Honorable Intentions

Chapter 8: and it all starts coming down

"Some people see scars, and it is wounding they remember. To me they are proof of the fact that there is healing." ― Linda Hogan

His chest moved up and down beneath her cheek as he half-ran toward camp. Black and bitter oaths fell from his lips as she shivered in his arms, tiny muted cries occasionally escaping her when a memory skittered too close to the surface. Red. All she could see was red. A flood that snaked out in coarse lines and hollows, etching paths and flaring runs. Those horrible sounds echoed in her ears. Gasps, moans, grunts. And his eyes…those hellfire and brimstone eyes that promised a reckoning.

"Almost there," she heard him mutter. "Not much further, girl. You hear me. You're almost home."

She laughed, voice breaking on the edge of a sob that swiftly escalated in to a throat rending scream. It seemed to start at her toes and built until it erupted in a howl that shook the heavens. She shoved a fist in her mouth, trying to hold it in…shut it down but the wellspring had been opened and there was no curtailing the flow. It climbed higher until the man had no choice but to act. He set her down and took a firm grip on her shoulders as he yelled her name. When that failed, he looked around wildly, blue eyes as wide and staring as those of the wailing girl in his arms.

It stopped as suddenly as it began. Her eyes rolled back in her head, knees folding up like flower petals, and she wilted, falling gracefully into the dirt, her blond hair a halo around her tear-stained face.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

They scattered in every direction as those who'd stayed in camp sought distraction. Busy hands didn't take their minds off the two stowaways or the men who'd went to bring them back. They were all too aware of what might happen. Eyes scanned the tree line before lifting to the sky to gauge the hour. Prayers were mouthed quietly and fervently. Keep them safe. Bring them home. Let them be okay.

A lone sentinel stood watch at the edge of the clearing. Her arms were folded over her middle, hands clasping her elbows. A thousand thoughts chased their tails in her mind. They should have been back by now. The men hadn't been able to find them. Something was wrong…wrong…wrong. She couldn't stand it anymore. If they didn't come back soon, she was going to lose her mind.

"Don't even think about it," his backwoods drawl was more pronounced than usual. Her eyes found him crouched on his haunches, back resting against the trunk of a nearby oak. "I can see which way the wind's blowing. You ain't going so quit thinking about it."

"She's my baby girl," Carol burst out. "How do you expect me to wait here?"

His eyes were cold and hard as flint. "He's my baby brother, the only family I've got left, and I let him go off on his own. I stayed to look after you because that's what he wanted. You ain't going and that's that."

"Bastard," she hissed under her breath, uncaring at the way his eyes narrowed. "You heard the shot too. Something must have happened. They could be hurt."

His hands fisted at his sides, showing more of a reaction than she expected. "No," he pushed the words out through tight lips. "We wait."

"Fine," she gave ground grudgingly. "I'll wait. For now."

Merle surprised her by settling back against his tree and letting the conversation drop. She turned her gaze back to the tree line, willing something to happen. Anything would be preferable to this. And then she heard it…a shifting branch, the rustling of leaves underfoot, a boy's high-pitched voice. Before she knew it, she was moving, hurrying through the brush despite Merle's shout of warning. She couldn't wait anymore. She had to know.

She saw Carl and Rick first. The boy was as pale as a sheet, covered in blood and gore. He clung to his father, plastered to his side like a wraith. They stopped as soon as they caught sight of her, the color leeched from Carl's cheeks, leaving them a dusky gray. Rick raised his hand in a placating fashion. "They're okay, she's okay. Daryl has her. Let's get them settled and then we'll talk."

"Where are they?" Her voice sounded high and keen to her ears, panic giving it a frayed edge. "What happened?" She saw them then through the trees, her daughter's lanky form hanging lifeless in his arms. Her head lolled on his shoulder, sweat and dirt matting the lank pale strands. "Oh my God, Sophia, can you hear me? Baby, its momma. I'm here, Sophia. I'm here."

Arms wound around her in a vise like grip and pulled her away. Carol dug her nails viciously into tender flesh, wincing as her heels collided with what felt like a shin and the knobby outcropping of a knee. "Hold still, mouse, or I'm gonna have to hurt you," his soft voice hissed in her ear. "Let him get her to the camp so that we can look her over. You're not helping."

Daryl spared them a concerned look but darted past, strides lengthening as he hurried toward the RV. Merle loosened his hold, groaning as he rubbed a sore spot on his leg. Carol ignored him as she took off at run, catching up to the pair and falling in step alongside. Merle watched until they disappeared from view before giving Rick and his son a sidelong glance. "So what happened out there, Officer Friendly," he drawled. "Anything we need to be worried about?"

"No," Rick answered absently, his attention clearly elsewhere. "Just the girl, just that little girl."

The two men shared an uneasy look before they made their own way back to camp.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

He carried her into the RV and went straight to the bedroom, brushing the others and their useless questions aside. Daryl lowered the girl gently to the bed and swept a few strands of sweat soaked hair out of her eyes. "Sophia," he entreated softly. "Come on, gal, open your eyes. Your momma's here. We all want to see you. Come on now."

Carol's steps faltered as she listened to his gentle pleading, unable to comprehend that such tenderness could come from this man. Unexpected warmth surged through her as she watched him chaff the little girl's wrists and stroke her forehead. She went to the other side of the bed and set a bowl of water on the side table before dunking a cloth and then ringing it out. "Let me see her," she nudged him with her elbow, drawing his worried gaze up to hers. "You got her this far. Let me help her now." He slid to the edge of the bed, watching as she washed the blood and dirt off her girl's face before wetting the rag again and running it over her arms. She hummed tonelessly as she worked; a lullaby he dimly remembered from before.

He took the bowl and refilled it with fresh water, nodding to acknowledge the grateful look she sent him. Daryl started when she pressed a clean cloth into his hands and gestured toward his face. He could only imagine how he looked and made do with a hasty wash, unwilling to leave in case he missed something. He perched on the edge of the dresser and watched silently. Voices in the distance let him know the others had made it safely back and were filling the group in oh what happened. He put them out of his mind. That little girl was going to be scared shitless when she woke up and Carol was going to need all the help she could get. He scrubbed a hand through his hair before pressing the heel against his closed eyes.

"What you did for her today," Carol began haltingly, keeping her eyes on her daughter's still form. "You've done more for her than anybody ever did. Thank you." He peeked at her over his fingertips before shifting his gaze to the window. "Her daddy didn't even try. He wanted a boy and when she was born, he took one look at her and said that I couldn't even get that right."

"Asshole," he bit off tersely.

Carol nodded in agreement, a rueful smile tugging at the edges of her mouth. "He never lifted a hand to her. I made sure of that. He mostly acted like she wasn't even around." Her voice faltered, a flicker of shame worming its way to the fore. "Sometimes, I'd see how he looked at her and it turned my blood cold." Her trembling hands betrayed her so she knotted them together in her lap. "It doesn't matter now because he's gone."

"Carol," He said her name softly, almost a whisper. When she looked up, his jaw flexed and tightened before he continued. "You need to know something. You gotta know what happened out there." Her expression shifted, fear chasing out every other emotion. "We tracked them for a couple of miles and then we heard the shot. By the time we got there, stuff had already gone down." He rolled to his feet and started pacing, his hands making quick jerky motions at his sides. "The fucker must have found a back way in. He tried to take her. Sophia, she cut him so that she could get loose. Carl took a shot but missed. When Ed went for Carl, she put his ass down."

Covering her mouth with a shaking hand, Carol made little whimpering sounds as she looked from Daryl to her daughter. "She…Sophia…my Sophia…are you telling me that she….oh my God!" A muffled sob escaped her as the knowledge sank in. "Oh my God! She must have been so scared. Why? What kind of man would put his own daughter through that?"

"That kind ain't a man," he drawled bluntly. "Should have killed him myself instead of running his ass off. It's my fault. If I'd of done what I should have, this wouldn't have happened." Daryl pounded his fist viciously against his palm. "I fucked up. This is on me."

Carol came swiftly to his side, her fingers digging into his forearm to get his attention. "No," she stated as firmly as she could. "Don't you do that. If not for you, she couldn't have protected herself. God only knows what might have happened if he'd taken her." She eased her grip but kept her hand where it was, watching him warily to gauge his reaction. "You saved us both. I'll never be able to repay you for that."

His arm tensed under her fingers but he didn't shy away like she expected. "Don't owe me nothing," he mumbled inaudibly.

She bit her lip, unsure how to respond but brought her other hand up to rest on his shoulder. "You're a good man, Daryl Dixon, one of the best I've known. Will you stay until she wakes up? She'll feel better if she sees you here."

His lips quirked up and he gave a shy nod by way of reply. They settled against the dresser, watching and waiting, as an easy silence enveloped them.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxo

Merle Dixon was easy to read if you knew what to look for and Daryl knew the signs by rote. The clenched jaw, the vein pulsing in his forehead, and the steely gleam in his icy blue eyes made it clear as good glass which way the wind was blowing. He watched silently as Daryl bent over his pack, dumping most of the contents out before he found the kit he used for his crossbow. Flipping the lid up, he rifled around until he found the tube of wax for the string. He repacked the rest and then stooped to tuck it back inside the tent.

"Best hurry up with whatever you got going on, brother," Merle ordered laconically. "We're heading out at first light. Wasted enough time on this bunch of idiots."

Daryl gaped at the older man, the wax forgotten as he mulled this new turn of events. "Thought we were going to stick around a while," he ventured. "You said that was the plan before you went to Atlanta."

Merle kicked idly at a half-buried rock before he met Daryl's questioning look. "That was then, this is now. We don't need these pansy-asses, man. Even a sweet-faced dummy like you can see that, Darylina." When he didn't get an answer, Merle straightened his face hardening as he took a step and grabbed his brother's collar. "We don't need them," he repeated for emphasis. "It's just you and me. That's all we can depend on. You best remember that."

Daryl met his brother look-for-look as he yanked his shirt free and sidled back. "I remember," he grated. "I remember telling you to stay the hell out of my way. I ain't leaving yet. You do what you gotta do, Merle, but don't think that I'm gonna go along this time. It ain't happening, bro."

A dozen expressions flitted across the older man's face before he settled on amused disbelief. "You picked a fine time to grow some balls, little brother. Be careful or you might lose em as quick as you got em." He leveled a finger in Daryl's direction, all traces of amusement fading like dew in the sun. "We're freaks to them, redneck trash. They let us stay for extra muscle and because you hunt. The first chance they get, they'll scrape us off their heels like dog shit. You mark my words."

The words cut because he knew there was a grain of truth in them. They didn't belong. The wary looks and sidelong glances gave the others away. Still, Daryl couldn't forget her words and the warmth of her hand on his arm as she shot down his attempts to shoulder the blame. You're a good man, Daryl Dixon. No one had ever looked at him like she did or told him he had worth. He'd always been a Dixon, a nobody, trailing after his brother because that's all he'd ever known. You're a good man. "I'm staying here," he announced. "You do what you want, Merle, like you always have. No reason to change that now."

Merle's eyes narrowed, his hands twitching spasmodically. His lip curled into a smile that had no humor in it. "You gonna play Daddy now, is that it? You think just because you brought that little girl back to her mamma, she's gonna fold back the covers and let you in. Keep dreaming, fuck head, cause that's all it is…a dream. Woman like that ain't got any use for a backwoods piece of shit like you."

"Fuck you, Merle," Daryl burst out. "You don't know shit."

Merle's smirk was triumphant, his voice brimming with dark humor as he eyed his brother. "Wait and see, son, wait and see. Ole Merle knows a little something about women. That one's looking for somebody to tell her what's what and you ain't man enough. You're soft. Always have been, always will be."

Daryl's fist clenched, the wax tube cracking and splintering in his grasp. "Like I said, you go if you have a mind to. I'm staying here."

"Have it your way, brother," Merle threw his hands up dramatically. "You wanna stay, then we'll stay but only until the girl is back on her feet. They ain't our problem and they never will be." He gave a negligent wave toward the RV. "Best go check on them since you're so damned worried. Maybe you and the mouse can talk about your periods and paint your nails." Daryl flipped him the bird and stomped away from their campsite without a backwards glance.

Merle watched him go, letting the little twinges of worry and doubt show now that there was no one to see it. It was already too late. Daryl was well and truly caught and nothing short of a miracle would convince him to leave the woman and her girl behind. He shook his head sadly, knowing then what he had to do. There was no way around it. They only had each other…the Dixon brothers against the world. That's how it had always been and how it would always be.

End chapter 8…..