New Meanings To Old Words: LOVE
Hello to all! Thank you so much for sticking with me. I promise…there is an end in sight. If only a brief one as I work to have more of NM:….. (((I'm not gonna give away Season 3's title just yet ))))- done before I actually start posting it. Anywhoooo.
You may be wondering what the fuck happened to The Line pt.2…well, whilst writing I had this moment of "hmmmm" hit me and for reasons as yet unknown to me, the title changed. I think I'd originally planned for some of this stuff to be in the last chapter and that's why I instantly went PART 1 BITCHES…but as wrote this fucker, I started coming to the realization that this wasn't really part 2…but it's own freestanding son of a bitch…so as a result, I've changed the chapter title and well, now we have no part 2… yet…maybe coming up…I dunno. Does it matter? YAY CONFUSION….hopefully averted by long-winded unnecessary explanation.
This chapter, we'll conclude the Randall Smack down with a guest appearance by another character, watch Carl confront his fears and set in motion something that will come to haunt him for a long time. Callie and Danny finally sit down and discuss things - and a few other things leading up to the oncoming storm. You are warned, in case you didn't know…shit's gonna be hittin the fan in a big way.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but Callie, Danny, Miles, Ben and Gracie…as well as all the people we've lost along the way…and the ones we've only heard about…and have yet to meet. *wink wink*
As always, read, review and most of all enjoy! Bless each and every one of you who sets this story up as a favorite, or follows it…and all of you out there who take the time to send me a review or a note to say 'WHATS UP…" LOVE TO YOU ALL. And now…on with the show.
Demons
Daryl's boots scuffed along the dirt-covered floor of the shed as his body yet again recoiled away from the blow he'd just landed on Randall's jaw. He dragged in a deep, fuckin' shudderin' breath and swiped the sweat away from his eyes with the back of his wrist. His ragged breathing was almost as loud as the blood pounding in his head, but neither was quite loud enough to drown out the sound of Randall whimpering on the ground.
Daryl's eyes shifted around him, hitting off the slat of sunlight filtering in below the door for a brief instance. The bit of darkness just at the edge of it causin' his eyes to shift to his boots briefly before once again landing on Randall and his struggle to right himself.
"C'mon man," Randall's whiny fuckin' voice filtered out and Daryl spat at him as he stepped forward. Randall flinched and Daryl couldn't help but scoff at him, still workin' to play the scared little boy instead of actin' like a fuckin' man. "I told you… I told you, man…"
"You ain't tol' me shit," Daryl snapped back, lunging forward and grabbing a fist full of Randall's shirt. "Ain't done nothin' but harp the same bullshit over and over. Broken fuckin' record," Daryl smashed his index finger into Randall's temple a couple of times as he pulled his face closer. "Bitch, you shot at my boys. Your friends tried to fuckin' take this farm. 'You don't know 'em. You didn't try nothin'.' Been over that shit a million times now. It ain' flyin'. So let's try this again," Daryl pushed back and slammed Randall into the wall, watching the kid's head bounce a bit at the impact.
"I … tol' you, man…. " Randall began and Daryl cocked his arm back again ready to swing. "A'right! A'right. I knew 'em but… but barely," Randall sputtered out and Daryl growled. He slammed the kid backwards again and shoved to his feet, takin' at least a moment to himself to enjoy the fact that they were movin' forward finally. Daryl stared down at his hand for a second and dragged in a deep breath, before slipping his eyes towards Randall. He watched Randall sit there catching his breath, his head rollin' along his shoulders like he finally figured that 'innocent bystander routine' wasn't gonna fly. "I-I met 'em on the road," Randall continued in what sounded like an almost apologetic tone.
A tone that apparently spoke volumes to the shadow outside.
Daryl's eyes shifted away from Randall for a second, to where that darkness under the door was flitting around. Bobbin' and weavin' in an agitated way, like a lion pacin' a fuckin' cage. He watched it for a brief second before shifting his eyes back to the now calm lookin' Randall on the ground.
"How many?" Daryl asked as calmly as he could, his own overworked brain and body finding it difficult to settle as he started to shift listlessly from foot too foot. Especially not with a fuckin' audience.
But it was an audience Daryl had invited to the show, so he'd just have to fuckin' deal.
Randall paused for a moment as if he was contemplating his answer and Daryl snarled. He kicked out and landed a hit right on to Randall's already wounded leg causing the kid to yelp and scoot away.
"How many?" Daryl asked again, this time enunciating each word with a twist of his hand on that wounded leg as he hunched over and put his face into the kid's again.
"Thirty!" Randall yelped out as Daryl's hand tightened like a vice over the torn up flesh of his calf. "Thirty! Shit, man. Thirty."
Daryl felt the warm wetness of blood seeping over his fingers as he continued to press on the wound. The disapproving look of Doc Greene slipped into his brain, knowing the ol' man wasn't gonna be pleased 'bout havin' to stitch the boy up again. Snarling Daryl shifted away, his fingers diggin' in one last time before he pulled away and shoved to his feet. Randall was shifting around, no doubt tryin' to hide his injured leg from Daryl as he worked to regain his composure before continuing. And Daryl started pacing as that boy's eyes followed him. The number 'thirty' echoing loud in the back of his head, as his eyes yet again shifted to that shadow just outside.
"Where?" Daryl practically barked. His voice nothing but a scratchy snarl of what it usually was. He cleared his throat and spit out the collected saliva, hopin' it would get his voice back to normal and his nerves under control.
"I don't know, man," Randall started and Daryl lunged towards him again. Randall curled in on himself and flinched away his shoulder rising to hopefully catch the blow as his voice rang out. "Really! I don't know! They could be anywhere. They wouldn't wait for me, man. They don't care about me. Fuck, man. We never stayed anywhere more than a night or so. Not unless…" he cut himself off and looked up, apparently surprised that Daryl's hand hadn't again smashed into him. Randall's eyes followed Daryl as he continued to pace in front of him, waiting for the boy to just continued spilling his guts. "They left me, man. I don't know where they are now," Randall took a breath and looked at the ground, and Daryl saw something flicker in the kid's eyes when he looked back up for a brief moment.
"You think I'm gonna feel sorry for your ass? Think I give a shit your boys don't care 'bout you? Psssht," Daryl shook his head and raked the back of his wrist over his bottom lip, his eyes catching on the blood around the torn flesh of his knuckles. "Bunch of fuckin' pricks and assholes," Daryl seethed out as he shifted his eyes once again towards the door.
"Ain't like that," Randall said and Daryl's eyes snapped back to him. "They took me in. Men and women…kids," Randall's eyes opened wide as he said the word, and instantly an image of Ben and Carl slipped into Daryl's head. Randall nodded, and Daryl snarled at the fact that the kid was able to actually do that shit to him. "It ain't like that. It's not. We're just like you guys, except… we go out… scavenge," Randall's eyes slipped down to his shoes. "Just the men," those words were almost whispered and Daryl's pacing stopped instantly at the tone, the way that the kid's eyes averted. "There was this farm house, months ago," Randall began, his eyes shifting over his boots as he apparently chewed on what he wanted to say. "Man and his daughters, a few others," Randall's head started shakin' and Daryl felt his hands tightening into fists as a chill ran up his spine. He wanted to lunge for the kid, cut him off, shut him up before he could say anything else. He wanted to, but he couldn't. Couldn't fuckin' move, couldn't take his eyes off the kid as he continued to talk to his fuckin' boots. "Girls were cute, real cute, you know. And man, these guys… They did things…bad things…you know, man, they -They made the men watch. Man," Randall looked up and he must have seen the fury that Daryl was workin' real hard to contain. He musta seen it, musta seen that his little attempt to scare him with what his group of fuckin' pricks and assholes was capable of had backfired. Musta seen it, because he was tryin' to push his ass out the back of that fuckin' shed wall and shakin' his head as Daryl growled and snarled at him. "No, man! Not me! I didn't touch them girls. I didn't-"
Daryl growled low in the back of his throat, the sound of it cutting off Randall and causin' him to reflexively curl up again. Daryl felt his shoulders lifting with each heavy breath he dragged in, felt his body rigid with fuckin' anger. His hand slipped to the knife settled on his hip and he pulled it, watchin' as Randall's eyes shifted wide and his mouth opened in a plea that never got aired. Never left his lips, because at that moment the door swung open, and a shaft of light slanted across Randall's eyes causin' the kid to look away. Daryl's head snapped slightly to the side, watching as the shadow took shape and limped its way inside.
"You forgot some parts there, Randy," Danny's voice seethed out low and ominous and Daryl felt his blood begin to hum with the need to let go of what was building inside of him. He clenched his knife tight and watched that same anger slide over Danny's features, remembering only one other time he'd seen such vehemence on the constant joker's face. At the CDC, when he'd put a bullet into the head of Garrison. Danny's hands were working almost convulsively at his sides, and Daryl stepped back to let the man have some space to work, his hand deftly moving his knife back into place at his belt. Danny scoffed out a horrid laugh as he walked and shook his head as he wagged a stiff finger at the floor bound boy. "No, not Randy. You didn't like Randy. Always wanted to be RJ, thought it was fuckin' cool. And fuck, man, if an apocalypse is good for anything it's for gettin' to finally be what you always wanted. Ain't that right, Randy?"
"Da-Danny?" Randall's voice was a shakin' mess of what it had been. No longer that whiny tone, just a simple shocked stutter. Randall's eyes shifted up, and Daryl saw the exact moment that it all hit home. Just like Daryl had figured it would. Randall saw Danny and knew now, without a shadow of a fuckin' doubt that no amount of words, no amount of beggin' or pleadin' or lyin' was gonna save his ass. There wasn't a damn thing that he could say that would change the fact that Daryl might not know better, but they had someone in their group who fuckin' did. Randall's scared eyes shifted over to Daryl for a moment and he glared back, his mouth tippin' up slightly.
"You wanna try that story again?" Danny growled out at the boy, his foot kickin' out sharply and connecting with Randall's wounded leg. Daryl backed up a step and once again ran the back of his wrist over his mouth, watching as Danny stared death upon the boy before him. "Maybe try addin' in some bits of that fuckin' sob story 'bout your daddy. You know, the one that you got me with?"
"Danny, man," Randall's gaze slipped away from Danny and over towards Daryl. And Daryl just fuckin' chuckled at the fact that the boy was lookin' to him for some kind of help. Help, because he saw that murderous gleam in Danny's eyes just as Daryl did. Saw it, and was desperate to get away from it. Daryl shook his head and took another step back as Danny advanced slowly, his hands still workin' in that agitated way at his sides. Clenchin' and unclenchin' like they was on fuckin' fire, same way Daryl's had only moments ago. Randall's eyes shifted back to Danny and he started stuttering again, his back inching along the wall of the shed workin' himself as far away from the slow movin' man headin' for him as his chains would let him. "I thought- I can't believe-man, I thought you were dead," Randall said finally, his lips quirkin' into a smile.
A fuckin' smile.
Daryl's eyes twitched as he realized that this fuckin' boy was still gonna try and pull something. Still gonna try and work his way around the truth that was barrelin' down on him. Daryl's eyes shifted to Danny who had stopped his movement and just stood starin' down at Randall's uplifted, fuckin' smilin' face. He watched Danny's mouth firm into a line and practically felt the waves of his anger radiating off of him. A second later Danny was crouchin' down, and if it hurt his bum leg any he didn't let it show. No, he pushed right past whatever physical pain he was feelin' and channeled it all into his arms and hands as they reached out and grabbed Randall by the front of his dirty shirt. Danny pulled Randall close and glared his righteous hatred into him until Randall's smile faded and nothing but fear shone bright in his eyes.
"You mean you left us for dead," Danny seethed right into Randall's face. Daryl's eyes shifted away and back, his hand lifting to his mouth as his nerves started gettin' the better of him. He'd told Danny to come in here, told him if Rick really wanted to get a message across then that's exactly what they'd do. He'd told Danny to come, and Danny hadn't really said yes or no, just nodded and walked on up to the house to think or some shit.
Daryl told him to come down there, and now he was startin' to regret it. Startin' to regret gettin' Danny's blood up to that fever pitch. Daryl scratched his thumb nail over the stubble under his bottom lip and watched as Danny's head bobbed as his body began to bounce slightly from side to side.
"No, Danny. No, man it-it wasn't like that," Randall's voice was back to that whiny, beggin' tone and Daryl saw the boy try to swivel his eyes around Danny to look at him. Daryl rolled his eyes away again and shifted his gaze towards the still open door to the barn. "Danny-"
"You brought those fuckers to us. You let them…." Danny pulled and then shoved Randall back hard, makin' the kid's head bounce off the wall behind him. "You stole our supplies. Our car. Everything we had," Danny growled as he pulled on Randall again. "You threw our trust back at us, and you left us for dead."
"No-"
Danny's fist was faster than Daryl would have expected, and looked to have hit a bit harder too. The hard thump of Randall's head ricocheting off of the wall at his back and rebounding into Danny's fist again had Daryl shifting his gaze away slightly. Daryl's gaze moved back as Danny hit Randall again, and then he dipped his chin to his chest as he looked to the floor.
Danny wants him dead….It says somethin'… Says somethin' big.
Shane's words echoed through Daryl's head as he slowly walked towards the slightly open door to the shed. His eyes worked around the overgrown yellow-green field and the gray clouds movin' in from thi distance workin' to smother the bit of sunshine they'd seen. The sound of Danny's fists beating into Randall almost beckoning those storm clouds closer. Quickly Daryl's hand slipped out and pushed the door shut; shutting out that growing wind and those fast moving clouds for a bit. Turning he settled his back to the wood still warm from the low remaining sun, and settled his eyes on the man workin' through his pain the only way he could.
And in some sick, twisted sort of way, Daryl took what comfort he could from the familiarity of it all.
The silence was heavy.
That was the only way Maggie could think of to describe it: heavy.
She'd never known silence could feel like that; never knew that it could have a weight to it. Never knew that it could thicken up the air around people so much that it made it hard to breathe. But there it was, settled in around everyone at the farm now. A weight- a heaviness-that was so palpable that she was sure if it lasted any longer she would choke on it.
As long as she'd lived she'd never known a silence like this. Not even after what happened to Shawn, or Annette. Never realized it could be so…deadly.
Maggie shook her head as she walked towards the railing along the porch, her arms crossing over her chest as she looked to gain some kind of warmth. This whole thing was starting to wear her down, settle deep on her shoulders and make her ache for the peace-of-mind that only ignorance seemed to help achieve.
Shaking her head again Maggie shifted her gaze back towards that big ol' RV parked not far from the house, the little campsite of Rick and Callie's group scattered about on the lawn. Her eyes raked over it, watching as everyone just seemed to be moving at this slowed down pace.
Maggie frowned, her arms tightening just a bit in their position over her stomach, memories of the heated exchange she'd walked in on last night between Danny and Callie rolling through her mind. She wasn't sure what their harsh whispered words had been about, not fully, though she had caught the look in Danny's eyes when he passed her. The look that said he'd just done his best impression of an unbalanced force, and yet again came up on the losing end.
Maggie had tried to talk to Callie after that, but the woman was in no state to listen. Callie's eyes had remained locked on the door to her father's office, Maggie's words bouncing off deaf ears and echoing along into that growing heavy silence. Callie had only spared her a single look of apology for her actions, before grabbing up the supplies she'd been waiting for Maggie to bring and heading into daddy's office.
Maggie had stood there for a few seconds more, wanting to pin her ear to that door, as she'd done when Callie had told daddy about her family-what she'd done. Wanting to try and hear the discussion going on inside between Callie and Rick. Wanting to, but in the same instant not wanting to know even a little bit of what was being said.
Wanting that ignorance she'd always rebelled against as a child.
Her willingness to leave this entire situation in the hands of others was surprising, but apparently a feeling shared by her father, who had merely nodded as she left the room moments ago.
Maggie shook her head at herself again and let her gaze slip down towards the small shed in the distance. The one that Shane had locked Randall up in to wait out his sentence. A shiver ran up her spine as she stared at that shed, her mind slipping back to right before all of this happened. When she spent her time out on this porch staring at the barn where her step-mother and brother, and all the rest were being held. She remembered how unnerving that had been, and couldn't help but to laugh to herself at just how naïve she'd really been about the world they were livin' in now.
The sound of the screen door opening behind her had her foot stopping in mid-step towards the stairs and her head swiveling around. Glenn cracked a crooked grin at her, his head ducking slightly as he turned and put both hands to the door in an effort to quiet its creaking hinges as it closed behind him. He grimaced at the sound that suddenly seemed louder than before and Maggie gave him a very small smile in return.
"Hey," Glenn's voice came out a little above a whisper and the way he approached her reminded her so much of the first time they'd talked here that Maggie couldn't help but smile a bit more. He stepped up towards her and she turned slightly as he came to stand beside her. His eyes shifted out to the RV quickly and she watched as worry marched an ugly path across his brow.
"Hey," Maggie said in return, her arms tightening across her abdomen. Glenn shifted his attention back to her and smiled slightly. "Where's Daddy?"
"In with Beth," Glenn supplied quickly, his eyes shifting over to Maggie's face. "Doing what everyone else is doing; avoiding Dale," he said his brow quirking slightly in an almost apologetic manner. She nodded again and let out a long breath before turning to face him, her hand reaching out and touching onto his arm. His hand lifted and settled over hers where it rested on his arm and he squeezed just a bit.
It said a lot about her father's trust in Rick and Callie that he would relinquish his office to them last night. And it said a lot to her now, that he would relinquish control of what happened to that boy to them…well to Rick… now. Said a lot to her at least, how willing her father was to leave this situation to another's hands. Maggie felt Glenn's fingers tighten around her hand slightly and she shifted her eyes away from the campsite up to his face. He was watchin' his people mill about; but slowly his gaze drifted off towards where Dale was settled not far off with Andrea.
"You can go-"
"Do you know him?" Glenn asked quietly and Maggie's head snapped up, chin lifting and shoulders squaring at the abruptness of the question. Glenn's eyes shifted over to her and he must have felt he'd said something wrong because he started stammering. "I mean-I just-Shane said," Glenn stopped and firmed his lips, the muscle of his jaw working as he clenched his teeth and apparently gathered his wits. Maggie watched him shake his head and her brow furrowed just a bit at his expression. "Do you know him? Shane said he knew you, knew your family. Your father won't talk about it, at least not to me, and he won't let Beth say a thing. But- it's important, Maggie. Do you know him?"
"No," Maggie said quietly her head shaking as her eyes shifted over to the small shed off in the distance. "And why is it important?" Maggie asked angrily. She looked back to find Glenn staring hard at her. She turned to face him and shook her head again. "I don't know him and honesty if I did," she took a breath and stepped towards him, watching his eyes again shift out to Danny. "If I did, would it really make a difference?"
"I don't know," Glenn said almost sadly his eyes shifting to her and then back out to Danny. "I don't think there's anything that could make a difference to Shane, but-"
"It's not really up to him," Maggie snapped, and then grimaced when Glenn shifted a raised brow towards her. "Daddy won't listen to him. Daddy's not waitin' for his word on a damn thing. He's leavin' this to Rick. Rick and Callie."
"Yeah," Glenn said shifting his own eyes back towards the house. "What do you think we should do?"
"I don't know and I don't care," Maggie said succinctly her arms yet again lifting to cross over her body as Glenn shifted a surprised look at her.
"You don't care? How can you not care? This is your family, your house, your land…." Glenn's hand lifted, his palm raised towards the sky as his hand arced out towards the fields beyond before falling back to his side. "I understand you're devotion to your father and your wanting to follow his rules. I do. I understand that, Maggie, but this is….I mean, we're talking about killing someone. You have to have an opinion on that."
"My unwillingness to get involved in this has nothing do with my father and his rules. I respect that this is his house, but he lost the ability to voice his commands to me when he left to get himself a drink when we needed him most. I love him, and I do respect him, but I don't take orders from him," Maggie said firmly her own hand lifting towards the house. "I don't want to get involved in this. I don't know that boy, Glenn. I don't know him, and I sure as hell don't care to get to know him especially after knowing he and his group tried to kill two people that I love very much." Glenn's lips firmed and his shoulders sagged as Maggie took a step towards him. "I'm staying out of it because I don't want that responsibility. I don't want it, Glenn. I'm not strong enough for that."
"You are," Glenn said quietly, his eyes shifting over her face a few times before his eyes moved back towards the screen door.
Maggie watched him for a few seconds before shifting towards him and putting a hand to his shoulder and then his face. His hand was digging around and fiddling with something in his pocket as he surveyed the area and she shook away the want to ask after it. He turned towards her at the feel of her hand and shook his head slightly, his eyes again shifting towards the shed as his hand fell from his pocket.
"You are," Maggie said, and his eyes snapped back to her. The confusion on his face made her smile just a bit and she lifted her other hand to frame his face, making him look at her as she spoke. "You're allowed to have an opinion on this, Glenn. Just because Daddy doesn't want us involved, it doesn't mean you can't be. He won't look down on you for it. He trusts you," Maggie pulled on Glenn's face forcing him to keep eye contact as he tried to look away. "You can have an opinion. I know you do have one. You're strong enough to fight for what you think is right, Glenn. You're strong enough to stand up for yourself. You just need to speak up and make yourself heard."
Silence stretched between them for a moment, and it was heavy, but not with the weight of whatever was in the air around the house. It was a different sort of heavy, one that had Maggie smiling just a bit when Glenn's hands lifted and covered over hers on his face. She thought he was going to say something, hoped that he was going to say that something she so desperately wanted to hear, but instead he squeezed her hands and lifted them away from his cheeks. She watched him shift his eyes out towards the shed where Randall was, and then over to where Dale sat alone now by the RV. Watched him nod his head slightly and felt the chill in her bones when his hands finally drifted away from hers and he stepped off the porch onto the stairs.
Watched him and was left to wonder which side of the fence he actually sat on.
"Get the hell out of here," Callie seethed out through her clenched teeth as she glared at Jimmy. He was a full foot further away from her now, his eyes wide as saucers as he backed away some more. Her hands were clenching and unclenching along the worn banister of the Greene's front porch as she glared over her shoulder at the boy.
"I just mean-" Jimmy stammered out and Callie let her right hand fall from the banister as she half-turned towards him.
"Now," she said, and the power and venom with which that single word escaped her lips sent the boy into immediate motion. He tripped slightly as he back-stepped and she turned away as he righted himself and the small table he'd knocked into.
Callie listened to the sound of the boy's shoes scuffing along the wooden planks of the porch and let out a sigh at the telltale sound of the old hinges of the screen door signaling his return to the confines of the house. Her head sank down, her body bowing out as her head settled onto her white knuckles where they remained tight on the whitewashed wooden banister. It was the same place and same position she'd been in last night-no wait, this morning, when Rick had come to find her. The same place she'd returned to after Rick had left to talk to Daryl. The same place she'd found herself returning to over and over throughout the course of the day.
The only place with a perfect view of that small shed off the side of the house where Randall was being kept.
Callie sighed again and slipped her head up from her hands, her eyes instantly catching on that fucking shed and holding tight to the sight of the men making their way up from there towards the camp. Daryl's form was as distinct as ever, his broad shoulders slightly hunched in as he walked with his head turned slightly back to watch the other man. The other man, whose distinct limp gave him away more clearly than the almost unruly mass of his dark hair or his lithe frame ever could have.
Her head lifted the rest of the way her body remaining bowed over the railing as she watched them. Danny's agitation clear as day as he practically bounced and paced his ass towards where the rest of their group-at least those interested in what was about to be said—started towards them. Callie's eyes shifted slightly as she felt Rick's heated stare settle on her. Rick's eyes remained on her for a brief moment before he looked off and met up with Daryl, while Danny continued to mill about off towards the side a bit.
Callie's head began to shake and it seemed the world at large knew that this day was a far cry from good, as the clouds overhead began to darken more and the wind rushed along the grass and trees. The signs of the impending storm all too easy to see, and a harsh reminder that the group's warm, sunny days were soon to be a thing of the past.
Callie stood there, her mind blanked out to the world around her as she fought off the pull of the pit where she'd shoved the horrid memories that seemed to plague her more often than she cared to admit these days. She expected to fall back into one of those memories now, but instead, the almost surreal conversation she'd shared with Jimmy repeated in her head. His oddly stated words of pity and remorse for the boy in the shed, pleas for 'a member of his father's congregation' once again lighting her blood on fire. The audacity of that boy to come to her and speak to her of saving Randall.
Her of all people.
Son of a bitch was lucky she didn't shoot his ass.
After a few moments, the screen door's hinges groaned and squealed and Callie's brow twitched at the sound.
"I'm sorry," Hershel's voice echoed out behind her and Callie slipped her gaze over her shoulder to him. She speared him with a look that she was sure the elder man read loud and clear when he sighed and lifted both of his hands in mock surrender. She shifted her eyes back towards the shed and then up to the sky as she listened as Hershel shuffled closer. "He's tryin' to… make amends."
"He's barkin' up the wrong fuckin' tree," Callie muttered, her eyes shifting to where Hershel had come to a stop close to her right shoulder. Her eyes met his and he held her gaze in that steady, forthright manner she'd come to expect and respect in him.
"He only came to you, because he knows you can-"
"Don't," Callie lifted her hand and wagged a single finger at Hershel, watching his eyes widen slightly before his lips firmed and his gaze softened. "You and I have both opted to stay out of this. Which means we are not discussing what I can and can't do with regards to Rick's current state of mind. We have both said we are leaving this in Rick's hands; both agreed to stand by his decision. It's a moment of rarity for us to agree… So just…don't."
Hershel sighed heavily but his chin dipped in a motion of acquiescence and Callie let her fingers fall back to the porch railing. Callie's gaze settled back upon that small shed in the distance and her fingers began to chip idly at the weather-worn paint on the surface.
"You know him?" Callie asked quietly, her eyes flickering briefly to the man standing next to her. He looked at her and like anyone entering into an uncomfortable conversation she immediately felt the need to clarify. "Jimmy knows him, so I'm assuming you do as well."
"He doesn't know him," Hershel said gruffly, his annoyed gaze slipping back towards the house briefly. "He shouldn't have given you that impression. I'm sorry….again." Hershel shook his head and looked back at her as she stood up and turned to face him. "He doesn't know him and neither do I. The boy's close to Maggie's age, but I doubt she'd say she could remember, or knew him in any respect. Maggie may have had her rebellious moments but when it came down to it her circles never stretched quite as far as all that. And even the friends she didn't think I knew about, I did." Callie smirked a bit at that and he returned the gesture with a slight twitch of his brow before continuing. "But his family was a part of the church. James, that's what Danny said his last name was," Hershel said, and Callie felt her head bob slightly in return and watched Hershel's do the same. "It's a familiar name. Now, I can't say with certainty it's the same boy, but I do remember hearing the name James in a mass a few years back. Woman died of cancer, left behind two boys and a husband, all of which left town for a new start in some other city."
"Savannah," Callie heard herself mutter in response, her mind recalling the story that the fast-talking Randall James had told her and Danny months ago. Her eyes tipped up to see Hershel regarding her with an oddly inquisitive look. A look she ignored as she shifted her eyes down to where her dirt-encrusted fingernails were chipping at the paint on the railing before her.
They stood in silence for a few moments before both of their gazes slid, almost unwillingly, towards where the group was gathered not far off. They watched together as Danny's troubled mind snapped at something being said between the assembled group. In the next instant Callie's body tingled in that heated awareness as Daryl's gaze slipped over his shoulders to her. Her spine stiffened slightly as her hands rose up and her arms crossed protectively over her chest as Rick's gaze followed. She clenched her jaw as the both men shifted their gazes back to the people near them, and watched as Danny blew past the reaching hands of Glenn as he made towards the cars and the road. No doubt needing to get himself a good ol' mind-clearing walk in.
She just hoped the fucker wasn't gonna walk his ass into more trouble.
"He's in a bad way with this," Hershel's voice echoed out and Callie tipped her head to the side before frowning at him.
"I know," Callie said on a sigh, a single hand shifting out and raking through her hair as the wind again kicked up around them.
"You know him," Hershel said after a beat, his low rumbling voice echoing just a little as it sounded over the gusting winds. Callie's gaze slipped up to him and he raised a single brow at her. A haughty, knowing brow that had her chuckling slightly as his head tipped towards the shed in indication of who exactly he was talking about.
"I saved his life… once," Callie said quietly, her eyes moving back towards the shed in the distance. Danny's words, words he'd said to her only a few hours before and each and every fucking day since Randall had been brought onto this farm, slipped into her brain. And suddenly they were all she could think of to say to the man standing there waiting and deserving more from her. "He left us for dead."
She didn't really expect Hershel to respond to her, so she wasn't surprised when the only thing that answered her was the howling wind tunneling over the porch. They stood in an oddly comfortable yet weighty silence, their gazes bouncing from the shed, over the fields, over the group still holding commune off in the distance, and towards the figure of Danny limping back and forth along the roadway into the farm. Her gaze skipped over each scene Callie didn't know how many times, until finally the wind shifted into something more sinister and Hershel snapped both of them out of the odd little cycle.
"There's a storm comin' in," Hershel said and Callie again found her head bobbing in agreement as her eyes slipped immediately to the dark clouds overhead. "Probably a good bit of luck for us right now," Hershel said thoughtfully and Callie slipped her eyes over towards him.
"Why's that?" Callie asked as she raised a brow to the way his gaze lingered down near the barn.
"Jimmy stopped me inside, said he'd been out-" Hershel raised a hand to Callie's exasperated sigh and bobbed his head a bit. "I know you instilled a lockdown, I've already called him on that. But I think for once you may be happy that boy didn't listen."
"I will never be happy about that boy goin' off on his own," Callie muttered as she rubbed at the bridge of her nose. "He's gonna get himself killed."
"I understand, however, what he had to tell me is important," Hershel said sternly, his eyes roaming over her face. "The silt of the creek that runs not far into the woods back there usually dries up once winter rears its ugly head. Ground gets too hard below for any of the moisture to do much of anything. Fortunately for us, the nights haven't gotten quite so cold yet, and with this comin' storm we may get a bit more help."
"I'm sorry, I'm lost," Callie said tiredly as she dropped her hand to her side and shook her head.
"There are Walkers in the woods," Hershel said quietly his gaze slipping this way and that as if he didn't want anyone to hear. Callie's brow furrowed and her hand instantly slipped to the gun settled in the holster at her hip. "From what Jimmy said they're stuck in the silt. Now, he only checked the area that we usually found them," he stared poignantly at her and Callie frowned as her hand lifted to rub against her forehead.
"And he didn't take care of them," Callie said harshly, the reminder of the boy's words as he explained what he'd been trying to do with Jenna straining her voice slightly.
"He didn't want to do something that he could get in trouble for again," Hershel said and Callie chuckled.
"You mean like sneakin' out when we're on fuckin' lock down? That was good of him," Callie shook her head and Hershel let out a long suffering sigh. "You're sure treatin' his actions with a good bit more leeway than I've seen before."
"Yes, well, I'm tryin' to support him. Help him," Hershel's gaze slipped away and Callie followed it to where Danny's distinct limping figure was still pacing a ways off. Callie slid her eyes towards the elder man and caught his gaze. After a moment Callie sighed and firmed her lips, her eyes shifting to where the group was now disbursing. She followed Daryl's agitated movements as he worked to keep a good distance between him and the following form of Carol. Her hands fell back to the holster at her hip and she watched Lori as she reached out to Rick whose attention was so intent upon the barn he didn't even realize she was there as he left the poor woman grasping at thin air.
"Get Glenn," Callie said tiredly her eyes following Rick's figure for a moment and then sliding towards the woods beyond. She turned towards Hershel, catching the elder man's slightly shocked expression and waving it off. "Have him get T-Dog and Shane," Callie said and then instantly lifted a hand to hold the angered remarks at the mention of the former Sheriff's deputy. "I know…you don't have to say it. I know. But I'd rather give him something else to occupy his mind right now, help give Dale the room he needs to do what he wants." Hershel huffed but didn't say anything more just simply bobbed his head once. "Have Jimmy go with him, help him to see how useful workin' in a fuckin' group can be. Tell them to try and do a sweep before the storm moves in take care of what they find. Quietly," Callie said lifting a finger and catching Hershel's gaze. "There's still a chance Randall's people could be close, we don't need to flag 'em towards us."
"You're not going to go?" Hershel asked, and Callie smiled a bit at him.
"I trust them to get it done," Callie said shifting her eyes back towards the campsite. "Besides, I have something I need to take care of here."
Carl felt alive.
He felt invigorated. For the first time since they'd left the Quarry he felt really alive. Felt like he was ready to start surviving. His feet skipped along the woods, his arms swinging out in a childish manner that he just couldn't contain no matter how hard he tried. He smiled at the way the breeze rustled the branches above him and marveled at the fact that he was truly alone.
His eyes skipped behind him, expecting to see either Ben or possibly Gracie at his back, but no one was there. Nope, everyone was so involved in the Randall problem- that his dad and Dale were only making worse and worse- that no one had noticed him heading off. And with the short leash that Callie had Miles put onto Ben and Gracie, neither of the Sullivan kids had managed to catch up to him either.
He was finally on his own, and feeling good. Feeling ready.
The comforting weight of the gun he'd taken from Daryl's bike earlier settled at his back brought a bigger smile to his face. His eyes slipped around him as he walked, and he listened almost intently to the world around him.
This was his moment. He was gonna start proving himself today. And the first step was proving to himself that he was man enough to do what needed to be done. Prove that he could take out a Walker on his own. Because, heck if Ben could do it, so could he.
Now he just needed to figure out where it was.
He'd heard that kid Jimmy talking to Hershel about it at the house. He'd listened to the stilted conversation, more a one-sided brow beating of sorts as Hershel told Jimmy to leave Callie be after the kid apparently said a few more idiotic things to her. Carl remembered his hands tightening into fists as he heard Jimmy mutter something about 'that girl'. That girl.
Jenna.
Who he'd shot and left for dead. God, just hearing Jimmy mention her in passing made Carl's eyes start to blur and his blood boil.
Carl had stood there listening a few moments longer, his temper cooling as Jimmy rushed into a different topic as Hershel's own temper apparently flared. Carl's intent to slip back down towards the shed and up into that hayloft again to watch as Daryl questioned Randall had been completely deterred by the new direction of the hushed conversation. Jimmy mentioned that the mud was starting to dry up, something about a few stragglers still caught up in it and not knowing what to do about it.
Hershel had said he would talk to Callie, and see what she said and Carl had scoffed and rolled his eyes. It really was amazing how silly the Greene's were about this. How stupid everyone was being about things lately. How no one seemed to know what to do anymore.
Carl knew what needed to be done. Knew exactly what Callie would tell Hershel. And he figured if he was going to get a chance to do anything on his own this was probably the perfect chance. As long as he could find one before Hershel got to talk to Callie about it.
Carl shifted around a large tree and stopped, his head swiveling right and left as he listened. Something wasn't right. There was a sound; a sound he was sure wasn't just the wind rushing through the leaves. He shifted again and his foot slipped out from under him, his backside smacking hard into the ground below as he slid down a small embankment. He winced, feeling his still healing gut get tugged and pulled in painful directions as he worked to slow himself to a stop.
Dragging in a deep breath Carl closed his eyes, but immediately opened them again as he came face to face with the source of the odd sound on the wind. It was a sound he'd heard enough times that he actually felt foolish for not recognizing it right off. That strange snarling groan, that snapping of teeth and gargling breath. It took him exactly two seconds before he was up on his feet, his fight or flight response taking over and sadly shifting right into flight.
Because that's all he'd been taught to do.
Run away.
Carl's hands were scraping at the rocks and soft dirt of the incline, his small still hurting frame climbing back up and away as fast as he could. His breathing coming out in short gasps of horror as images of what happened at the Quarry, at the CDC and then on the Highway assaulted him. It was the image of Jenna and Sophia running off that stopped him. That image of those two girls that had him twisting around and remembering. Remembering why he'd come out here in the first place.
He shifted around and sat at the top of the embankment, and he steeled himself to fight. His hand slipping back towards the gun he'd stolen, ready to pull it. He stared down at the Walker and let out a long low breath as he realized why the thing hadn't followed him.
Jimmy's mumbled words about the silt, and stragglers started to make sense and Carl felt his lips curl up in a small smile at his luck. He'd actually found it.
The shirtless bedraggled Walker lunged towards him again, its thin arms covered by deteriorating gray-toned skin swung around wildly trying to grab him. Carl shifted on his backside and slipped back down, his eyes sliding to where the dead man's feet were stuck in the muck. A small scoff of a laugh slipped out between Carl's slightly parted lips and he blinked away the small bit of wetness that had filmed over his eyes. He slid down the rest of the way and cocked his head to the side as the Walker continued to swing its arms wildly around him.
Taking a tentative step forward Carl couldn't seem to stop his heart from pounding a bit more with each gargling snarl that the Walker made, and each determined swing of its frail-looking arms. He'd seen Walkers before, been chased by them and watched them, but never really looked at them. Never been able to. And if he was being honest, never really wanted to.
'You have enough things to give you nightmares now, baby. Why add to the list?'
His mom's often said words echoed in the back of his mind as he crept forward and began to circle around the Walker. He smirked as the thing continued to swing its arms, its body awkwardly moving around with him, desperately reaching but not having any luck in getting free of the muck it was stuck in.
Carl pulled the gun from the back of his waistband and tested its weight a few times, his eyes stuck to the figure of the Walker. He sighted down the barrel of the gun, lining up his shot a few times, the moving target adding a level of frustration he hadn't been prepared for. Snarling just a bit, Carl worked again to line up his shot. The Walker turned, white-washed dead eyes settling right onto his and he froze, his gun slipping down further and further.
Suddenly, as this Walker pawed and reached for him bound by the muck it had gotten itself stuck in, his mind was racing back to that moment in the shed. That single point when Randall had taken in his and Ben's silence and realized that they saw right through him. Saw exactly what he was. That moment when Randall had started lunging at him, bound only by the chains holding his hands behind his back. That moment when Randall's voice took on a strange edge of desperation that Carl was pretty sure he would have heard coming out of that Walkers mouth if it could speak.
Randall wasn't any better than this Walker stuck in the muck.
He was a liar. He was dangerous.
Just like this Walker was dangerous.
Carl's gun lifted again and he sighted, but again he lowered it, his eyes holding on the dead man's as it continued to reach so desperately for him. He knew what he wanted to do but there was something pulling at him…
He knew what he wanted to do, but for some reason he couldn't seem to hold the gun up. Maybe it was his still healing wounds, making the weight of the gun too much for him. Maybe it was that fleeting look of Ben's that replayed over and over in his head. That horribly lost and childish look that had slipped over Ben's face when he'd said that he didn't like killing the Walker.
Maybe it was fear creeping its path up his spine and shaking his hand.
Carl knew what he wanted to do, but he was finding it harder and harder to figure out if he actually needed to. Maybe that was the key to all of it. Figuring out the difference between needing to and wanting to. Maybe that's why his gun kept wavering, why his dad kept trying to pull away from the want to kill Randall and was simply trying to find the need...
Maybe….
The Walker lunged again and this time it fell towards him, and Carl shot backwards as its fingers scraped over his boots. He pulled himself along the leaf littered ground and sucked in a deep shaking breath as the thing continued to claw at the ground towards him, and in the haze of his fear Carl saw that Walker making ground and getting closer even though that couldn't have been the case. Carl blinked past the wetness that had welled up in his eyes and watched as the Walker growled and groaned; its movements almost frantic with need. Its fingers scraped the ground near to Carl's boot and he gasped as he shoved to his feet.
Without another glance back, he was running full tilt away from the still stuck Walker. Running away, his heart beating a horrid rhythm in his chest, while his still healing stomach twisted and turned. He ran and ran, and it wasn't until he was a good distance away; wasn't until he'd stopped right at the edge of the forest, hands settled at his knees while he dragged in heavy breaths and dry-heaved a few times from the energy he'd just exerted that his head snapped back p and behind him in horrifying realization.
He'd dropped his gun.
"And our women," Daryl's voice rumbled low somewhere in the back of Danny's memory as he continued to pace back and forth along the roadway into the farm. "They'd wish they were."
Danny bristled, his entire body shakin' with that amazing fuckin' rage that had somehow seemed to settle itself good and hard into him. He let his body shiver with it, hopin' that the shake would finally dislodge it from his system. But it didn't.
Not by a long shot.
The growing silence that had followed Daryl's words had been the final straw. The moment that he'd finally had enough. Enough of Lori and Carol's slightly disappointed stares as they'd surveyed not only his busted and bruised hands but Daryl's as well. Enough of that look of fatherly disappointment yet begrudging understanding emanating from Dale as he had shifted on his feet not far off, his gaze bouncing from one person to another. Enough of the look of concern and confusion and fear marring Glenn's brow as his eyes shifted over everyone before landing hard on him.
He'd sidestepped Glenn's hands faster than the poor good intentioned son of a bitch had been prepared for and he'd limped his ass as far away from that group of people, as quick as his busted-ass leg could take him. He'd limped right up to the roadway and stared down it. Stared down it for so long that the horizon blurred and he was left just wanting to run towards it until it fuckin' cleared again.
But instead all he did was pace. And fuckin' pace. Because he'd already run away once from this place, and all that had accomplished was bringing this horror down upon them. So he just paced. Because while he wasn't stupid enough to think this entire situation was his fault; he so naïve that he didn't realize his actions that day-his runnin' off with Hershel in search of 'an easy solution'-didn't have repercussions.
Danny's head tipped up as the wind howled wildly, scattering leaves and dust up around his ankles, tunneling a cool breeze up the pant leg of his well-worn jeans. He shivered as that breeze froze the sweat that had been sucked up into his shirt, and rolled his shoulders to try and stop the cold fabric from sticking to his skin. He closed his eyes and dragged in a deep breath before shifting his eyes back towards where he'd left the group.
"Well fuck," Danny muttered as he stared at the now empty plot of land, marveling at just how long he'd been up there at that road pacing. How long he'd gone uninterrupted by anyone. How long he'd managed a bit of alone time which before that moment had seemed like a goddamn pipe dream.
Slowly and without any real purpose Danny started making his way back towards camp. His eyes flitted from place to place, tryin' to see where everyone had put themselves now. Andrea and Shane were down near the shed, Rick was down at the barn, Dale was on a mission to try and talk to Daryl… Danny rubbed at his sore knuckles and shook his head. You had to love the old man for his fuckin' tenacity that was for damn sure.
With another long sigh he stopped right at the entrance of his tent, his eyes settled on the porch of the Greene's farmhouse. Settled right on that spot that Callie had pretty much claimed as her own for the majority of the day. A place now occupied by T-Dog, smoke trialing up from the lit cigarette in his hand and his backend resting along the banister. He was smiling down at Gracie swinging her legs happily as the burly black man nudged the rocking chair along with his foot. Danny smiled at the sight and scratched at his head as he opened up his tent and ducked inside.
His smile fell as his eyes instantly caught the shadow stretching across the floor towards him, and as his gaze lifted he felt his eyes widen and his mouth drop slightly in shock. There in the middle of his fuckin' clean as a whistle tent, settled on her butt, tapping her fingers along her knees was Callie.
He watched her head tip to the side slightly, and her lips curl slightly in a smile that he knew meant trouble. Reluctantly he finished his entrance into the tent letting the flap slip closed behind him. Callie's arms lifted wide out to her sides and her eyes shifted around her, hitting on his packed bags and rolled up sleeping bag before again settling on him.
"Somethin' you wanna share with the class, Mr. Murdock?" Callie said in an expectant tone as she quirked a fuckin' knowing brow at him.
"You look very pretty today," Danny said smiling widely and watching as Callie simply shifted her head to the other side and cocked her brow again. Danny sighed, realizing only now that Callie had grown quite accustomed in the past few months at seeing past his bullshit and deflective ill-placed humor. His eyes drifted around and he shrugged slightly in defeat as he stepped towards her. "What? I can't do a bit of cleaning? You're the one always harpin' about bein' ready for anything and we're on high alert here-"
"Oh please," Callie said rolling her eyes and shaking her head as her one hand fell towards his packed up backpack. "I've lived with you for months, and even when we were only settled in at places for a night you ended up makin' it look like you'd lived there for years with the amount of stuff you'd tossed around in the tent. You thrive on chaos…"
"Organized chaos, I always knew where everything was," Danny cut in lifting a finger to the air to make his point clear.
Callie glared at him hard and he rolled his eyes away from her. Silence grew heavy between them, a thick silence that had pushed the two of them back into bickering ways that he'd thought they'd left far behind them. Pushed them away from one another to the point that Danny really hadn't been expecting to find her here of all places. Danny rolled his eyes along the floor of his tent, his feet shifting idly before he finally just limped his ass over towards the cot that Miles had been using before he'd moved his ass over to keep eyes on Ben and Gracie in the Hummer. The silence lingered and Danny sat there lingering along with it, letting it ooze all over him and run a chill down his sweaty fuckin' spine as the wind outside beat along the nylon of his tent. He let it stifle that bit of happy that he'd actually got from the tiny bit of fun banter he just shared with the woman staring at his down turned head and he glared at his split knuckles.
"Do you feel better now?" Callie asked, her voice strong and sure, and Danny looked up instantly. Not because she'd asked, but because there wasn't an ounce of sarcasm in her words. Not a single drop, not even in her eyes as she held his slowly rising gaze.
"No," Danny replied quietly, clasping his hands together and letting them swing between his knees as he looked at her. Callie bobbed her head in acknowledgement and Danny looked back down to his bleeding knuckles.
"Doesn't usually," Callie muttered as her eyes closed briefly and her head shook with whatever else was running through her mind. "There's something I need to…." Callie took a breath and blinked a few times before putting both of her hands to her knees. She stared hard at him and Danny was powerless to look away. "There's something you need to understand. Something you need to get clear in your head, right here and right now. Randall didn't physically do anything to me-"
"He brought them-!" Danny started, his hands flying wide around him.
"No, you listen, I talk. That's the way this is gonna work this time," Callie said raising a hand to him to settle him back down. He shifted back into place on the cot and stared at her, waiting for her to yet again tell him that he was overreacting. "Randall didn't attack me. He didn't. And the man that did is dead. I ripped his throat out with the rusted fucking hook that he'd had me tied to, and I watched him bleed out."
Danny's hands fell limp to the cot on either side of him as the harsh tone of Callie's voice raked over already frazzled nerves. Again a chill slipped over his spine but he shook it off. He'd known the bastard was dead, figured as much when she'd shut the barn door so quickly, but to hear her say it. To hear the way she said it. To hear the venom and hatred in her voice, and to see that look in her eyes… a look that he'd never seen there before. A look that mirrored what he'd seen in his own eyes lately when he looked in the mirror…he shook himself and for once in his goddamn life he kept his mouth shut.
"I didn't want you to see what I'd done," Callie said after a beat, her voice lowering and her shaking hands lifting to shove back her loose hair from where it had fallen over her face. "That's why I shut the door. I didn't want you to…" she looked up at him and firmed her lips before shifting up onto her knees and angling herself towards him. "What happened with Randall wasn't your fault. You didn't make me take him along with us. Did I know something was off about him? Yeah," Callie shifted and sighed as she blinked away what he figured was a good dose of guilt on her own part. Again, Danny felt his stomach churn. "But he wasn't any worse than you," Callie lifted her gaze to him and he rolled his eyes. "He's a fast-talking son of a bitch who knows what it takes to survive. And he didn't think we had what it took." Callie rolled her eyes away and took in a deep breath as Danny rocked slightly in his ill-ease and anger. After another beat of silence her eyes moved back to him and he stared into those slightly angered depths. "Danny, you are allowed to have your hatred of that boy. You are not a bad person for it. And I'm going to tell you the same thing I told Rick about all of this. If this is the way it is for you, if it's life or death for that boy and you're set on death, then I respect that. I respect it and I will not say a word against it. But you can't put that on me," Callie said taking a breath and lifting a finger. "You are not allowed to use me as your Great Fuckin' Cause. You are not allowed to tell me how I'm supposed to be reacting to all of this. You are not allowed to tell me how to feel about this. You are not allowed that privilege, Danny. No one is. I am my own fuckin' master. And the way I deal might not be the best way, or the fuckin' healthiest, but it works for me. It keeps me going. It's keeping me from breaking down and letting this world get me. And that's really all that matters. I've chosen to be survivor, and all you've been doing is treating me like a victim. And it stops today."
Danny's body deflated at that moment. That's the only way he could really describe it. Those words sucked all of the air out of his indignant fuckin' lungs and caused his body to just cave in slowly. His chin slipped to his chest, his eyes shifting to his feet as they took the brunt of that new found weight, and his shoulders arched over his slightly trembling knees.
He hadn't thought of it that way. Had thought… hadn't fuckin' thought at all, apparently.
"I'm sorry," Danny said quietly, his voice hardly above a whisper as he lifted his eyes to the woman staring at him with such empathy that again his head dropped to his chest in shame.
"So am I," Callie said in return, shocking him inot looking up at her. "For pushing you away. For not sitting down like fuckin' adults and talking about this before…." Callie raised her hand to the tent at large and smiled slightly.
A long moment passed before Danny once again found his voice.
"You know if you ever need to be a victim….if you need to take a break from survivor mode… I'll be here," Danny said quietly settling his hands against his knees.
"I know. I know, and I love you for it," Callie said holding his gaze. Callie clenched her jaw tight and Danny did the same, both of them just staring at the other as the wind rustled along the fabric of the tent around them. She broke eye contact first, leaving him to stare at her as she settled back on her heels and finally let out a breath that allowed her body to relax out of its defensive position. He watched her as her eyes roamed around the tent and he felt his heart start to hammer slightly when she looked back at him. "What is this, Danny?" Callie asked finally, a bit of an exhausted edge back in her voice as she rubbed at the bridge of her nose. The fact that the woman hadn't slept at all last night, or even a bit today was finally starting to show and Danny felt a different sort of guilt settle in his stomach.
"It's ….It's…I don't know," Danny mumbled as he cupped his palm over his mouth and looked about his tent. His eyes shifted to where Callie sat staring at him and he closed his eyes. She knew what this was he didn't need to tell her. What he needed to do was explain why he didn't tell her.
"I've never known you to run away from something, Danny. In fact, you're usually the first idiot to run headlong into things."
"Right behind you there, sunshine," Danny said as he peeked at her and smiled. She bobbed her head in agreement and waved a dismissive hand at him. Danny slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out the small coin that Hershel had given him. He felt Callie's eyes on him as he started to spin it in his fingers but he didn't look up at her until he was good and fuckin' ready. "We're not ones to run away from things, but isn't that exactly what we've been doing? And I get it, after the CDC and everything … all I want to do is to keep running from what could be waitin' out there, but I can't. Not anymore."
"Yeah," Callie said quietly, her eyes slipping around the tent and then back to him. "I know."
"No," Danny said immediately recognizing Callie's tone. He shook his head and raised a hand while she lifted a slightly amused brow at him. "I can't ask you to go with me. I won't."
His response was met with nothing but silence, and he was left to simply stare into Callie's slowly softening expression. A small smile slipped over her lips as her head tilted to one side before she spoke in a low, but resoundingly clear tone.
"You don't have to. It's not really a topic of debate, Danny-boy. It's just… it's just the way things are."
Danny stared at her for a moment, taking in that simple little curl of her lip and the warmth reflecting in her eyes for all that it was. He took it and he wanted desperately to hold on to it and just run away with it. So that he'd have it with him forever. But he knew he didn't really deserve it, and it would be cruel to take it away from anyone else.
"You really think Rick's gonna just let you leave?" Danny asked in an off-hand manner.
"Rick has more important things that he needs to worry about now," Callie said quietly, and Danny caught onto the slight roll of her eyes as she did. She lifted her gaze to him and he raised a brow. Apparently Callie had finally started seeing that Rick was having a bit of trouble focusing completely on those other things lately.
"A'right," Danny said letting that conversation slide for now. He averted his gaze briefly and slipped Hershel's sobriety chip back into his pocket before looking back up at her and smirking slightly. "So what about good ol' Deputy Daryl? Think he's just gonna just let you go? Give you the patented Dixon 'Good Riddance' shove-off and that'll be all. C'mon, I know the man's always talkin' about pullin' up stakes. Huffin' and puffin' like the Big Bad Wolf come to blow down the fuckin' camp, but he's got a place here now. A place with you and Ben and Gracie, hell, with everyone. And as loathe to admitting it as he is, I think he's likin' it," Danny said as he shook his head and watched Callie smile in return, her head bobbing in agreement.
"I'm not one to ask permission from someone for the things I do. You know, bein' a fuckin' adult and all," Callie said with a flippant turn of her hand as she speared Danny with a long lingering annoyed look. "What's going on with me and Daryl, I don't want it to end. I don't. I'd be lying if I told you I wouldn't want him to come, but you're right he's got a place here and connections, ones that run just as deep as what he's got with me; with us. A fact that I don't think he even sees yet. But it's not just the connections or the people, he's got respect here, whether he sees it or not. Respect that he's earned. And I'd never even think to pull him away from that. I'd never ask him to just pull up stakes on something he deserves so much. I'd never think to make him choose between things. But maybe…" Callie said thoughtfully a small twitch of her brow causing Danny to perk up a bit. "He's got someone out there to find, too."
"That he does," Danny said nodding his head and watching Callie shift onto her backside. Her fingers began twiddling with the small compass attached to the holster at her hips. "There been some development with Merle that I don't know about?"
"I'll tell you later," Callie said quietly, her mind obviously still lingering on something else as she tapped her broken, dirty fingernail on the compass. "Let's just say Daryl's talk about pullin' up stakes, might not be just talk for much longer. Lord knows this whole shit storm with Randall's taking a toll on him as well," Callie peered up at Danny through her lashes and he frowned in return.
"You should talk to him," Danny mumbled as he shifted closer, wanting to reach out and shake some fuckin' sense into her.
"Yeah, I know," she replied tiredly, her hand once again rubbing at her forehead before raking the stray strands of her hair away from her face. Her eyes strayed down to his busted up knuckles and she firmed her lips tight.
"You need to talk to him."
"I know," Callie snapped, and then gave an apologetic frown. Her eyes closed and she sighed as she rubbed at the bridge of her nose. "He's next on my list. Just…not right now. Not until this is all settled, and we can both sit and breathe while we do it."
"Never known you to run away from things, Cal," Danny remarked, earning a sarcastic snarl from the woman on the ground before him.
"Bite me, Danny," Callie said lifting a stiff middle finger into his view as she shifted her eyes around to Danny's neatly packed bags. He watched her stare at his bags, and fiddle mindlessly with the slightly frayed edges of Rick's old holster at her hips. Watched her mind churning with something, and waited. Actually fuckin' waited for her to say her peace instead of steam rollin' in with his own thoughts on the way shit was fallin' lately. "If we're going do this," Callie said finally, her eyes slipping back to him and holding. "If we're really going do it, we're going do it right, Danny. And headin' out now, with winter coming and no real provisions for any kind of lengthy road-trip put together isn't how it's going happen. I'm with you, it's time to face whatever's waiting for us out there. But I'll be damned if I'm gonna let it kill us. Not when we've actually got things to live for now." She said the words with such conviction that Danny felt his shoulders rise and his head tilt up, as a feeling of actual fuckin' hope wedged itself back into his body. "We go. We do it right. And that means waiting."
He was silent for a moment as he worked to school his almost instantaneous need to argue. To push his point; to push that he couldn't stay anymore. But instead he let it roll off, let that urge fall to the wayside and clung to that hope she'd somehow shoved back into him.
"Yeah, okay," Danny said finally, his head bobbin' along his tired shoulders as he let his gaze roam around him. "But just so you know," Danny said with a single finger lifted in the air. "Every fuckin' day I'm gonna be workin' hard to make sure your ass stays behind. I've put you through too much, and used you for a fuckin' crutch for too long."
"Yeah, well, you're an idiot. You fucking need a crutch now, dumbass," Callie said waving off his statement and chuckling.
"Sunshine, I still got one good leg, and I will kick you with it if I have to."
"Bring it," Callie said as she laughed and caught his eye. For a moment they both just sat and smiled. Each of them lingering in the much needed banter for a bit, and leaving behind the three days of hushed and angered half-conversations that they'd shared far behind. Instead they started doing what they did best-what they always seemed to be able to help one another do no matter how dark the day-they moved on. "You know," Callie said after a moment, her fingers tapping along her knees now as she looked at him. "There aren't really many constants left in this world anymore. But you and me, we're one of them. So you're gonna have to kick pretty damn hard to keep me from goin' with you, buddy-boy. 'Cause the way I see it, it's you and me, Danny; to the bitter fuckin' end. "
Danny let out a stuttering sort of laugh, and smiled as Callie worked her way to her feet. She stood before him and held out her hand, a hand with a large red gash marring the once soft and pristine skin on her palm. He slipped his hand with its torn and broken skin at the knuckles into it and held tight as she helped pull him to his feet. Once there Danny marveled at the amount of weight that seemed to be suddenly lifted from his shoulders just by the fact that she was there with him. There was still a looming shadow over their group, a horrid decision to be made that would no doubt impact all of them more than anyone was really prepared to acknowledge at the moment, but there was the hope of something beyond.
Even if it was just for them.
To the bitter fuckin' end.
"We'll figure everything out later," Danny said quietly, giving her hand a squeeze and watching her shake her head slightly. Danny chuckled and shifted so that Callie's hand was settled into the crook of his arm. He shot her his best shit-eatin' grin, garnering a well deserved roll of her tired hazel eyes and then worked them both towards the tent flap. They exited out into the growing dusk and rolling breeze of the oncoming rain and both looked up at the same time.
"Gotta love well-placed ominous black clouds," Danny muttered, to which Callie answered with her elbow shoved hard against his ribcage. He shook his head and spared her a glance before they both started to survey the farm.
The place looked like a fuckin' ghost town now, as most people were still almost comically workin' to avoid Dale even though it looked as if his time had come to an end. Fuck, Danny half expected a goddamn tumbleweed to blow by about now. Beside him he felt Callie shift her weight a bit, her eyes angling towards the barn where Rick's lean silhouette could be seen just standing there staring at the doors to that barn. The sigh that left Callie's lips was almost pained as she lifted a hand to her forehead and rubbed at what Danny was sure had to be the migraine from hell by now.
"It's gonna be a long fuckin' night," Callie said quietly her eyes skipping up to him.
"Shit, honey, it's gonna be a long fuckin' winter," Danny said with a smile as he nudged her side with his elbow. "But you know what they say,' one day at a time', right?"
"Did you seriously just pull out some AA bullshit on me," Callie said raising a brow to him.
"Fuck you, Cal."
"C'mon, Danny-boy," Callie said dragging him towards the house. "Let's go inside where I can clean up those busted up knuckles a bit."
"Yeah, and where we can hide out for a bit" Danny said as his feet started slowly following the tug of her hand. His eyes however had shifted to where he could see Glenn, T-Dog, Shane, Jimmy and Hershel talking near the back end of the porch. "Do I even want to know what that's all about?"
"Nope," Callie said in that same utterly exhausted tone she'd used earlier. Shaking her head she sighed and again lifted a hand to push her windblown hair from her face. "I'll tell you later," Callie muttered, her eyes sliding away from the group of men now heading out into the trees and back down towards where Rick was standing.
Danny's gaze slipped to the RV, and up to the roof where the lone figure of Dale sat upon that busted up beach chair. The wind was blowing that fuckin' ridiculous umbrella to hell and back, and yet Dale sat there. Unaffected by the winds blowing against him, his head bowed and hands tented at his lips. If Danny hadn't known the man better, he'd have guessed he was praying.
It was a jarring sight. Watching that act of desperation from a man who was fighting a losing battle. And Danny suddenly felt very guilty for playing a part in putting that tenacious and good man into that position alone.
I wanna hide the truth; I wanna shelter you,
But with the beast inside; there's nowhere we can hide,
No matter what we breed; we still are made of greed,
This is my kingdom come; this is my kingdom come,
When you feel my heat; look into my eyes,
It's where my demons hide,
It's where my demons hide,
Don't get too close; it's dark inside,
It's where my demons hide,
It's where my demons hide
~Demons/ Imagine Dragons
AN:
And with that…Ladies and gentlemen, we have come to the end of what I like to call happy fun times (yeah, that was fuckin' happy fun times) I'd like to encourage you to drink up and get your asses ready for the ride…
Because next chapter… Even I'm fuckin' dreading it.
(If you have a song you'd like to suggest/have me check out and possibly use for a future chapter feel free to PM, or leave it in your review if you want, or inbox me on my Tumblr ( .com) . I love all the suggestions and really could use a bit of new listening material-or hell if you wanna gab about the current season or anything really hit me up I'm on that site far too much. )
Much love to you all.