"It's better to be sorry and stay than to be sorry and go away." - Irish Proverb
"I'm just not sure this is the place for me. I'm a Traveller. We move. We never settle in one place for long. It's in my blood." Kieran answered.
"So you're going back out there." Danni gestured beyond the cell block wall. "To take your chances with Walkers?"
Kieran clenched his jaw and wrung his hands as he sat on his bunk.
"The world is different now. You can't just wander around on your own. You need a group, a safe place. It's not suited for the Traveller life." Danni stated, crossing her arms tightly across her chest.
"Oh, it's exactly suited for it. A man like me taking chances just like always."
"You'd rather take your chances with Walkers and people like the Governor than be with me?"
"Of course not. That's not what I'm doing."
Danni took a deep breath "I wanted to be the one to tell you about what happened, how it was living with her."
"Daryl was right to tell me when he did. He opened my eyes Danni. He reminded me of who I am and why I'm no good for you."
"That's why you're leaving? Because of what happened to me?"
"No."
"Then it's because of Daryl?"
"Certainly not. He's a grand fella you have there. A real man if ever I saw one."
Danni swallowed a lump rising in her throat.
"He's doing a fine job taking care of you. He made it clear he's doing it all on his own. I know I'm not wanted love and that never bothers me or caused me to leave a place. But knowing when I'm not needed. That's another story. I'll not stay where I'm not needed."
"So Daryl is really why you're leaving?"
"No, no. I am why I'm leaving. I can't give you anything. I'm a broken down bum Danni. I've got nothing."
"No one has anything these days." Danni sat beside him. "And according to my mother you've always been a bum. So what's the problem?" She tried to smile. 'Weren't we gonna try?"
Kieran gazed at his daughter with admiration. She was strong and smart. And she'd become so without any guidance from him.
"Nan made us find each other dad. There has to be a reason for that."
"My mother's a whack job."
"Dad!"
"What? I love your Nan, but that woman is a total loon," he chuckled. "You know she threatened me with a duck once. Well, to be accurate, a goose." When he saw the look on Danni's face, he smiled. "Long story that I would have to be a little drunk to tell properly."
"Sounds like Nan." After a pause Danni added, "You know, we waited for you to come back for us. Me and Tara. Nan must have told you about her."
He nodded, "She did, sent me photos. Beautiful. Like you. "
"I'd tell her stories about how you were off doing very important things but as soon as you were done you'd come take us away. It could be any day so we always had a suitcase packed under the bed. Ready, waiting...but...you never came. I didn't unpack that suitcase until the day after Tara...died."
Danni studied her father. He seemed to have lost the goofy, carefree demeanor and replaced it with a heavy seriousness and almost a detachment from everything and everyone around him. It was almost like he was drowning out the world. She saw his eyes filled with deep sadness. The kind of sadness you feel only after a horrible loss. Then she saw it, her father's eyes fill with tears as a couple dropped to his shirt.
"I protected her from him. But in the end I couldn't protect her from herself."
"By her own hand?"
Danni nodded. "She got tired of waiting."
Kieran sighed so deeply Danni saw his chest heave.
"Nan told me why you left. You worked for Uncle Frankie. I know you robbed banks, got in trouble with the FBI and other mobs. It sounded ike a movie. "
He nodded and murmured, "Like a movie, right."
"You went to Ireland. But why didn't you come back? They must have stopped looking for you?"
"Why? Danni I was barely twenty years old when you were born. Almost twenty-five when I left. Just a kid myself. I didn't know what I was doing. I listened to your Nan. Maybe I shouldn't have but she was scared, she said I'd be no good to you dead. Did she tell you I wanted to take you with me?"
Danni shook her head.
"Your ma wouldn't come with me, wouldn't let me take you so I went on my own. I guess I was no good to you alive either then."
Danni looked away. "You could have fought her."
"I had nothing to offer you. I was a loser Danni. A bum." He said again. "A criminal. A fugitive from the law."
"But why, why didn't you come back. Things cooled off right?"
"Danni its complicated." He looked off with a wistful grimace. "I've done things love, things I am not proud of," Kieran said pensively, peering back into his mind. "Things that haunt me now and I don't want them to haunt you. I'm no good for you."
Danni answered, but Kieran couldn't hear her over his memory.
I'll be right back with your check." She said.
"No need to hurry." He replied serenely. "Been a long day already. I'm rather enjoying sitting still for a while."
"Ok then." The dark haired waitress seemed a bit jumpy and Kieran noticed the bruises on her cheek she tried to cover with makeup. He didn't stare but was sure to look her in the eye when he spoke. She had pride he could sense it. He felt some anger rise at the thought of women and children being abused, hurt in any way. Anger. He needed that motivation now.
The first thing she noticed about him after his Irish brogue was the way he pronounced her name. She couldn't remember the last time a man had pronounced it and given her chills.
"Thanks, Charlotte." Kieran had said politely noticing her name tag as she sat a fresh cup of coffee at his table.
Charlotte. He said it the way her mother had on the day she was born. "Charlotte" he had said, as naturally as if he had been saying her name his entire life. It put her off guard and made her nervous for some odd reason. She caught herself staring at him and quickly looked away. She suddenly felt hesitant to speak and she had no idea in hell why. He was just a guy sitting at a table eating cherry pie. He was polite, though. That was different around those parts. Maybe even a true to life, honest-to-God pop-culture phenomenon. This guy just might be a gentleman. She wasn't sure, but as she walked away she thought she could feel his eyes on her. Then her eyes dropped down to his feet. No patent leather businessman-like shoes there, and no soft tan leather loafers like you might expect, either. He was wearing rough looking black boots. At first they seemed to clash somehow with his suit, but after a few more seconds of watching him they seemed to fit. She couldn't picture him as the biker type, but for some reason the boots suited him perfectly. A black briefcase was tucked under the table close to him. He could have been a banker on a weekend trip.
She had a strange sense that she knew him, but of course she didn't know him. He was obviously a stranger passing through. A rush of warm air met her as she walked through the swinging doors into the kitchen. She waited for the doors to swing closed again and then peeked through the narrow crack between them to take another look at the man sitting at her table.
For all practical purposes, he was a pretty average looking guy. Mid-twenties maybe? Dark hair, in need of a trim. It was the way he dressed, maybe, that really made her take note. A suit, white shirt, and a black tie, but a bit disheveled. A young guy like that wearing a suit around these parts was a rare sight outside of church or a funeral.
It had been a long drive south from New York City and Kieran needed this respite; a coffee break at a diner. He always had a sense of dread as heavy as a lead cannonball in his gut before a job. He supposed it was because his conscience hadn't been completely obliterated yet. He focused on The Why. The why sometimes made it easier. If they deserved it, it didn't feel so bad.
He stood up and pulled his wallet from his back pocket, fished through it and removed only one bill. He tucked it beneath the corner of the saucer his coffee cup rested on. She noticed he was wearing a black leather belt, and as he moved she could see the letters KD embossed in the leather. Kevin maybe? She wondered. Moments later he was gone. 'Great' She thought, 'I bet he just left me a shit tip. His tab was $9.13 and I bet he left me a ten.' She resigned herself to a dollar tip as she went to clear the table. She pulled the bill from its hiding place under the saucer, palming it without thought. She stopped and looked at the bill again, momentarily catching her breath. Benjamin Franklin stared up at her from the palm of her hand.
She clutched the bill to her chest. The Dixons were 100.000 short on rent and were facing eviction. She rushed to the window of the diner and watched the stranger drive off in a dark car with out of state plates.
"So," Kieran said, wiping the blood from his chin. "That's how it's gonna be, huh?" His bottom lip was bleeding. He didn't mind the stinging pain or the blood on his shirt, but when a stray drop of blood landed on his right boot he found himself genuinely pissed off. "Aye, now that just sucks, doesn't it?" He huffed. A man was lying on the ground in front of him, staring up at him wildly. Both of his knees were shattered and his face looked as if it had met a concrete wall. Matter of fact, it had. Kieran stood over him, opening and closing his right hand. A pair of brass knuckles was clenched tightly in his fist, covered with drying blood. He sucked at his bottom lip then spat red. "That was a good shot you got in there Jimmy. I did not see that one coming." He mused even though he knew the man had only hit him by chance. When he fell on the man in the dark, he hooked one booted foot behind his right knee and kicked his leg out from under him. Then pegged him hard in the back of the head with the brass knuckles. He grabbed a handful of the man's hair and pulled him back, and as he did the man slapped blindly at him as he fell to his back. It was a blind panicky punch that barely connected. Just enough to piss him off, though. Kieran had been too eager to kill the man, and he had let himself get a touch sloppy. It was alright by him, though. He had every intention of making this one messy.
"What?!" The man stammered. "Dude you're straight fucking nuts. Who the fuck are you?" He yelled.
"You can holler all you want, no one can hear you. It's just you and me, the stars and the crickets out here, my man. And I work for Frank Flannery, by the way." He said, almost cordially then stopped talking and stared blankly off into the darkness for several seconds. He looked like someone deep in thought or concentration. "I tracked you down Jimmy. You're a long way from home down south here. They can't hide, I always find 'em."
"Motherfucker you're crazy!" The man yelped and tried to crawl away, his ruined knees instantly protesting in agony.
"Might be," Kieran replied glumly. "See, I used to go through these moments of doubt when my conscience almost got the better of me. Maybe I was doing the right thing the wrong way like. Then I came to this epiphany, see. I realized that some of the greatest minds ever known to man felt the same doubt I sometimes do.. And that never stopped them from doing what needed to be done."
"Man what the fuck are you even talking about?" The man at his feet cried.
"Sorry," Kieran replied blankly. "I got distracted there. What I'm trying to say is I'm just doing my job."
Kieran slipped the brass knuckles from his fingers and deposited them in a jacket pocket, and with the same swift motion pulled a pistol from under his left arm. He thumbed the latch and flicked the gun to one side, popping the cylinder out. He spun it with his thumb and then flicked the gun again, the cylinder rotating back home with a metallic click. He leveled the gun at the man's head.
"Anyway, I'm here on behalf of the Flannerys. They lost a boy a few weeks back. Some bastard took him out of his bedroom. Did some horrible things to him, then stuffed him in a fertilizer bag and put him in a hole out by a retaining pond. Poured lime over him, bag and all then buried him. Forensics said the kid was still alive when he went into the ground. He was just a kid. Ten years old." Kieran felt anger seethe all over again. "Nothing lower than a man who hurts kids. Baby rapists and child killers..."
"Oh… no…" The man pleaded, his voice quivering.
"Oh, yes. Damned shame, that was." A shot rang out and the man at his feet lay still. Kieran sucked at his lip again and spat blood. He closed his eyes then stood there for several moments, running his fingers through his hair. He shook his head as if to shake off cobwebs. "I need another cup of coffee." He sighed to himself as he walked away, disappearing into the dark.
"Don't you?" Danni's voice broke through his reverie.
"What?"
"Don't you owe me an explanation for why you stayed in Ireland.'
"I didn't stay."
"What?"
"I came back to the states after a couple of years. I stopped in New York, to see your Uncle Frank. He said he needed me for a couple jobs, then I could go back home. Well, it was more than a few jobs. Next thing I knew I was deep in it again Danni. Deeper than before. I couldn't come back to you. Not the way I was then. I didn't keep in touch with your Nan either."
Danni was speechless.
"I've done some terrible things...I hurt so many people. I didn't deserve you Danni. Hurting you, is the worst thing I've done. I've justified so much. But I can't justify leaving you like I did. Danni. I can't forgive myself and I don't expect you to forgive me either."
"And you won't even give me the chance, is that it?"
"I can't do this, I have nothing to offer you. I blew my chance a long time ago. I don't know how to be your father." He had put his own issues first. Parents are not supposed to do that. He never should have had children. "Look Danni, if a person doesn't have himself figured out first, how can that person prepare a child to go out into the world. They can't."
Danni knew he was right. She'd experienced the lack of preparation first hand. She grew up on her own, motivated by fear to keep running, flying by the seat of her pants. She never had a mom or dad to tell her it was okay to say no or that it's okay to ask questions if you don't know how to do something. It's okay to be angry or sad; to cry or to ask for help. She never had parents who put her to bed and night and made her breakfast in the morning.
"I don't want you to take care of me!" Despite what Kieran was saying Danni felt the panic of loss all over again. The same feeling she had when her mother told her that her father was never coming home again. She found herself pleading, trying to explain. "I'm not who I was. I'm not that little girl who waited for her daddy to come back. I just want...I don't know what we are to eachother right now, but I don't want you leave. Not again."
He continued packing. "Just like your ma, you won't give up! It's too late! It's too late for me to take care of you! All I want is to do that take care of you and keep you safe thing, but I can't! You're better off without me, don't you see that?"
"Fuck you," Danni said quietly then louder. "Fuck you! I don't need you, look what I have. My husband, my kids my family. You really fucked up and you really missed out by not being there for me. You could have had so much. I spent so much time being mad at mom, like your leaving was her fault. Then, I blamed myself and now I'm blaming Nan, but you made the decision to leave in the first place and you made the decision not to come back to me." She stamped her foot angrily. "How could you leave? I know that people have their own dramas and are damaged and stuff, but my dramas couldn't keep me from my kids, no way."
Kieran wouldn't look at her.
"I should have left you out in the woods. Daryl was right."
"Danni wait." He finally turned.
Danni's gut started churning, the contents of her stomach threatening to spill. Feeling blindsided and devastated, she stormed out of his cell and stumbled through the block, ignoring all the folks asking her what was wrong.
Damn it!" What the fuck is happening? Nothing was making any sense. There was no balance between her actions and her feelings. She was standing outside in the chilly air, her mind spinning out of control. It took all of her strength not to collapse to the ground. The sound of Walkers hissing and grunting at the fence was deafening all of a sudden. She screamed with pain and frustration, "What the fuck!" Of course, it began to rain. Certainly her tears and the raindrops that were rolling down her face were visually inseparable. She pulled her knife from its holster and ran to the fence plunging it into as many skulls as she could through the chain link. She screamed and stabbed until her wrist and forearm became numb. The pounding of her heart and gasps for air caused her legs to weaken and shake. As tough as she was, her breath escaped and her searing tears had no end in sight. "This cannot be happening!" She cried out in despair to the rotting forms at the fence. "He's leaving again."
Finally, spent, she headed inside.
"Daryl? " She stumbled toward him up the stairs, numb, looking dazed. He sensed her fragility and her despair. It was like she had no strength left at all. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen her so defeated. He grabbed her, aware that she was weak but knew it was only in front of him because he was her strength. Her eyes were red from crying, pale cheeks streaked pink from the burning tears and her wet hair hung limply over her shoulders.
"Don't say you're fine, you're not fine." He ordered gently.
She was quiet. Too damn quiet.
"Talk."
Danni shook her head.
"Talk to me." He said again.
"What's the point?"
"I wanna talk."
"Why?"
"I wanna talk because ...I like the sound of your voice."
She peeked up at him from under her bangs. "Yeah? Thought I talk too much."
"Nah, its when you don't talk I get worried and feel all cagey." His lip curled into a small smile.
"He's leaving."
"What?"
"My dad, he's walking out again…"
"Goddamn son of a bitch!" Daryl growled with rage, realizing his worst fear had come true. He had worried about Danni being crushed a second time by Kieran. "What the-?" He stopped himself and realized that his outburst would do nothing for her.
"He says...says he can't offer me anything, can't take care of me. I don't want him to. I just want him to be here."
"I know." Daryl held her and she pressed her face into his chest breathing his Angelica archangelic scent, feeling herself become calm. "What I really think is that it's too hard to try to work on things. The abuse stuff scared him off. I guess because I'm not worth the work, huh? You were right. You were right and I should have listened to you."
"Hey, that ain't you talking like that. You are worth every ounce of a fight a man has in him." I'm proof of that.
"I feel sick."
She moved from his arms and sprinted downstairs to the bathroom. She kneeled before in the toilet bowl, spilling the contents of her stomach into the water at the bottom. When she'd emptied herself, she lifted her head, flushed the toilet and stood at the sink. She rinsed out her mouth. After she had splashed water on her pale face, she looked hard at herself in the small cracked shaving mirror someone had mounted to the wall. She knew that she had to stand tall and accept it. Sometimes she wondered if she was just a self-destructive masochist. Truly self-destructive people who keep going back for more have to be strong. You have to keep getting back up to keep getting knocked down. Just once, she wanted to get up and not to be knocked down again.
Enough. She had to pull her shit together and put on a strong face. Kieran's truth moved her forward. Running and hiding was no longer an option in her life. She worked too damn hard to get past the abuse and fear. Now was the time to let her next moment begin. If he chose not to be a part of it, then he would miss out. Again. The hard truth is we can't control other people. We can only try to take care of ourselves the best we can despite what others may do. I survived it before, I'll survive it again.
When she returned to the perch, Daryl had turned the blankets on the bed down. "Get some sleep."
She stripped off her damp clothing and replaced it with dry leggings and a flannel shirt and crawled under the blanket. Daryl lay on top of it beside her. She curled on her side facing him and took his hand. She squeezed it.
"You need to rest, take better care of yourself now." He touched her stomach. "This worrying ain't good."
"How can he leave? I know that people have their own dramas and are damaged and stuff, but my dramas couldn't keep me from my kids, no way." Now Danni was still pissed realizing everything Kieran missed out on. "I love them so much."
"You were ready for them. We were ready. Face it Danni, our parents weren't. You told me that, made me see it. You gotta see it for yourself now."
"How did you get so smart?"
"We're doing okay," Daryl said his voice confident.
"Yeah, we are, and in this shitstorm of a world too."
He grunted in agreement.
"You were right about him. I'm sorry I didn't listen to you."
He didn't answer, just stroked her cheek looking thoughtful.
"Where are you going?" Danni asked, feeling Daryl move.
"Just need air, going for a walk. Be right back. Okay?"
"Okay. Not too long?"
He shook his head. "No."
Daryl didn't have to go inside cellblock D. When he rounded the corner of the building, he saw Kieran standing at the fence looking out over the last of the crops in need of harvesting, shimmering silver in the moonlight.
"Thought you said you were gonna be here. You said that you're her father and you'd be sticking around," Daryl surprised Kieran.
"Look son, you of all people should be glad to see me going. You win." Kieran put his hands up turning around.
"That's what this is to you, some kinda competition?"
"You made that clear the first moment you met me son. You are my adversary. Were my adversary-"
"Thought you said you was a fighter, a boxer or something. Do ya always lay down so quick?"
"Look, you said it yourself. I don't know her. I've never comforted her. What's worse is that I didn't protect her in the first place. You told me yourself what happened. It's my fault. I made my bed now I've got to lie in it."
Daryl shook his head. "Son of a bitch."
Kieran nodded. "I don't deserve Danni."
"Naw, you don't, but what about her? What about what Danni deserves? You think she deserves being walked out on again, being abandoned again?"
Kieran looked at his hands. "I wasn't there."
"You're here now."
"Aye, I am at that. Have a drink with me boy." Kieran pulled a pint bottle of Jameson's from inside his jacket.
"Naw." Daryl shook his head. "I'm a real asshole when I'm drinking. But I'll take one of them." He motioned to a pack of cigarettes in Kieran's breast pocket. The older man gladly grasped the pack and held it out to Daryl, who took a smoke. "Hard to come by now days."
Kieran took a swig of whiskey "Alcohol is the anesthesia by which we endure the operation of life. George Bernard Shaw said that."
"You do it too don't ya?" Daryl asked lighting up.
"Do what?' Kieran asked after taking a long swig and wiping his mouth with his sleeve.
"Say quotes all the time. Danni's got a journal full and a head full of sayings. She gets from you don't she?" Daryl observed.
"What whiskey will not cure, there is no cure for," Kieran added as if to make Daryl's point stronger.
Daryl took a deep drag, sucking the hot, acrid smoke into his lungs feeling like he was wrapping them in a warm blanket. He slowly exhaled feeling relaxed. He missed smoking regularly. He relished the feeling of the rough paper between his knuckles and the taste on his lips. The sensation of the smoke going out through his lips and nostrils hitting the chilly air cleared his head.
"So?" Daryl asked narrowing his eyes at his father in law.
"What?"
"Danni. You gonna think about her or just yourself?
Daryl didn't wait for an answer. He turned. Kieran stared at the wings on his back fading into the darkness as Daryl walked away.
"There is none so blind as they that will not see," Kieran said aloud and added, "Jonathan Swift." She gets it from me. What else did she get from me? Above all else, deep in her soul, she is a tough Irishwoman.
... .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .
The next day, Daryl took Danni and the babies out to their tree again, not knowing what Kieran had decided, but knowing he wanted Danni to be at peace no matter what. The tree usually did it for her. She had her tarot cards spread in a Celtic Cross and was taking notes in between tickling the babies.
As he watched his beautiful wife, who had given him so much, playing with their kids, Daryl thought about it over and over. What if this Walker shit never happened? What if that day with Ed never happened? His life would be so much different now. Hell, would he have a life? Gazing into Danni's eyes at any moment of any day, completely changed his outlook. There aren't many people who would have believed that what had happened to them was real. It sounded like fiction. They say that the most amazing journeys begin with a single word. So, which one would Daryl use to begin? He shook his head. There wasn't just one word...
He'd never forget the first time he saw her standing on that highway, trying to look so tough. But the first time he truly looked at her face she was smiling, eyes shining like the stars she loved. She was making jewelry with the kids. It wasn't all that long ago, but it felt like an eternity had passed. Looking back at that moment he realized his life began all over again in that instance. That was the first time they met, sure, but more importantly Daryl remembered the first time he understood Danni. At the CDC. She told him what she was, a witch. It sounded beautiful to him. That night, the first they shared an actual bed, a room alone, he saw her as a bound book adorned with pale skin, raven hair and those gleaming eyes. Her eyes held entrancing life within them. She was a storybook that held nothing but intrigue for him, one that he was dying to open. No matter how frightening the tale could be, he knew he'd learn it like the scripture of ancient mythology; she was more of a fairy tale than a piece of reality. He had been so alone. He'd been in a place where even if he could understand anyone, he couldn't understand himself and neither could anyone else. He was angry and could hate in an instant what he'd spent a lifetime trying to love, and he never knew why. He was an unsolvable riddle and living that way was hopeless. He had been lost. When he saw Danni, he saw kindness, curiosity and a cracked idealism in her eyes. She walked with grace and poetry in every step. She smiled a genuine smile that radiated enough joy to end a war, and it initiated a ceasefire within him.
He had wanted more. And she gave more. She kept giving, knowing what he needed. His curiosity developed into passionate learning. Through the flaws of her skin, the words from her mouth, the tales she could weave, the love that she gave, the longing, distant gaze towards the endless skies he pieced together the lexicon that decoded a masterpiece. He knew her. He knew she was a masterpiece of a book with burnt pages, some erased and eliminated, others torn into slices barely attached to their parchment and many empty towards the back. Those were pages both expectant of the future but fearing fate like the tattered ones before them. Most, however, were holding onto their binding, spelling out words he never imagined would go so amazingly well together. He read glorious descriptions, dazzling events and philosophies he found kinship with, ones that he held deep inside, desperate for someone else to see him. He was swept away. She could speak with such ferocity and power that he couldn't help but reply, willing to discuss everything that he knew just to hear what she'd say. She told him so many stories that transported him to places he had never been. She was a born storyteller, bringing new worlds to fruition from the dust of her mind. The idea was amazing to Daryl, she was amazing to him. When she told him she just wanted him to understand who she was, that even though she had faults she did her best to be a worthwhile person, something clicked in him. Fate, circumstance, identification, a bond, her hand in his.
He wanted her. Sometimes though she was still a mystery even when she was open to him as if he were given the right to read something that he could not own. He wanted that book to be his. He wanted to take it with him, to repair it, to complete those lonely pages, to give it the care and attention it deserved. He loved her. Did she ever see it? Notice it? The way he would glance at her as she glanced at the stars, both of them amazed at what they saw? Would she believe it if he did? It always pained him how they could stand in a mirror side by side, and saw beauty only in the person beside them. He valued her. He had been afraid it wouldn't last, that strife would tear them apart; that they would fall apart, splitting in half at the seams. He didn't want to be another set of torn pages to her, leaving more scars on the skin of the paper. He wanted to be eternal. He wanted her to be eternal.
Daryl and Danni were both drifters, alone in the world. He was worried he wasn't good enough to deserve an eternity to remember with someone else. She believed the same thing. And yet, that's all they wanted to give each other. He was just like her. He never looked inside himself, truly had never seen what kind of story he was. He had so many awful memories, moments of disgusting guilt and so many people he had hurt and who'd hurt him, that he dared not to look any further. He didn't write willingly, he let the story dictate itself. He could never bring himself to solve his own riddle because he was afraid of the answer. She thought he was worth it. She was the girl who stood up to him, stood up for him. The only one who ever had. The girl with an entire universe in her mind. The girl who had little but gave a lot. The girl with such a beautiful face and huge knowing eyes that were capable of more than his entire body was. The girl who was everything to him saw him as her world. She loved him. What did she see in him? What sort of fascination could even compare to how he felt about her? Why did she care on a level anywhere near the level of which he did for her? He didn't expect an answer to ever be given, but that was okay. He understood because he was the same way. He could only string words together and hope they formed some structure. He was never good at talking. Maybe someday she'd tell him the answer to his own riddle, or was the answer Danni all along? He was privileged. She saw inside him better than anyone else could. She said she saw things inside him that she wished she could claim. She saw beauty, charm, strength integrity, compassion, and love. He had never seen himself as anything but worthless and he could only confirm that he was a loving person because he loved her. He had always lived within himself as an uncomfortable tenant. he acted on impulse, trying to bring life to everyone else to compensate for the peace he couldn't find within himself until she placed her hand in his as if she were the privileged one. And yes, she loved him.
"What are you staring at?" She teased bringing him out of his thoughts.
He squinted in the sun and shook his head.
"Look they can do it, roll over on their tummies! They did Daryl." She was beaming. "All by their little selves!"
"Course they can."
"He's still here." She changed the subject suddenly. "I saw him after breakfast, talking with Rick."
"You think your dad's staying after all?" Daryl chewed on a stalk of grass.
"Why would he? He made it clear he needs to leave. Wants to leave."
He shrugged. "People change their minds. You talk to him?'
"Not yet."
"You gonna?"
Before she could answer, Merle called to them from behind the fence. "Daryl, get your ass back here. Got something to talk to you about."
"Yeah, in a bit.'
"Now Daryl. I found something while I was out um, hunting, and you and Rick need to know about it. Now."
Daryl recognized the urgency and sensed foreboding in Merle's voice. "Let's go." He stood and helped Danni gather their stuff and pick up the babies.
At that moment, Danni heard the cawing of crows as several of the sleek black birds landed and perched on the fence in a majestic line in front of her. They stared. Their heads moved back and forth as they continued their strong, harsh caws.
The Tower. She'd pulled that tarot card in her 'future' position just now. Its key messages are disaster, upheaval, sudden change, revelation, fighting, war, courage, destruction, danger, fall, ruin. Danni had figured it had to do with her fantasy of Kieran disintegrating. The crows caused her to think of the bigger picture, the prison itself. She clutched Ryder close to her chest and breathed in his sweet powdery scent trying to quell the twisting apprehension in her stomach. Daryl nuzzled Scout as he held her and walked beside Merle.
The crows continued to watch Danni as she walked through the gate and headed to the prison with Daryl and Merle. Morrigan. Morrigan. The name passed through her mind in Brigid's voice. She is the goddess of battle, strife, and sovereignty. She sometimes appears in the form of a crow, flying above the warriors. The crows are her messengers.