New Meanings To Old Words: LOVE
Another chapter. Another step closer to closing this sucker out. I hope I haven't lost you all yet.
And to those that have stuck around this long. I LOVE YOU SOOOOOO MUCH.
Disclaimer: same as always, I own nothing but my lovely band of OC's, Callie her crew of misfits-those we've met, those we've lost and those still to come.
As always read, review and most of all ENJOY!
Tragedy
"Hey, Shane," Carl's voice rang out from somewhere near the back of the Jeep and had Shane spinning around with a sigh.
Running a hand through his hair he turned away from watching Lori talk with the short-haired woman they'd met on the highway a few days ago-Carol. His eyes skipped over the slouched form of the woman's husband Ed, whose lazy ass hadn't done a damn thing to help set up camp, just complained about what a bad fuckin' idea this all was the whole time.
Like he didn't fuckin' know that already. Shane shook his head and took a few steps towards back of his Jeep.
"Carl?" Shane called out, not seeing the boy immediately. A rush of sweat broke out along the back of his neck and his eyes swiveled around the area, his jaw clenched tight for just a moment. A single fuckin' second of horror before Carl's small frame broke from the other side of the Jeep where he'd been crouched down. "Jesus, man," Shane raked a hand through his hair and tugged just a bit as he glared at the boy. "Don't-" he caught himself and stepped towards the confused looking Carl, his hand reaching out and grabbing him hard around the shoulder and clenching slightly. "What you doin' back here?"
"Just trying to help unpack," Carl said in a quiet, matter-of-fact tone, his blue eyes skipping around at the assorted group milling around the clearing at the Quarry. "We're staying here right?"
"Yeah," Shane said giving the boy a quick back and forth shake before patting his shoulder. "Yeah, man, for now."
"Think it's safe?" Carl asked. Again his tone was quiet, thoughtful, a bit more thoughtful than Shane expected from a twelve-year-old. But then again this was Rick's son, so…..Again Shane's hand reached out and held tight to the boy, instantly pulling him close and tucking him under his arm as a flood of raw red emotions that Shane just couldn't fuckin' think to deal with began to rush into his head. He held Carl close and nodded his head a few times before letting his hand slip up to ruffle the kid's hair.
"I'll make it safe," Shane said roughly his eyes catching on Carl's and holding. "I'm gonna keep you and your mom safe. No matter what, buddy. You got my word on that."
"I know," Carl said nodding his head and staring hard up into Shane's eyes. "You will. I know. But I want to help."
"You can help by keepin' close to your mom and not wanderin' off," Shane muttered as he let Carl slip out of his hold and over to whatever he'd been crouched down next to. "What you doin' over here?"
"I found this in the back of the Jeep," Carl pulled at the black bag and dragged it towards them a bit. "Thought you'd forgot some of your clothes or somethin', but then…."
"Careful," Shane said slipping forward and kneeling down. He put a hand to the bag and glanced at the obviously rummaged through items.
"That's your uniform, right?" Carl asked in a tone of what Shane could only call reverence. It was a tone he wasn't used to getting from people with regards to his job. Not him. Never him. Rick. Rick had been used to that tone, wore that fuckin' uniform with a sense of duty and pride Shane had just never been able to muster. Wore it for his boy. Shane's mouth turned down in a snarling frown and he looked away sharply, only to snap his attention back to Carl as the boy began to once again rummage through the bag.
"I said careful, Carl," Shane snapped, his hands reaching out as he grabbed the bag and pulled it towards him. "There's …" Shane's eyes skipped around him and he grimaced. "I've got my ammo and second sidearm stashed in there, okay. Just-"
"Why'd you bring it?" Carl asked, his question again catching Shane off guard. Shane blinked at him stupidly for a moment and Carl stood up, his eyes boring into him in a way that reminded him so much of Rick he felt his heart constrict at the sight of it. "Your uniform? Why'd you bring it? You gonna wear it?"
"No," Shane said immediately then shook his head as he again raked a hand through his hair. The heat of the overhead sun was causing a thin sheen of sweat to burst along his scalp and he scratched at it hopin' for some fuckin' relief. "No, Carl. I don't think I'm gonna wear it," Shane said looking up at the boy from his crouched down position. "Just-I don't know, man. I just grabbed it."
"Is your badge in there?" Carl asked, his voice sounding higher in pitch, almost excited. "I was looking for it, but-"
"Ain't in there," Shane said cutting him off. "Had it on my belt at the highway, just in case…. Must have fallen off in the woods or somethin'," Shane's gaze skipped around along the ground for a moment before he was skippin' his eyes back up to Carl. He squinted through the sunlight and watched that small amount of joy and excitement that had taken root in the boy fade back into nothing. The dark shadows that had clouded around Carl's eyes since he'd learned his daddy's fate once again settled in and Shane let out a long sigh.
"I was tryin' to find dad's," Carl said in almost a whisper, his eyes downcast just staring at the bag where Shane's uniform lay in rumpled mess. "I was lookin' for it when you came, and said we had to go," Carl blinked a few times, his mouth firming the way his mom's did when she was desperate to keep herself in check. Shane's gaze shifted around him for a minute lookin' for the woman in question before lifting back Carl. "Couldn't find it."
"It's at the station-house," Shane said quietly, catching and holding Carl's gaze when it met his. "I put it at his desk. So it'd be there when-" Shane snarled and shoved a hand into his hair. "C'mere, buddy," Shane said after a minute, his hand reaching out and practically dragging Carl to him as he stood up.
He held Carl tight, letting the boy bury his face deep into his midsection. Shane's eyes once again surveyed the area, one hand pressing Carl's face into him while the other clenched and unclenched in the fabric of his shirt.
"It's gonna be a'right, Carl," Shane said stiffly. "I'm gonna make it a'right. For you and your mom, okay?" Shane felt Carl nod into his midsection as his little arms lifted and wrapped around his hips. Dragging in a deep breath Shane blinked away the wetness that had settled along his lashes and nodded his head roughly. Needing that strong physical affirmation to help push his own worries away. "A'right," Shane said shifting his hands to Carl's shoulders and pulling him away slightly. Carl stared up at him, glimmering trails of fresh tears staining his pale cheeks. Shane put a hand to the side of Carl's face and gave him a firm pat before crouching down to put himself at eye level with the kid. He stared for a moment, watching as Carl worked to rub away the remains of his tears and then smiled. "I tell you what," Shane said shifting and digging his hands into his bag. He pulled out his old black ball cap, the word 'POLICE' in bright white letters emblazoned along the front. "How 'bout I give you this to wear for a while?"
Shane punched a fist into the top of the hat and worked the brim a bit before stuffing it onto Carl's head. The hat fell over the kid's face and both of them were chuckling as Carl reached up to try and fix it.
"You got a big head," Carl said shifting the hat around and then off.
"Hey," Shane said snapping the back of his hand out and hitting Carl lightly in the chest. "Watch it." Carl stood there smiling slightly, his eyes glued to the white lettering and Shane waited, knowing there was something brewing in that boy's head.
"You should wear it," Carl said handing the hat back to him with a firm set to his mouth. There was a hardness in Carl's eyes as he stared up at Shane. A look of such seriousness and pride that Shane felt his shoulders lifting and his back straightening. Another small part of Rick glimmering out through the slightly wet blue eyes staring up at him. Carl shook the hat just a bit and Shane lifted his fingers to it as the boy continued. "People might need to see it. Might feel safer, you know. Knowing you're lookin' out for all of us."
Shane's fingers slipped over the hat, tentatively taking it back from Carl's outstretched hand. He held it in both hands and just stared at it for a moment as Carl stared up at him, just waiting. Waiting for Shane to put the fuckin' thing on his head. An act so easy that Shane really didn't understand his own hesitation in doing it. Dragging in a deep breath Shane nodded his head and slammed his fist into the hat twice before shoving it up on top of his already overheated head. The brim instantly shielded his gaze from the overhead sun and he smiled down at Carl watching the boy nod his head and smile back.
"A'right," Shane said putting both hands to his hips and letting his eyes roam around them again. Instantly he caught Lori's gaze, a small smile gracing her lips as she pushed her slightly curling bangs away from her face. He smiled back, and put a hand to the top of his hat scratching idly at the fabric covering his hair. She smiled more and he rolled his eyes away and back to Carl. "Go on," Shane said slapping his hand down on Carl's shoulder. "Go help your mom. I'll be over in a minute."
Carl dashed off making a bee-line for his mom, dust kickin' up behind him as he went. Shane stared at them both, Lori and Carl, his hands clenching along his hips as he shifted his weight idly from foot to foot. His right hand slipped up to scratch idly at the back of his neck, feeling the sweat already gathering along his hairline at the back. He slipped his eye around the collected group again, this time feeling a few people's eyes on him. He nodded back at the few that gave him a tentative smile as they worked to set up their tents. Something washed over him in that moment, something he couldn't quite place. A feeling of being needed in a way he'd never really felt before-not even when he wore that uniform day in and day out. His eyes again landed on Lori, her frame crouched down before Carl, fingers pushing away imaginary hair from the boy's face as she smiled at him sadly. He felt desired, needed, necessary…fuckin' important. Not only to that woman and her boy, but to the people that they'd gathered around them.
Shane's eyes shifted down to the open duffle bag at his feet, his uniform tossed around and wrinkled inside. He crouched down slowly, his hands rubbing along the fabric of his pants workin' to rid themselves of the slight clamminess that had broken out along his palms. He worked the back of one hand over his mouth as he stared down at his uniform shirt, that spot just above the left pocket where his badge should have been. His hand slipped away from his mouth and fingers extended slowly out towards his shirt. Tentatively he brushed off the dirt that had landed on that spot when Carl had dashed off only moments ago. His thumb brushed along that fabric a few more times and he swore he could feel the outline of that fuckin' badge as if it were there instead of lost in the woods.
Shane's thumb worked over the raised letters and numbers on Rick's badge. Back and forth, back and forth. Over and over again, his mind stuck in the blazing sun of months gone by while his body chilled in the slow coming cold of the present. His thumb continued to move back and forth as he stared at it.
His mind slipped to last night, Callie's eyes boring holes into him when she handed him the fuckin' thing.
Prove me wrong.
What the fuck did that mean? The fuck was he supposed to prove? To her? He didn't have a damn thing to prove to anyone. He -
Shane's mouth twitched and he shook his head glaring just a bit at the ground around him. His eyes shifted up slightly, feelin' the heat of a stare on his shoulders.
Carl stopped on a dime, his eyes instantly hitting Shane's and holding. The look on that boy's face was so far from what it had been those months ago up at the Quarry that it sent a fuckin' ripple of distaste through Shane. A ripple that worked all the way up from this toes and landed hard at the back of his throat. He worked to swallow it down as Carl started off again.
"Hey, Carl. Man , hold up," Shane called following the boy. He shoved the badge into his front pocket, Carl's eyes following his motions intently as he stood there waiting for Shane to speak again. "You know you ain't supposed to be out here," Shane said, his voice low as he dipped his head to catch Carl's rolling eye.
"I was lookin' for dad," Carl said quietly, his eyes shooting off over Shane's shoulders. "Glenn said he was out with Callie." Carl's finger pointed and Shane's eyes followed, landing immediately on Rick settled beside Callie on the back tailgate of the Hummer. Shane's eyes stayed on those two figures a moment longer before he was turning back to where Carl was takin' steps to head up there.
"Hold up," Shane said reaching out a hand to the kid's shoulder. He felt Carl tense up and he shook his head. Carl's eyes lifted to him and Shane took a step back, his hands falling to his hips as he regarded the boy. Rick's fuckin' hat shadowed the boy's face, but those eyes-Rick's fuckin' eyes-stared out of that darkness up at him. "Look Carl," Shane began again, his hand slipping behind him to where he still had the gun he'd found out in the woods. The gun he hadn't been able to give to the boy last night, because his momma had come out in a storm of anger and swept him away too fuckin' quick. His fingers brushed over the butt of the gun, his mind still pullin' against the idea of givin' it to him. His mind yet again slipping back months ago when he didn't even want the boy to touch a bullet. Suckin' in a deep breath Shane pulled the gun out and thrust it out towards Carl. "Take this."
"Where did you-?"
"I found it out there when we did our sweep," Shane said shoving the gun towards the boy again and stepping closer.
"So you knew…." Carl's eyes shone with unshed tears as he stared hard up at Shane. Anger and confusion warring on the boy's face as he took a step back. "You let me go on about all that last night, and you knew?"
"I thought it was Ben," Shane said on a sigh, his hand still holding the gun out to Carl. He bounced his hand twice getting Carl's attention back on it. "C'mon. Take it."
"I don't want it," Carl said stepping back, his head shaking roughly almost dislodging Rick's fuckin' hat.
"Carl-"
"No," Carl said in a hard tone as he shoved Shane's hand away. "I don't want it."
"I want to help."
Shane shook his head against the sound of Carl's words from months ago, and he stared hard at the boy. Frail lookin' now, even more than when they'd first arrived at that Quarry. A shadow of what he'd been, and what Shane had been plannin' on teachin' him to be. Goin' so fast from 'I want to help' to 'I don't want it', settled hard in the pit of Shane's stomach. Guilt and some slight disgust for how he'd failed that boy causin' his head to spin and his hand to thrust the gun out again.
"You gotta be able to protect yourself, man," Shane started, his feet advancing slightly towards the now slowly backing away Carl.
"No," Carl said raising his hands and staring at the gun and then Shane. "I can't. I don't want it." Carl stumbled back two steps before turning and sprinting off towards the barn in the distance.
Shane stared after the kid, his hand clenched tightly around the gun still extended out to the world. Shane's eyes shifted over his shoulder for a second before he growled low in his throat and shoved the gun into place at the small of his back. He licked his lips and smacked his now free hand up onto the back of his head, furiously rubbing the spot where he could feel Callie's eyes on him. He rubbed and shook himself, his eyes skipping to where Carl's figure had run off to. His feet began to walk then, off towards that beat up old windmill in the distance.
Lori's eyes shifted over her shoulder and back towards the house, her skin crawling with the imaginary sense that someone was watching her. Not just someone. Rick. She stared back at the house, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that he wasn't there, that he was still inside speaking with Hershel about supplies that he should be on the lookout for-things that they'd need for Ben…for her. Adding weight upon weight to his shoulders as he worked to be everything for everyone.
She knew he was still in there, but still she could feel his eyes on her shoulders.
Her guilt followed her like a shadow, bending and twisting around her with every move she made. As she stared back at the house, it stretched along the length of ground she'd just walked. Back inside those doors to where her husband stood hunched over the desk, his head simply nodding along to the words of others as they heaped more and more upon him.
Lori's head swiveled back away from the house, back towards her destination. Her shadow shifted again, the fickle thing that it was, this time stretching out before her, a thin slice of black along the yellowing grass. She could see him in the distance, his strong figure a dark mass against the cloud-covered backdrop at the horizon.
Lori's hands clenched and unclenched as she walked and she shook them in an effort to dispel her own misplaced unease. She raked a hand through her hair as she watched him, his figure becoming more and more discernible the closer she got. In her mind's eye she saw him, standing atop the edge of the Quarry staring down at the roadway hands at his hips. His shoulders had been so stiff then, his own guilt pressing down on him. But he'd fought it. Fought it with ever fiber of his being so that he could be the man they needed. A man they all depended on to keep them safe.
A man she'd depended on.
Maybe too much.
Lori came to a stop on the other side of the green Tucson and watched Shane stare off into the distance. Planks of wood were scattered around the ground at his feet, the bedraggled windmill he'd come up to fix clawing at the clouds above.
'He's up there, tiltin' at fuckin' windmills.'
Danny's off-hand remark about Shane's whereabouts when she'd asked him moments ago came rushing back to her. Her lips firmed and she shifted her eyes around her once again taking it all in-all the distance, all the things that just shouldn't have happened, all the things that did-before letting her gaze once again land on Shane. He was out of breath; she could tell by the way his shoulders rose and fell heavily as he planted his hands at his hips and dipped his chin to his chest. Her eyes surveyed the area, her hand shielding her eyes as she looked for some sign of a helping hand.
Lori sighed and shook her head at herself. There wouldn't be any helping hand coming. There was Just Shane, up here alone, just as he had been at the Quarry in the beginning. Staring off into the distance, trying to build himself back up after being torn down to nothing. Trying to claw away at the sky and find the sun.
Tilting at windmills….
Lori's lips firmed and she shook her head, her hands dropping to her sides as her feet ate up the rest of the distance between them. She walked past the front bumper of the car, and came to stop just staring at him as he turned to face her.
Shane's eyes widened, and then shifted around them searching. His eyes fell on her hard and she lifted a hand to shove away the strands of her hair that flew into her face. She clenched her hand tight and her eyes skipped away from him for a moment towards the car.
"Lori?" Shane's voice was a mix of confusion and exhaustion and it had her sighing as she looked back to him. "What-"
"I'm sorry," Lori said in a firm matter-of-fact tone.
"What?" Shane replied, his face scrunching up with his confusion as he stared at her. Anger was ebbing its way into his features, she could see it. Knew him too well not to see. She stepped closer to him.
"I don't know what to do," Lori said her hand falling from her head and reaching out to him. "I don't know how to fix this. I don't know how."
"Ain't nothin' you need to fix," Shane said shaking his head at her and frowning. "Ain't nothing you need to do—"
"There is," Lori said stepping close again and holding his gaze. "This," her hand shot out around them at the emptiness surrounding him, the distance between him and the house in the distance. "This is my fault, Shane."
"No-"
"I never meant for this to happen," Lori said quietly. They were an arm's length from each other now, his eyes skipping over hers, working to read her thoughts. Thoughts she didn't even have a full grasp on. "You need to know that." She pointed a finger at him and then turned from him, her hand rising to stop him as his mouth opened to respond. "You got us out of Atlanta. You saved us. Me and Carl," Lori's said, hating the fact that her voice cracked, but pushing past it. Pushing past the feel of his fingers reaching out and falling, the bare hint of a touch along the fabric of her shirt. She shook her head and stared at the windmill he'd been working to fix alone. "You got us out, got us to Atlanta. God," Lori raked a hand through her hair again and blinked as the tears welled, her mind once again flying back in time. This time to the highway where her whole world burned to the ground in the distance. "Do you remember that? The flames, the sounds…" her head shook and she looked at him.
Shane stared at her, his eyes wide and unblinking as they worked over her face. He was lost. Trying to find where she was going, trying to find purchase along the swirling ocean of guilt and horror that was the landscape of their lives now. Trying and failing. Failing because of her.
"I remember sitting in your car," Lori began again, her hand pressing into her chest at the thought of her lost family. Her mother. Her hope. "I remember sitting there thinking, 'It's going to be okay. He's going to make it okay'," she looked back to him. "Because that's what you did. You made things okay. You always did. You were always the one," she smiled at him. "Playing friend, marriage councilor, confidant, and so much more. God, Shane," She firmed her lips and watched him bristle slightly. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I never thanked you for any of it. Not before. Not after," she reached out to him and let her hand fall just as his had only moments ago.
"You don't gotta thank me for that, Lori," Shane said in a low tone, his head dipping close to her as he sought her gaze. He settled in closer to her, and reached up, a single finger hooking away a strand of her hair. "Everything I did-You don't have to thank me." His hand fell, and she wiped at her eyes, a trembling smile on her lips. Her hand fell as she looked away and Shane's gaze followed its path as it rested on her stomach. Her fingers clenched, and Shane wasn't even sure she knew where that hand was or that she was even talking to him anymore. Her mind was spinning, he could tell. He recognized the firming of her lips, the darting of her eyes. He knew her. Knew her better than she liked to think he did.
"I screwed it all up," Lori said more to herself this time than the man next to her. Her eyes skipped along the clouds overhead and she let out a low breath. "Danny says this baby is a miracle, but… well, that's... I wish I could feel that way." She looked over to him, his eyes instantly shifting up from her hand to her face. "I don't even know who the father is," she held his gaze then. "I don't, and I can't imagine how hard that is on you."
Shane's jaw clenched and she watched his eyes well up with unshed tears. She watched and she felt the first stinging drop of her own as they traced a path down her cheeks. His lips firmed, and he looked away for a moment, before catching her gaze with such a powerful stare that she had to turn away.
"I know things got….confused between us," Lori said, her eyes skipping along the fields and then back to the strangely silent man. He stared at her with eyes that seemed to shine in the bare light overhead and she found herself breaking just a bit more inside. She let out a ragged sigh and raked a hand through her hair, tangling her fingers into the strands and pulling just slightly. Aggravation, fear and guilt settling deep into the pit of her stomach, churning it until the bile rose just slightly up her throat.
"Lori, look," Shane started, his hand reaching out towards her then falling like a lead weight, his fingers twitching slightly as if he wanted to reach back up to her. And damn her, part of her wanted him to. That part of her that came so quickly to depend on him for things, that had depended on him long before the world fell to shit around them. That part of her that had taken comfort in him and allowed herself to feel again when all she'd wanted to do was sit and cry about all the people she'd lost. All the people she'd never be able to hold again. She watched his fingers twitch and let out a long slow breath before turning to face him.
"I'm so sorry," Lori said quietly, her voice cracking just a bit. "Whatever happened….between us. Whatever that was, whatever we thought it was…or could be...," Lori trailed off, her mind spinning in so many directions she couldn't quite get out the right words. If there were any 'right words' anymore to be said between them. "Whatever it was…and it wasn't just you," she said, her eyes hitting his and watching them widen just a fraction. Just a bit. She watched him freeze and she should have known better, should have stopped there, but this…this was probably going to be her last chance to fix it. And she had to fix it. Before he left them. Before he left her. "Please, believe me. I'm so sorry."
Shane stared at Lori for a long time after those words left her mouth. Watched her hand fall from her hair, and the wind catch those strands tossing them around her head in a whirlwind that matched the way his mind felt. She turned her back on him and started off and he took a single step after her, then stopped. He looked down at his feet and glared. Glared out his hatred of all the shit that had happened, all the good things that had been taken off his plate before he'd even really had a chance to smell the fuckin' meal.
"They're gonna be headin' out soon," Lori's voice rang out. Shane's eyes snapped up to hers and he stared at her in confusion, one startling minute of confusion before his eyes were sliding out over the fields back towards the house. "Thought you'd want to know. Maybe head back in," Lori shrugged and shook her head.
Shane's head shook and he again looked to the ground, then to his car, his mouth snarling out his disgust. Disgust in everything.
"Don't, Shane," Lori said, her voice again snapping his attention away from the ground that seemed to be openin' up around him. He stared at her and watched her firm her lips and shake her head. "Just…I can't fix it if you're not here. So don't…"
She turned then, her hair whippin' out behind her and her arms set across her chest. He watched her walk away, his gaze slipping out towards the house again before sliding back towards that fuckin' windmill and the boards scattered at his feet.
"Ooooo-weeeee, lookit here, little brother. We are saved. The fuckin' Po-lice are here. Praise be."
Shane turned and glared at the man behind him. The chucklin' redneck bastard stood not two feet away, suckin' at his teeth with his tongue as he stared at him in open disrespect. Shane's eyes skipped over to the always present 'little brother' shadow standing with is head bowed over his thumb as he chewed at the nail and sent a mirroring glare at him.
Merle and Daryl Dixon. God's last fuckin' test to him in these the end of fuckin' days.
Shane wasn't ashamed to say it, didn't fuckin' back away from feelin' it, and would never -fuckin' ever -feel differently about it. He hated the bastards. Hated them the very moment Glenn had brought them up to the Quarry. The very moment his eyes had landed on the dirty, foul-mouthed, drugged out little shits.
But here they were. Because it was the 'right thing to do'. Shane shook his head. Fuckin' Lori.
Because 'They'll be helpful. Look they can hunt.' Fuckin' Glenn. Shane's eyes again rolled and he settled his hands to his hips as he watched Merle saunter his ass toward him.
Merle's foot kicked out sending a cloud of dirt over Shane's bags settled near his Jeep, his eyes skipping over the uniform still settled inside his duffel. A mocking grin spread out over the man's face and he sneered over at Shane as he came to a stop.
"You really think that fuckin' uniform, or that dumbass hat is gonna do a lick-a good now, Officer?" Merle said, that last word rolling off his tongue with a palpable hatred. "It ain't," Merle said chucklin' as he stepped closer. "Not a damn thing."
"Shut up, Dixon," Shane spat back his head shakin' as he watched the man suck in suck in a wet breath and spit it down at Shane's feet.
"You know what I think?" Merle said as he took another step towards him.
"No, Merle, why don't you tell me what you think?" Shane said back, his head shifting to the side as he rolled his shoulders, fighting the urge to just punch the bastard.
"I think you like being the big man in charge," Merle said in raspy chuckle, his hand lifting so that he could flick the brim of Shane's ball cap. "Think you like havin' everyone standin' in line to suck your dick, thinkin' it's gonna keep 'em safe from the big bad boogeyman. Shit…." Merle laughed then and shot his eyes over to where his brother Daryl was slowly advancing towards them. Daryl's eyes shifted between Shane and his brother a few times before skipping off towards the rest of camp. "I think you know, your little hat ain't gonna do a damn thing too. Think you gonna get all these nice fuckin' people killed cause you wanna play the big fuckin' lawman hero."
Shane's head began to shake and his blood began to simmer, that sizzling rush sounding between his ears clouding his brain as he let his gaze slip around their camp. His eyes met Glenn's, lookin' like a deer in the headlights, and then Lori's as she watched from by the tent she shared with Carl. He raised his hand, which at some point had clenched into a fist and shook it at Merle before slapping it to the back of his head. Not far off in his periphery he watched little brother Daryl take a step towards them and then rock back as Shane rubbed at the back of his head. Shane let his head bob in time with the agitation rolling through him and he smiled up at Merle as he closed the distance between them.
"You know what I think, Dixon," Shane spat into Merle's sneering fuckin' face. "I think you're only here because I fuckin' let you be here. You and that dumbfuck brother of yours are only here, takin' advantage of this 'piss poor example of a fuckin' camp' because I let you."
"That so," Merle said in a low rollin' tone, his eyes skipping out around them.
"Yeah, that's so," Shane said back as he stepped that one more step closer so that his face was just an inch away from the other man's. "That's fuckin' so. You're only here because I let you be here. And I'm gonna tell you right now," Shane sneered up at Merle as his head slipped away chin angling up as he stared down his nose at him. "You and that fuck up of a brother of yours do anything to disrupt this place, do anything to threaten these people… the people I care about. I will end you."
"Lookit you," Merle said with a smile that did nothing but shake up that ire already building in Shane.
"Yeah, lookit me," Shane said shifting forward again. "Lookit me real fuckin' good, Merle. I don't like you. I don't want you here. I could give two-shits whether you can hunt or whatever the fuck you spoon fed Glenn on that highway. I don't give a fuck about you and whether you live or die. But you're here and you'll do what I say, how I say it and you'll fuckin' stay in line."
"Thought all you cops was supposed to fuckin' protect and serve the people," Daryl's voice rolled out, his sneering gaze shifting between Shane and the camp. "Not threaten."
"I ain't the Officer friendly type," Shane said back, his finger slipping out to poke hard into Merle's chest. "Y'all just remember that."
"You wanna take Dixon as your wingman?" Shane's voice echoed in his own head as he stared up at Rick standing on the porch. Rick stared down at him with such contempt that he swore he could fuckin' feel it riding along the wind blowing past. Felt it fuckin' slap him in the face as Rick's head bobbed once in affirmation. "Fine by me."
"Good," Rick snapped back, his head tilting slightly to the side as he shifted his eyes around them and then back.
The fine misting rain that had started to fall only a few minutes ago was rolling at path down the bridge of Shane's nose as he stared up at his best friend. A man he loved and cared about more than he'd ever really thought he could. A man he'd used to respect for being all the shit that Shane had never thought himself capable of being.
Wasn't until shit hit the fan and the world turned upside down that Shane realized he didn't need to be that man. Wasn't until he let himself go, let himself really fuckin' go, that he realized Rick Grimes wasn't who anyone should want to be. Especially not here. Not now.
Thoughts of Carl storming off towards the barn entered into Shane's mind then, his eyes shifting off that way as he fingered the gun still settled at the small of his back.
"We're gonna hold up a few, wait for Andrea, Miles and T to get back," Rick said, his eyes slipping up to the sky while Shane's gaze slid back to him. "See if this passes."
"This shit needs done today," Shane said snidely watching in his periphery as Daryl's figure sauntered across the field and towards the house.
"I've got it under control," Rick said simply, his voice holding an edge that was just so fuckin' familiar these days. An edge that seemed to be reserved for him and only him.
"Yeah," Shane said shifting his attention back towards the barn. "Got everything under fuckin' control, huh, Rick?"
"You got an issue you need to discuss," Rick said, his jaw clenched so tight Shane didn't even see his mouth move with the words, just saw the baring of his teeth.
"Yeah, man," Shane said shifting closer. "I got an issue. This," Shane slipped good ol' Merle Dixon's fuckin' handgun out from where it'd been resting at the small of his back. He slipped it out and slammed it up on the porch rail and he watched Rick's nostrils flare. Watched his supposed best friend, his fuckin' brother, back up a step and put his hand to the butt of his gun at his hip. Shane chuckled, because he couldn't hold it back- didn't fuckin' want to. He chuckled and he shook his head as Rick shifted his gaze between him and the gun.
"What-?"
"This is the gun your boy was carryin'," Shane said in a low tone, his hand slipping off of the gun and down to his side. "The gun he stole off Daryl. The gun he went out into the woods with on his own. The gun he dropped when he couldn't pull the fuckin' trigger on a Walker. You want me to keep goin' with my fuckin' issues, Rick?"
Rick was quiet, his eyes still on the gun as Shane stared up at him. Shane sucked in a wet breath through his nose and watched as Rick wrestled with something. Hell the man wrestled with everything these fuckin' days. Shane licked his lips and scratched a hand at the back of his head. He watched Rick continue to stare at that gun and hated that lost look he saw in the man's eyes. Hated it for what it did to him; what it did to the people around them; and what it did to Rick himself. Shane leaned towards Rick at the porch rail just slightly, hoping he would catch the other man's gaze. But he didn't. Rick just kept on starin' at that gun and Shane just shook his head.
"This shit ain't gotta be so hard, man," Shane said in a low tone, his voice apparently finally catching the other man's attention. Rick's gaze snapped up to him and Shane watched the muscle in his stubble-covered jaw tick slightly.
"Where's Carl?" Rick asked in a coarse voice.
"He's at the barn," Shane said back, his head tipping to the side slightly. "I can-"
"I've got it," Rick said snatching the gun up from the railing just as Daryl turned the corner of the porch. Shane watched the redneck come to a stop, his eyes catching on them as Rick tucked the gun away. "I've got it. You just …. Find something else to do, okay? Think you can do that?"
Shane glared up at Rick, and Rick glared right back. A fire ignited in the air between them, crackling and burning the air so that it wasn't just hard to breathe it was downright dangerous.
"Yo, Rick," Daryl's voice called out and had Shane blinking away from the starin' match. Shane shook his head and let his gaze slip over to where Daryl was just starin' at them. Watching from his position a few feet away, his hand settled on that fuckin' crossbow of his like he was ready to pull it. Shane let out a scoffing laugh as Daryl glared at him, and then ran a hand down his rain spattered face.
"One minute," Rick said over his shoulder to Daryl and Shane continued to shake his head and chuckle. "You done? You good?"
"Yeah, man," Shane said back as he took a single step away from the porch. "I'm done. I'm fuckin' done. I'm gonna go…. do somethin'."
Shane's hands smacked hard off of the railing and then he backed up. He turned his back on Rick and Daryl and tossed his hands in the air. He walked aimlessly for a moment or two. Walked until he was sure Rick couldn't see him anymore. He stopped in the middle of the drive, and just stood there starin' out around him. Stood there lettin' the rain hit him. The longer he stood the more that mist-like rain felt like needles, jabbin' into him.
That prickling sensation crawled all over his skin as he surveyed the grounds. Images slipped in and out of his mind. Conversations of days gone by. Feelings reciprocated and not filtered in and out causin' his chest to constrict to an almost painful degree. And it wasn't until his eyes landed on the shed where that fuck Randall was being held that his mind just cleared. For the first time in a long time.
It was all just fuckin' clear.
The air in the shed was a stale mixture of sweat and blood and wet wood as the light rain pelted the outer walls. Callie blinked past the strange almost dizzying sensation that slipped over her, past horrors trying to claw away at the wall she'd just been able to rebuild around them. She blinked past it and slid her feet along the dirt and straw strewn floorboards, watching as Randall's eyes widened just a bit more.
The fingers of her right hand clenched idly around the butt of her gun. It was only five steps from the slightly ajar door to where Randall was sitting against the wall, but it felt longer. Felt like it took longer for her to get there.
Randall's eyes were wide, his mouth tight between his teeth as his jaw clenched and he began to scoot himself further away. Pressing his back tight to the wall as if he'd maybe be able to squeeze between the slats of the wall to get away from her.
There was a sickening sense of satisfaction in the way he looked at her. The fear she saw there. In that moment she understood more than ever Danny's need to plant his fist into the boy's jaw. That urge. That pull. For what he'd done. What he'd ushered onto them…..Not only them. But those girls.
Lisa.
Allie.
Callie's fingers clenched tight, the digging of that gun into the flesh of her palm running up and down her arm as she stared down at Randall. She stared and she settled her nerves for what needed to be done.
Because she was done running from things. Done letting the horrors of this world repeat in a never ending cycle.
"I'm not here to kill you," Callie said in a low voice. A voice she was proud to say sounded as strong as she'd hoped it would. "I want to," she said and his eyes snapped away from where they'd landed on her gun as she slowly lifted it up for him to see. His eyes followed her gun intently, all the way down to the surface of the table where she placed it. She lifted her hand away from her gun, palm up, and she was completely unable to quell the smile sliding onto her face as she watched him let out a ragged breath into the disgusting rag in his mouth. "But I'm not going to."
Randall's entire body sagged against the wall he'd been desperately trying to push himself through. Callie slid her fingers along the table away from her gun and closed her eyes for a moment, steadying her mind and body for what she wanted to do here. No, not what she wanted. What she needed to do.
Needed to do for Rick. For everyone that planned to stay at this farm.
Callie crouched down slowly, her eyes on his as he watched her. She could see the muscle in his jaw ticking away as he chewed along the rag in his mouth. They held one another's gaze for a long moment, both of them lost in the memories of the day all those months ago when she and Danny had first met him. When Callie had saved his sorry ass, and Danny had plead for her to agree to bring him along. That first long day where the boy pulled out every fucking sob story he could think of to keep himself alive. That long night where Callie had first seen that flicker of 'something' behind the boy's stare as he talked about what had happened to his father.
That something that had been bred into him over the years. Something that made him able to read people and situations almost as good as she could. Something that helped him to mold those situations and people to help him do what he wanted to do more than anything.
Survive.
She knew that look well. She'd seen it enough in her career before this, and more than enough at the bar. Seen it in a few of the people she surrounded herself with now. Hell, it was something she'd started only recently to see in herself.
Callie tapped her fingers along her knee and smiled tightly at Randall. Watching as he continued to move just slightly, his wrists dragging behind him slower now than they had been when she first walked in.
"You're not going to get free," Callie said quietly, smiling as his motions stopped almost immediately. She lifted her right hand and pulled the sleeve of her jacket down just a bit showing the deeper of her scars to him. "Trust me. You're just gonna end up tearing your wrists to shit," Callie let her hand fall back down to dangle between her knees. "Then what, Randall? You'll be bloody and sore and fighting off infection all on your lonesome. Be a shame to go out like that. Especially after all this." Callie sent her hand out in an arc around her. She tilted her head to the side and waited. After another beat he stopped his fidgeting and his hands settled behind his back, a small defeated sigh escaping through the cloth in his mouth. "That's better. Now, I'm going to take the gag off so we can talk," she said slipping forward and hooking her finger into the rag by his right ear.
It was quicker than she'd been expecting, the rush of that special sort of bullshit he was so good at spewing. And she'd be damned if she didn't let out a bit of a chuckle as that rag settled around his neck and his mouth just started going.
"Callie," Randall said, his voice -the way he said her name-bringing back another rush of memories she quickly shoved down deep. "You gotta let me go. You gotta. You- I know you. You're one of the good ones. You gotta believe me. I didn't know. I didn't….," Randall's eyes were darting around him, taking everything in as he wracked his brain for the right line to pull. "I promise. I won't-"
"We all get one," Callie muttered more to herself than to the boy just staring stupidly at her now. She shook her head and rubbed idly at the bridge of her nose for a moment, grateful for putting a quick end to his useless prattle. She skipped her eyes up to him and sighed. "I saved your life once. We did. Me and Danny… we all get one."
"I know," Randall said quickly, his body leaning forward. "And I was grateful. I am. I am grateful. I just-"
"You what?" Callie said curtly, the harshness in her eyes catching him off guard and again shutting down his rambling. She raised a brow and waited for him to continue. Waited and watched him wrestle with what he was going to say. Eventually, he sighed and she realized that he might have finally fuckin' settled on the truth.
"All my life, my daddy taught me to back the right horse, ya know?" Randall said shakin' his head and watching her. "All my life…"
"Yeah, I know," Callie said nodding as she set her elbow to her knee. "And you didn't think we were the right ones to keep you alive. I know," Callie said quietly, a self-deprecating smile sliding over her face as she watched him shift again along the wall. "I got that the minute you brought those guys to camp."
Randall stared at her for a moment, his jaw tight and his eyes set on her face.
"I didn't-I never thought," Randall started, and Callie raised a hand to stop him. A hand that settled yet again on the bridge of her nose where she rubbed at the pounding headache she knew she was only making worse by being in here.
"Hit the nail on the head there, buddy-boy," Callie mumbled between her fingers as she stared at the floorboards between them. She bobbed her head a bit, her fingers falling from her mouth so that she could speak clearly to the little prick staring at her. "You backed the wrong horse, Randall," Callie said, watching Randall's chin dip to his chest in a slow nod, his eyes shifting around him slightly. "But," Callie said lifting her hand out a bit causing the boy's head to snap up again. "We all get one, right?"
"I thought you were dead," Randall said slowly his eyes glued to her face as she smiled at him.
"You hoped we were."
The quiet that followed that simple statement was deafening and heavy. Callie settled into it, found a new sort of comfort in the heavy quiet of this world. The quiet that wasn't really quiet, just a calm before a storm.
Callie watched Randall's eyes shift down to his boots for a second, his body language depicting the cowed child he liked to pretend to be, while his eyes gave him away. Just as they always had. At least to her. They shifted quickly from his boots around the room and then landed firmly on her gun, his mouth hitching to the side quickly as he glanced back at her.
"You ain't here to kill me," Randall said quietly his head finally shifting away from the table where her gun was settled to face her fully. She watched him settle back against the wall, watched his shoulders hit and then his body slide into a comfortable slump of annoyance as he half-glared back at her. "Ain't here to let me go. So…what do you want?"
"Answers," Callie said smiling widely at the boy before her. Happy that they'd finally seemed to move past the bullshit and on to the truth. His head bobbed slightly and he scoffed at her before shifting his eyes away and back. Callie settled back onto the heel of her right foot and let her left knee hit the floor as she leaned forward just a bit. "You see, Randall, well before this shit storm happened, I was paid to see through people like you. And I was pretty fuckin' good at it. So I know that the information you gave to Danny and Daryl when they were workin' out their frustrations the other day was only half the story. I know," Callie said pointing a finger at him and watching his eyes widen just a fraction. "Because while you may have been taught to back the right horse, you learned how to make it go where you wanted. You know how to play people, Randall. And you played Danny and Daryl."
"I didn't…I don't know what…"
"You played on Danny's guilt and Daryl's obvious anger," Callie interrupted with a small shake of her finger. "You used that story about what happened at the farm to your advantage. You had no idea Danny and I were here, no idea. You caught onto something in Daryl and you used it to your advantage, saw a way to deflect him from really digging. I gotta say," Callie tipped back slightly and smirked. "It's kinda fuckin' impressive."
"I told them-"
"Shhhhh," Callie said lifting a finger and wagging it again. "Shut up. For once, just shut up." Randall's mouth clamped shut and Callie bobbed her head as her hand once again fell to her still upraised right knee. "See I get it. You figure Rick bringing you back here after that scuffle between him and Shane at the first drop was a sign of weakness. You saw an in. And when Carl and Ben were here right before Daryl, you caught another whiff. Then the other night, when Rick didn't pull that trigger, well…." Callie raised her hand in invitation for him to speak, but he didn't. He just stared at her and waited for her to lay it out for him. Waited for her to get to the point. "You think you've got an out," Callie said leaning in close. "You don't. Trust me when I tell you, both of those men; Daryl and Rick, they want to kill you. They want you dead. Just like me." She leaned in closer and stared hard into Randall's eyes. "Now, tell me, am I lying?"
Randall's jaw ticked again, his mouth firmed so tight that even in the bare light of the room she could see how white his lips were from the effort. He stared at her and she smiled as she leaned back again.
"Callie-"
"I want answers, Randall," Callie said tiredly as she shifted her eyes around her, checking the door where she could see the misting rain dripping from the edge of the still slightly ajar door. "Before you go, I want answers. My people are here, and they need to know exactly what's out there." Callie glanced over at Randall again and watched the wheels start to turn, watched him try to yet again figure a way around everything. It was interesting to see such loyalty in the little shit, especially after all he'd done. "Where are they, Randall?"
"I don't -"
"Thirty people," Callie started, her hand lifting to rub at the bridge of her nose again. "Thirty men, women and children, right? I think that was true. That was under duress, and you weren't prepared with a lie so I'm gonna say that's fuckin' true. So….thirty men, women and children wouldn't be caravanning around, they would be stationary. Or as stationary as they could be. Your men at the bar, said you were living out of cars, but from what Danny described that truck your boys left in didn't seem to be filled with supplies either," Callie smirked when Randall shifted uncomfortably in his spot on the ground. "They were a scouting party, maybe looking for provisions…."
"Lookin' for a place," Randall said quietly and Callie's chin tipped up as she smiled.
"There we go," Callie said in return, her head bobbing slightly as Randall looked off to the side again at her gun. Callie dragged in a low breath and blinked her eyes, happy that she had finally broken through. Finally got to where she needed to. This was too important. Too many people she cared about would be here at this farm, and she'd be damned if she was going to leave Rick in the lurch again. Leave him without giving him every bit of information he needed to make things work here. "So, they're in town now?"
"Might be," Randall said in return, his shoulders shrugging slightly. Callie's head bobbed again and she chewed the inside of her cheek as she considered what that meant. The thought had already pretty much been decided as a fact by Callie, and Rick…reluctantly on his part, but she'd pushed it enough that he understood the danger. Hearing it made it both better and worse. Made it real. Made it a threat. "Can't really say though," Randall continued, obviously catching onto Callie's silent consideration and once again hoping to use it to his advantage. She glared at him as he shifted forward slightly. "Could still be at our camp. Either way I can talk to them. If you let me go, I can-"
"Don't," Callie said tightly. "Let's not get to the point where this has to get uncomfortable, Randall. I'm not in the mood." Callie sighed and shifted her eyes around her catching on hooks and ropes, and all the shit she just didn't want to fuckin' see in that small shed that smelled so fucking familiar it hurt. Her eyes skipped down to her wrists and she blinked past the wetness that had started to form on her eyelashes. Her next question was said in a voice barely above a whisper, but it echoed all the same. "Is he still alive?"
"Who?" Randall asked almost immediately, the question obviously taking him off guard. Callie's eyes lifted, a glare fit to kill pinning the boy's back to the wall again and she watched him drag in a slow breath through his nose. He swallowed and blinked and then shifted his shoulders along the wall. "Yeah, he's alive."
"Is he in charge?" Callie's clipped tone must have hit a nerve with Randall, his eyes staying locked on her as he realized she wasn't playing around. Wasn't one to be fucking played with.
"Nah," Randall said with a slow shake of his head. "He's just one of the crew," Randall said his head tilting to the side as he watched her. She slipped forward and stared hard into his eyes as her hand settled at his leg, her fingers tightened a bit over the bandage at his calf and he began to squirm. "I ain't lyin', Callie. I ain't. He's nothing." His breath left in gasps and he tried to kick away from her but she held tight, pulling his leg just slightly before something ripped through her and had her pulling away and clenching her hand tight. "Why's it matter?"
"Knowing who isn't in charge, is almost as important as knowing who is," Callie said quietly in return. "Knowing who's in the ranks that could cause a problem, or an uprising," she looked at him. "It's important, isn't it?" Callie said back watching Randall's head tip to the side and a small smile tilt his lips. Randall nodded slowly and she nodded back. "You know it about us, so we should know it about you. All's fair, right?"
"Ain't nothin' fair these days," Randall said quietly in return and Callie nodded her head, her eyes shifting down to her hand where it had settled on the floor.
There were no truer words, and really nothing left to be said beyond.
Randall's eyes shifted, just as the sound of shuffling at the door finally broke through the rush of blood pounding through Callie's head. She watched Randall's gaze widen just a bit but turned away before she could see that slow smile spread over his thin lips as he watched the figure enter the shed.
"I don't know who I was expecting," Callie said with a small chuckle as she raked a hand over her head as her eyes landed on the ground again. "But it wasn't you."
Shane didn't say anything in return, just eyed her as he woke from his own apparent moment of shock and began to slowly make his way further into the shed. His gaze raked over her in her crouched position before Randall, and then over to Randall, whose eyes hadn't moved from him since he'd walked in. Callie felt that stare down to her toes but kept her back to him as she stared down at the ground. She knew well what Shane's disapproving stare felt like and she couldn't really say she didn't deserve it this time.
All this time she'd avoided this situation, avoided it and left it to others to deal with when really….from the start it should have been her. All the death. All the distrust. It all could have been avoided if she'd just bit the bullet a bit earlier.
Callie shook her head at herself and tangled her fingers into the rat's nest of a pony tail settled at the base of her skull.
"I'd appreciate if this stayed between us for now," Callie said with a smile, tipping her head up to where she felt Shane's presence looming over her near the table. Shane stared down at her his jaw clenched tight. She stared up into his eyes and sucked in a slow breath between her parted lips, her spine stiffening as her body coiled tight. For one second her mind shifted and she was back in that field, staring down the barrel of his gun, and her blood ran cold.
"Just can't fuckin' leave things be," Shane muttered coldly. "Always gotta be there."
Callie shifted just a bit in her crouched position, barely an inch of movement but it was enough. Enough to tilt Shane's head to the side and stop her cold. Her eyes shifted to Randall for a split second, his eyes hitting hers and that twinkling fucking smug expression really all the confirmation she needed that she wasn't reading the situation wrong. Her lips firmed and she looked back to Shane his eyes still intent upon her, while his hands worked in a convulsive way at his sides.
"Shane," Callie said in a calming tone as she lifted her left hand, her right sliding up to where her gun should have been. Her jaw clenched and her eyes shifted just a fraction of inch to the left, to her gun settled on that table right beside Shane. His eyes followed hers and she felt the fucking chill run down her spine when his eyes skipped back to her. She was moving then, sprung tight as she was she should have been quicker, but something in her just wouldn't let herself really believe that it could happen. Her words to Dale all those nights ago came rushing back and blurred her vision as she raised a hand up.
'I just couldn't accept that there wasn't any good left…'
We all get one…
She was well over her quota.
She was almost fully on her feet, her hand reaching out to him when his hand settled on her gun on the table.
"Don't," Callie's voice cracked, her hand and arm recoiling away as she prepared, tried to block it. She turned just slightly, her eyes closing to the sight of her gun careening towards her head. The impact was painful, jarring, and it reverberated from her temple where the gun smashed and tore into her flesh down to her toes.
Her knees buckled and she fell hard to the ground. Blood dripped from the left side of her face where Shane had hit her, and by some miracle she was still up. Rocking on her hands and knees before Randall, her head spinning and vision blackened to almost nothing. All she could see were her hands, and the slow drip of blood from her head. Her head was heavy, lolling along with the sway of her body on the floorboards. But she was still up. Still awake. Still lucid enough to shift her head just a fraction of an inch up to where Shane loomed closer now.
His hand rose again and this time she just didn't have any chance at saving herself from the impact. Intense, searing pain again splintered through her head as it spun to the right with the force of the blow, her arms collapsing and face smashing hard into the dirt-covered floorboards as she fell into the abyss of unconsciousness.
And I won't be made a fool of…
Don't call this love,
Don't call this love,
Why did you feel the need to prove that everybody else was right?
No I won't fight,
Oh you're my tragedy…tragedy,
Oh you're my tragedy
~Tragedy/ Christina Perri
AN: Well… okay then. There you go! *runs and hides*
*side note: I have a headcanon that Shane was actually the one to first call Rick Officer-friendly. So yeah, that whole thing with Merle plays well into the Shane / Rick dynamic and differences. I hope you all enjoyed that bit of Merle too!
Much love, and happy reading!