonna-get-any-better leg protesting as he did it.
"You're not going to get away," Dale said, his hand lifting and a single finger catching the corner of Danny's eye. Danny's head again swiveled, this time his gaze landing directly onto Dale's as they both slowed their pace. "I've got a leg up on you."
Danny stopped and turned to face the smugly watching Dale. He lifted a hand just as Dale's lowered and he wagged a finger into the elder man's face.
"That's cute, Dale," Danny said glaring at the man a moment longer before shaking his head and looking away. "Real fuckin' cute." Hands on his hips Danny shifted his eyes back towards the shed for a moment before raking his fingers through his hair. Sighing he shifted his eyes back to Dale and raised a questioning brow. "You do realize I'm avoiding you like the fuckin' plague, right?"
"Yes, Danny," Dale said in an exhausted tone that had Danny chuckling and rollin' the tension out of his shoulders. Dale sighed and adjusted his rifle, an item that as of late Danny had noticed the man to carry with him at all times, along his shoulder. "You and everyone else here seem to be doing a very good job of just that. But as you know-" Dale raised his hand palm up and Danny shook his head before rubbing at his temple.
"Yeah, yeah. You're a persistent sum'bitch. I know," Danny sighed and rubbed both of his hands over his face before shifting his eyes around them, landing them on the shed for a brief instant. Danny looked back to Dale, watching the worry just seem to overtake the elder man's features and he sighed again. "What did you need, Dale?"
"Help," Dale said almost immediately. The tone of his voice reminded Danny so much of a time that seemed so long ago, when they sat up on the top of the RV waiting for Callie, Rick, Daryl and T-Dog to come back from the mad search for Merle Dixon. A time when Dale had looked to him for reassurance on Shane's slowly deteriorating sensibilities. Danny's head shook at the memory and what a fucked up mess that had all become now. He shook his head and watched Dale step closer, that imploring look settled deep into his features. "I need your help. This whole thing is getting out of hand."
"Dale," Danny said tiredly his hand rising and falling in what could best be described as a half-assed shrug. "I can't help you. Not this time." Dale's mouth opened and Danny again lifted his hand. "Look, I'd like nothing better to play Moral Butch and Sundance with you again. Ride in on our high-horse and bitch-slap the idiocy down to a more acceptable level, but I can't. Not this time. I'm gimpin' along the low-road with this one, little buddy." Danny's eyes caught Dale's and he firmed his lips against the slight look of disappointment flaring in those blue depths. "I'm sorry, Dale. I'm not your man this time."
Danny turned away then and he felt Dale's gaze steady on him as he started off towards a nearby tree. He kept the shed in his periphery, catching sight of Daryl still outside now talking in low tones to Shane. Just the thought of Shane pumpin' whatever the fuck he was spewin' out now into Daryl's ears before he went in there had Danny's blood boilin' to a new level of crazy, and if not for the persistent fuckin' shadow of Dale Horvath at his back his ass woulda been slowly limpin' down there to put a stop to it.
As it were, he found himself settling his hand along the bark that big ass tree, closing his eyes to the wonders of the shade it provided and waiting. Waiting for Dale to speak. Because Danny knew that son of a bitch well enough to know that wasn't the end of their conversation.
"He's the boy isn't he?" Dale asked quietly, and Danny's eyes shot over his shoulder to the man. Dale let out a gruff sigh and rolled his eyes along the fields down towards that shed and then back to Danny. Danny stood up straight, feeling every pull of every muscle as he did it and just stared at his friend. Stared at him because he'd already opened his mouth to enough people about this. Opened his mouth enough times after Callie asked him not to, and he wasn't too keen to do it again. Dale's head bobbed and rolled slightly on his shoulders and Danny just watched him continue his conversation with himself. "She doesn't want anyone to know, does she?" Dale said quietly, his eyes skimming back over to Danny. "I can understand why the two of you are being -"
"No, Dale you don't understand," Danny said quietly, his head swiveling away and his eyes immediately finding that fucking shed again. His need to explain everything to someone overpowering his want to stay quiet. Dale watched him and Danny sighed, as his guilt began its trip back up his throat, leaving that acrid aftertaste with it. "He's the boy. Yeah…but…You don't….you don't get it."
"Danny-"
"He was mine," Danny continued sharply, as he stared at that shed. He spared a brief look back at Dale and then furrowed his brow as he snarled at the world at large. "He was mine. My choice. I talked her into us lettin' him tag along with us. I was sober for the first time in God knows how fuckin' long, and that was thanks to her. She saved my life, Dale. Didn't have to, but she did." Danny shook his head and raked his fingers through his hair. "I was two-fuckin'-weeks sober; had me a new damn lease on life and I figured I should pay that forward, you now. So we find this kid and….Callie, she musta seen somethin'… you know her," Danny said as he waved his hand along the air and Dale bobbed his head slightly. "She didn't want to bring him along, just wanted to set him up and let him be. But I talked her into it." Danny clenched his jaw, feeling the muscle there ticking with his growing agitation. "I talked her into it."
A beat of silence settled between them and Danny felt the weight of the world crash down on him. Just as it always did when he was assaulted with the memories of that horrific moment. He shook his head roughly and spit out the acrid bile that had settled at the back of his throat, before shifting his gaze back to the waiting Dale.
"Everyone after that was Callie," Danny continued, his hands idly tossing out towards the camp and house. "Miles, Ben, Gracie, Jenna and the rest-you guys," he shook his head and looked back to Dale with a small frown. "I couldn't…I just couldn't run the risk again, you know. I don't know-I still don't know to this day how she manages to put one foot in front of the other half the time after…" he blinked a few times surprised at the film that had managed to creep over his eyes. "I don't think I'll ever figure it out either. How she can keep goin'. That's just who she is. She's so much stronger…so much better. She deserves better."
"I understand your position on this Danny," Dale said calmly and Danny found his eyes lifting from his shoes up to the man's face. "But do you really think killing him is the only way?"
"I did then, and I do now, Dale. You didn't see," Danny spat out, his mouth pulling into a pained grimace as he was once again assailed with the image of Callie comin' out of that fuckin' shed. "You didn't see what his friends did to her."
"She doesn't want him dead," Dale said quietly and Danny chuckled. He fuckin' chuckled because what else could he do.
"I already said she's better than me," Danny shrugged and continued to chuckle as his eyes shifted back towards the shed. "You're a better man, too," Danny said as his head began to bob.
"There are no better men now, Danny. Just those who believe the world can be what it once was, and those that find themselves stuck in what it now is," Dale said letting out a long exhausted sigh. "Neither side is any better, because neither side can truly be right or wrong, now. I'm not a fool. I understand what's at stake; I'm just not willing to count us out yet. I'm not ready to do that, no without a fight."
"I'm sorry I can't help you, Dale. I really am," Danny leveled his friend with a look and gave him a sad sort of smile. "I understand what you're doing. It's just not something I can get behind."
"I understand," Dale mumbled sadly and then shifted his gaze over towards the camp. They both spotted Andrea catching up with Shane and they both sighed as they met each other's gaze. "I thought she, of all people, would be on my side. Sometimes I wonder if I'm really meant for this world."
"Shit, Dale, none of us are meant for this world," Danny said slapping his hand onto Dale's stiff shoulder and squeezing. "And we need someone like you to remind us of that." Dale nodded his head and ran a hand under his ridiculous fishing hat before skipping his eyes behind him.
They stood in silence for a bit, Danny's hand still resting on Dale's shoulder. That simple contact anchoring both men to their spots as they surveyed the area. Danny's gaze slipped over his shoulder towards the Hummer and his own tent settled in amongst the rest not far from the RV. Looking for all-the-world as if it belonged. But, one lesson Danny had learned well, over and over again since this shit storm began was that looks were deceiving. And nestled snugly in among tents that were so well lived in, that tent's deceptive front held up pretty fuckin' well.
"This whole thing with Randall has me thinkin'," Danny said, though he didn't really know why he was sayin' it. Maybe he felt that after everything. After all of the faith that Dale had shown in him, the man deserved to know. Danny felt Dale's shoulder give a bit of a jump as his voice no doubt startled the man from his own thoughts, and he patted him twice before lifting his hand away. Danny's fingers skimmed his own arm before he started to rub roughly along the inside of his forearm. Dale raised a brow at the now well-known tell and Danny chuckled. "I know, fuckin' scary, right?" Danny shook his head as Dale gave him a slightly annoyed look and he shifted his eyes back towards the shed. "Really, though. This whole thing, everything really since losing Jenna…it's got me thinking. It reminded me of when we started out. Me and Callie. Reminded me of what I should be doin', and who I should have been workin' to pay my life forward to all those months ago."
Danny continued to rub at the inside of his forearm, feeling the thin skin there start to burn with the friction of his thermal shirt and the pressure he was exerting against it. He winced only slightly as the image of Jake pounded to life in the back of his mind.
"Son," Dale's voice broke into Danny's thoughts and the elder man's hand settled on top of his stopping its furious rubbing. Dale stared at him for a moment as if collecting his thoughts, and Danny smiled at him. A man who still considered his words before speakin' was a fuckin' rarity these days; a dying breed. Dale, Hershel, Callie… and Rick, though Rick's days seemed to be numbered as of late…. "Don't make any decisions yet," Dale said quietly, his bushy brow lifting as Danny's did. "I know you well enough to know what you're considering, Danny. And I'm saying to wait. Wait this out. If things fall the way I think they will…well, you'll get your closure. And then," Dale's hand fell from Danny's arm and his head tilted in a dismal way that had Danny wishing he could see past the venom pounding in his bloodstream. Wishing he could stand at his friend's side. "I'm not sure how much use I'll be to you out there on the road," Dale gave a self-deprecating chuckle and shook his head slightly. "But I'm really not sure how much use I'll be here after… so…." Dale lifted a palm up to the sky and Danny couldn't help but smile. "We've started it though. Let's see it through."
"A'right, Dale," Danny muttered as his eyes skipped back towards the shed and the desolate area where Daryl had been pacing only moments ago. "A'right."
Daryl spat at the ground and glared at that fuckin' shed. He glared at it until it blurred into an unrecognizable blob in his vision, and watched that fuckin' blob pulse with the thrum of his blood rushin' between his ears.
He only looked away once he'd succeeded in makin' himself fuckin' dizzy again, and let his eyes slip over the fields behind him. He could barely make out the shape of Shane stalkin' off towards where he'd parked that fuckin' Tucson of his. His own little camp away from camp. Place he'd slept last night, place he kept running off to.
Daryl's mind crawled back to his own camp, where Ben and Carl had tramped their asses off towards not so long ago. His own little haven from the insanity of this group. A haven that had been invaded and then evacuated in the blink of a fuckin' eye.
Evacuated without a single fuckin' word to him 'bout it. At least not a word from her. No, she left Miles to explain. Left that kid to tell him it wasn't safe and more fuckin' bullshit for him to sift through. And man he was sick of siftin' through this group's bullshit.
He knew exactly why she was movin' herself closer to that house and it wasn't some deluded sense of safety in numbers.
Not even close.
Shane's angry fuckin' image pummeled its way back into his thoughts and Daryl sneered as the man's calmly said words came back to haunt him.
"You know he's the kid that set them up, that one that she and Danny found on the road, right?" Shane had said lifting a haughty fuckin' brow and Daryl had shifted his eyes away. But the fucker slipped himself into his line of sight and got his ass right up in his face. Workin' to rile him up, just like he was so good at doin' to everyone else. "You remember the story she tol'. I know you do. Well, Danny told us. Me and Rick. Tol' us what he did. She tell you what he did?"
"Shut up, man," Daryl had snapped back, but all his outburst did was make Shane chuckle.
"Danny wants him dead," Shane had continued, his brow furrowing so far down that Daryl could barely see the beady black specs that the fucker called eyes. "Wants to put a bullet in him himself. Wants it bad. So bad he's tastin' it, I can tell…I've seen that look in his eye before." Shane snickered then and Daryl felt his lips curling up a bit. "That says somethin', you know what I'm sayin'. Says somethin' about what happened to her, says somethin' big." Shane's bulky frame bobbed around in Daryl's vision and no matter how bad he wanted to avoid the other man's stare, avoid his truth tellin', he found himself intent upon it. Intent upon listenin', and hearin' what the fucker was layin' down. "You an' me, we ain't seen eye to eye on a great many things. But I think this," Shane waved a hand out towards the shed door. "I think we both agree on this. I think we know what needs to be done. And I know somewhere under that fuckin' show you put on for Callie and her kids, you're the type of man to get that job done. You that man, Daryl? Huh? Or you they type of man who's gonna let the bastard that got his woman raped just walk out of here no harm, no foul?"
They'd stared at each other for a long time after that. Shane watchin' in ill-concealed glee as his words hit home, took up residence and picked away at that wall Daryl had spent a long time erecting before he came over to that fuckin' shed. That wall he'd told Rick he could put up. The wall Rick trusted him to put up. After a few seconds more Shane bobbed his head and turned away, giving a fleeting look to the shed as he went. He left, but his words lingered on. Droning in an odd way in Daryl's head.
"Say's somethin' about what happened to her, says somethin' big."
Daryl snarled again as his boot skidded along the dirt outside the fuckin' shed. He snarled and railed and felt his blood boiling. He hadn't asked her. She'd gave him an opening to ask whatever he wanted and he'd let it slide. He done it for a reason.
Because he didn't want to know.
Didn't think he could handle it.
He knew what happened after that. Knew how it changed things. You looked at people differently once you knew all about their scars. Knew all those little things, especially the ones you couldn't see with the naked eye. You couldn't help it. It just happened. He'd already got a glimpse into it. His hands not sliding as neatly over her skin, never finding purchase when they reached anymore. His mind constantly awash with worry that maybe he was bein' too rough with her, that maybe she didn't want him touchin' her. Not knowin' how to fix that. Or if he could.
He was already doin' that shit now, what was going to happen if he ever got a true picture of what happened to her?
He hadn't asked her about what happened to her, never asked for details, just the way she never asked for details into his life. Never asked about his scars. Sure she knew the basics, or figured she did…but she didn't pry any further. Because they both knew that it changed things. It took away that bit of anonymity that they had, that buffer that kept whatever the fuck was going on between them from gettin' too real.
Because if it got too real they might just realize that it wasn't real at all…
Which is exactly why she moved herself and her kids away.
Daryl snarled again and kicked at the fucking shed, listening to the voice of that fucker inside start to rattle on. Askin' who was out there, what was goin' on. Beggin' for someone to let him go. Pleadin' his innocence.
Daryl snarled and finally reached for the door to the shed, only to stop again as Rick's calm voice clipped into that pounding between his ears. The image of the man starin' him in the eye, holdin' his gaze intently right before he left Daryl's camp early that morning.
'This is about the group. That's it. That's the way it's got to be. That's what I'm trustin' you with. You go in there, you just remember one thing. Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to, Daryl.'
Daryl's free hand swiped angrily over his mouth, and he glared at his hand on that metal clasp. He dragged in a single deep breath and held it tight, filled his fuckin' chest with it and gave a single tug on the door cracking it open. His gaze swiveled as Randall's voice started, that same pleadin' fuckin' whine that Daryl'd been listening to for God knew how long now.
He stepped inside and let the door close, let the dark shadowy depths of that shed envelop him. The blindfold was still around his neck, and Daryl stared at the kid's scared face. Stared into his eyes, eyes surrounded by bruises dealt by Rick at that fuckin' community center only yesterday. They stared at each other for a moment and Daryl watched the wheels in that fuckin' kid's head start to turn. Start to gear up, and then his mouth was movin'.
"Hey, hey," Randall said, shifting from foot to foot as Daryl stared at him. "Was that you outside? You the one the bald guy was talkin' to? Look I don't know what he's talkin' 'bout. Really I-"
Daryl's fist shot out and slammed hard into Randall's fast movin' mouth cutting off whatever else he was going to say and the hit sent the kid careening towards the floor. He watched Randall's feet scuff along the floor as he tried to sit up, an act made all the more difficult by having his hands chained behind his back. He watched as Randall lifted his head and spat blood to the ground and he worked hard to control the urge to let his fist fly again.
Randall sat up on his hip and sent a scared, almost fuckin' surprised look at Daryl and opened his mouth again.
"What-?"
Daryl's fist flew down hard again, knocking against the kid's jaw and sending his face back into the floorboards. Daryl bounced back up on his feet and finally let that fuckin' breath he'd apparently been holding go. He let it go and then shot himself down to the floor grabbing the now sniveling Randall by the collar of his shirt and pulling his ass up. Pullin' his face up so that he could get a good look into Daryl's eyes.
"Wrong," Daryl snarled as he shook the kid a few times.
"Wrong? Wrong, what? I don't know-"
Daryl's fist again collided with Randall's face again, only this time he held tight to the kid's shirt keepin' his ass from again hitting those floorboards. He held tight and pulled him close as Randall started muttering and fuckin' cryin'. Daryl swallowed back the acrid taste that had settled at the back of his throat before he entered. Swallowed it and banished it from ever comin' back.
'Time to take off them heels and fuckin' apron you been wearin', Darylina. Get back to your roots. Get back to who you are. You ain't the man with dirt on your hands; you the man with it dug up into your skin. Branded…with a number on your name.'
Merle's lilting voice followed by that distinct fuckin' chucle faded into the background and he snarled at the sound of Merle's whistling. Snarled and spat his venom at the scared fuckin' kid starin' up at him. He shook Randall again, listenin' as the kid whimpered and he curled his lips as their noses practically touched.
"We're gonna get this straight right now. I ain't here to listen to your fuckin' sob story. I don't give a shit about you. To me, your ass is as good as fuckin' dead already. So I ain't hearin' anything you got to say unless it's an answer to what I ask you," Daryl pulled the kid closer and spat the last word into Randall's face, catching the fear and confusion runnin' rampant in his eyes. "And for your sake it best be the fuckin' truth. You get me?"
"What question? You didn't ask a question….I don't know anythi-"
Daryl's fist slammed into Randall's face and he let his hold on his shirt collar go. Randall's body again slammed hard into the floor and Daryl stood back up to stare down as the kid rolled to his side to look up at him. Randall's mouth opened to say something and Daryl's chin tipped up, waiting for it. It took a single heartbeat for Randall to snap his trap shut again and Daryl firmed his lips before bobbing his head lightly.
"Smarter than you look," Daryl muttered as he ran the back of his hand over his mouth and slipped his eyes around the shed. His eyes skipped over his boots and the knocked over chair, then back to Randall. That boy stared at him, lookin' beat down and scared as hell. But Daryl could see it, that little glimmer in that kid's eyes when he looked up at him. That little bit of somethin' that had Daryl's hand twitchin' to fly again. That little bit of somethin' tellin' Daryl that he was still tryin' to figure out an angle to work. Daryl's head bobbed again and he spit out the saliva that had collected in his mouth. "Yeah, you're smarter than you look. Then again, you'd have to be to get one over on her."
"I don't-"
Daryl's hand flew out again and this time when it connected he felt his knuckles tear. Felt the skin split and didn't give it a second thought before his hand was ballin' up again and knockin' right back into that smart little fucker's mouth.
I am the line, I hold you near
There is no burden left to bear
I can't see clear
You're in suspension, you know no love
There is no story left to tell
You have no wisdom to pass on
I am the soul of absolution, no man can hide his own illusion
My hands are crippled from the pain
You are the splinter in my vein
~The Line/ Black Rebel Motorcycle Club
AN: Well…. We've certainly got a start down the road to…let's call it ruin shall we. I hope this kind of gave you a good glimpse into just why Danny's guilt is SO strong... and well, I'm thinkin' you're all feelin' the DALE SADS so... Carl is in a world of confusion and at a horrid place of childish jealousy, and Daryl, let's just say I'm laying some ground work here because MY Daryl isn't really gonna match up completely with the complacent sort of wingman Daryl of Season 3. And that's all I'll say on that. (Don't worry though... THE RICKYL BROMANCE will still live on!
I'm hard at work at our next chapter, which will see the rest of what I lovingly refer to as "The Randall Smack Down". We'll finish that up and move right on into "One Angry Dale"…this is just an insight for all you wonderful readers… those are the actual tag lines that I use in my outline for this thing. It's amazing. Right?
Love to all of my new readers and old. Bless you for keepin' up with me and keepin' in with this story. I love you all. And if you have any questions you feel free to hit me up on my Tumblr. BIG HELLO WAVE to my anon that's always sending me such awesome love and questions, and to everyone else who does too!
Much love!