Nebraska
Juliet
She heard the voices around her as though they were coming from under water. She couldn't tell if they were or not. Was someone drowning? They sounded panicked. Terrified. There was a scream came from somewhere, though she couldn't say from which direction. They drew closer and further away like they couldn't see her. She couldn't see them. Was she drowning?
She felt like she might be drowning.
She realised very suddenly that she wasn't breathing, that she couldn't. She gasped in air as though she was coming up from being held under water, forced to be submerged. She felt like she couldn't get enough oxygen in to her lungs, and she couldn't place what was wrong with herself. She just stayed like that, hyperventilating, unable to move apart from to bring her head up from her hands and stare straight ahead. It made no difference. Everything was still black anyway.
Maybe I drowned already. Maybe this is what death feels like.
She knew that she wasn't dead. This was just what having nothing left to live for felt like. It horrified her.
She nearly sobbed when she remembered how grateful she had been just weeks before for the end of the world, the apocalypse which had only taken away what in her life was toxic and unwanted and given her back a family she'd thought long lost. She'd been lured into a false sense of security.
Now for the first time she honestly felt that the world had ended.
The grip on her arm snapped her out of it. She felt it, and realised she could still feel things. She wasn't sure she wanted to be able to.
As her vision cleared her head began to spin, and she realised that she was unsteady, and that the hand on her arm was holding her up. It hadn't even registered that she was falling.
She saw the barn, the body. Her body. She couldn't get enough air again.
"Juliet, you need to breathe less." What absolutely ridiculous advice. She needed more air still, she knew she wasn't getting enough. "Don't look at it. Look at me." Her breathing began to steady as she obeyed, only having to divert her eyes a little to the left, turning so nothing remained in the side of her gaze. She kept her eyes fixed on Daryl's. She was glad it was him. She would have told anyone else to leave her alone. Or just screamed. When she opened her lips to ask him where her mother was, she found that she was unable to form words. "Do you want to stand? I'll help you." He moved his hand down her arm to take hers. She simply shook her head.
The tears started rolling down her cheeks, and she wasn't really sure why. Well, she knew why, just not why that specific moment. He enveloped her in his arms and she felt her head resting on his shoulder. She realised there was no-one else around, there couldn't be. He would never be so openly caring if there was. He twined his hand in her hair gently. She basked in the silence.
"We have to bury her." Juliet's voice came out a lot stronger than she felt. Daryl let go of her and she looked at him. "We have to bury her."
"Don't worry about that." But she was worried. She wanted her in the ground as soon as possible, not so she could wash her hands of it. She couldn't stand the thought of her lying there on the ground with all the other monsters around her. "We'll do it this afternoon." She breathed a genuine sigh of relief. Once she was in the ground, she was at peace. The memory of her coming out of the barn was going to be etched in her brain forever, but once she was buried that would start to meld with others, ones of her alive.
At least she had to believe it was.
"I have to wear black."
"Nobody's gonna care what the hell you wear." It wasn't for her. It was a mark of respect, mourning. It was something she needed to do. It was what was normal, wearing black to a funeral. She wondered if she owned enough black to go into full mourning for a month, the way people used to before they realised that was impractical. "But, if you want… Someone'll have somethin'" She had something herself, probably, she'd managed to collect and keep the most clothes out of everyone. She would look rather ridiculous in the only black dress she had, a 50's style one with a large skirt in the middle of the apocalypse. She didn't care. It was a mark of respect, mourning, and Sophia had always loved it, especially paired with bright red lipstick. She wouldn't wear that, of course. For a start, she wasn't sure she had any.
"I want to go back now." It suddenly felt very oppressive that she was so close to where everything had happened. She wanted to leap up and run, put as much distance between herself and the damned barn as she could.
"You think you can stand now?" She wasn't sure.
"Maybe."
"Want a hand?" He looked like he expected her to decline. She didn't.
"Yes, please." Daryl stood and pulled her gently to her feet. Her head was still spinning a little but it stopped after a minute. She really didn't want to fall over. He rested his hand on her shoulder, more to show he'd catch her than to actually help. "Thank you."
"S'alright."
"No. It isn't."
She brushed her jeans off, suddenly very mobile again, moving jerkily as though standing still would force her back to the ground. She found her eyes wandering to where they should not be. Sophia had fallen facedown, and Juliet wondered for a moment if she had been able to feel anything. She knew it was stupid, it hadn't been Sophia anyway, just a shell that used to be her with something else inside it. Something that couldn't feel pain.
That didn't stop it from looking like her.
"Are they just going to throw her on the truck with the others?" She didn't mean to sound as resentful as she did.
"No. I'll take you back and then carry her up myself." Juliet knew that she should at least try to do that, but she could barely carry Sophia as it was, and episodes of CSI had taught her that bodies were heavier dead than alive.
The thought made her feel sick. She was already thinking of it as a body, not her sister. And as an 'it' rather than 'she'.
Maybe that was for the best.
When she tried to walk she wobbled a little, and with a worried look Daryl put an arm around her waist. She wanted to protest at being treated like a child, but she wasn't stupid, and she knew she was unlikely to make it back without toppling over if she didn't let him help her. Besides, it was Daryl. He'd seen her cry more since they met than anyone in her life had, she estimated. She didn't mind being weak around him, he never cared. She didn't have to prove herself.
"All my things are in Beth's room." She said, remembering with a sigh when she was halfway up the hill.
"We'll sneak in." Daryl said with a shrug.
"That's wrong."
"I don't give a shit, they let you stay in there, what went down ain't your fault. They can put up with you going in."
He left her at the back door with a promise to retrieve her in half an hour or so for the funeral. He had wanted to stay, but she'd told him just to go on his way. This earned an uneasy look, and several looks back as he walked away. She ran her hands through her hair and pressed her eyes shut tightly for a moment before she went in. She had honestly no clue how much time had passed between the massacre and now. She could have been there for days and she never would have noticed.
Juliet managed to get through the kitchen and up the stairs without anyone seeing her. It was only just outside Beth's room that she ran into Maggie, coming out.
"You usually knock." Maggie said. It wasn't accusatory in the least, but Juliet still felt like she might burst in to tears. It was probably just the shock of talking to another person. Maggie saw how her face fell, how desperately she was trying to hold it together and looked suddenly more sympathetic. "Come down, let's get you a glass of water."
Juliet felt like an eight year old who'd had a nightmare as Maggie took her hand and led her down the stairs. She started crying again once Maggie had sat her down and felt completely ridiculous about it.
"God, I'm sorry." She shook her head as she wiped the cloth Maggie had fetched her under her eyes. She knew she looked terrible. "I mean, you're holding it together." She knew Beth and Maggie had a brother in there. Maggie put an arm around her and squeezed her tightly.
This must be what having an older sister feels like.
"He was older. We knew he was in there. It's not the same at all." Her voice wavered in a way that made Juliet sceptical of everything she said.
"Maggie… You don't have to hold it together. Not around me, anyway."
And as suddenly as she had, Maggie fell apart too. Both of their crying was noiseless, pretty TV heroine crying, the kind that comes from people who have spent most of their lives being strong for the people around them and crying in to pillows if they have to at all, usually preferring just to suppress things that make them feel like this.
"Look at us both." Maggie said with a shake of her head and a forced smile. "So much for being the strongest two out of everyone."
"Were we ever?" Juliet had certainly never considered them to be, but then she wasn't aware the position was something that needed considered, or even something that existed. She wasn't sure who exactly she'd put up there.
"Probably not."
Juliet found herself honestly laughing. Tears kept rolling down from her eyes, but she barely noticed them.
"Shane would probably pay good money to see me like this. He'd say 'great, now we know she's actually a girl, she's not allowed to shoot anymore, she can watch us while she's cleaning our clothes'."
"Tell him to fuck off. I slapped him earlier, you know. I didn't do it hard enough. If he doesn't let up on you, send him my way and I'll show him just how much force girls can put behind a punch if they really hate someone. I'm just looking for another reason." Her voice was filled with venom. She sounded like someone who wanted him dead. "I still can't believe what he did today."
"Neither can I really." That was a lie. She could believe it, of course she could. It was Shane. He was becoming more unhinged by the day. "I am sorry though. Truly."
"It's not your fault. Not any of your people that joined in." Her mind was obviously on Glenn. "You were just doing what you had to." She wondered, of those capable with a gun, if any of them had refused to fight, conscientiously objected or whatever you'd call it now, whether he would have done them some serious harm now it was over. He certainly never would have forgotten or forgiven. "Some of your lot just need to wake up and see how dangerous he is." They both knew she meant Rick. She agreed. "Now… Why are you in here anyway?"
"I want to wear black to the funeral." It sounded stupid now, it had when she'd said it first. Daryl was only humouring her by relenting.
"So do I." Of course, they'd bury her step-mother, Beth's mother, and her brother.
It sounded less idiotic now.
"All my things are in Beth's room."
"I'll get whatever you want, you can change in my room. She's not doing too well, she'd up there with Patricia trying to calm her down a little. She's not even angry like I am, she's just exhausted." Juliet thought that if Hershel had just allowed her to grieve her family members when they had actually died like she should have then she might be taking it a little better. She wouldn't have had to watch all her family and friends come out of that barn and get shot by people she considered her friends. Juliet got up to leave but Maggie stayed sat. She gripped her hand over Juliet's to stop her moving. "We didn't know. Otis put them in the barn, not us, that was why Daddy and Rick weren't doing too good bringing them earlier. He must've done it before he died, before Carl was shot. I suppose after that it didn't matter as much."
"I believe you. I don't think you would have kept that from us." From me. Maggie shook her head.
"He thought they were people, but he wasn't like that. He was never going to just let you look and wonder until you all came around and thought the same, then present her to you. We would have said, let you do as you wanted with her if we had." Juliet nodded understandingly. "I'll get you your case out of her room now."
They walked up together. Maggie fetched her case and gave her a report on Beth. They changed together in silence, washed their faces side by side, brushed their hair and put on some of Maggie's make-up. Maggie said if they were up there looking down, she wanted to be presentable for their funeral. It had been a long time since Juliet put on make-up. It felt normal in the most unnerving way.
"We'll lie her next to Shaun." Maggie said as they made their way downstairs. Beth, Patricia, and Hershel were already out there apparently. "He'll look after her, wherever they are."
Maggie was a religious girl, brought up to believe good dead people, especially good dead children, got to go to heaven. Juliet said nothing, because she was not religious, and even if she was, she wasn't sure if walkers met the requirements for getting in to heaven. They couldn't exactly do good deeds and earn a place there like people were supposed to.
"That's kind of you."
Daryl was waiting for her, sat on the steps at the front of the house. Maggie gave her hand one last reassuring squeeze and went on ahead. He stood and looked at her for a long moment.
"Carol won't come."
For once, her mother had genuinely shocked Juliet. She tended not to expect much from her, she was difficult and their relationship was strained, but she could not honestly remember a time where she felt this upset and disgusted by her.
"It's her daughter." Juliet said, horrified, as though this were some great revelation.
"I said. And I said it would do you good to have you there – whatever you say." he added when she opened her mouth to protest. "She says that Sophia died a long time ago. She won't mourn a walker in her daughter's body."
"The operative part of that being 'her daughter's body'. God, that shouldn't even matter, what matters is putting her and this whole thing to rest, saying goodbye the way people are supposed to." Complaining about it, she realised, was doing nothing but bringing the tears back to her eyes again. She stopped herself; she was going to cry enough in a few minutes that bursting in to tears now seemed almost like unnecessary effort.
"I didn't know what to say to make her come with me."
They arrived at the side of the graves without another word. The three bodies they were burying were under blankets, set aside before the ceremony that she supposed wouldn't be all the ceremonious. It was obvious which one was Sophia, she was so much smaller than the other two.
She swore she could actually feel the colour draining from her face.
Juliet stood in a place beside Maggie, forcing Daryl in to the middle of the group. She knew he'd rather be on the edge, and if she was going to cry she probably would rather be too, watching from afar rather than being an active part. It was only that without her mother there, she longed for some kind of comforting, protective female presence. It was ridiculous, Carol wouldn't have even provided what she wanted.
Maggie took her hand. Daryl put an arm around her waist. Maggie squeezed her hand and she let go. Daryl did not.
She exchanged a look with Beth; neither of them changed the expressions they were wearing. Jimmy was clutching her like she might dive into the grave to be with her fallen family members. She was happy that she wasn't being held like that.
There was a silent understanding between the group that it should be she and Daryl who lowered Sophia's body. Sophia was the last to be buried. Juliet didn't want to do it. She thought she felt an obligatory willingness to do it, that was to say, she wouldn't have anyone else do it instead of her. She lifted the blanket from her head before she lifted her. She remained oddly composed. The body under there looked nothing like her sister, with greying, stretched skin, empty eyes and a twisted expression. It barely even looked like it had been human once. It was oddly calming. Perhaps it would have been worse to see her dead if she looked like she was at peace. It certainly would have been worse to see her as a newly turned walker, anything closely resembling her old self. She pressed her eyes shut for a moment before breathing out slowly.
"I've got this." she whispered, looking at Daryl in answer to the question he hadn't asked her. He nodded and she gently pushed down her sister's eyelids before replacing the blanket and picking her up.
They took her slowly to the grave that was too big for her.
As Juliet lowered her the blanket came up a little, and her bare arm touched the open wound on Sophia's neck. The one that had killed her, the one with old, crusted blood over it. She almost dropped her when she felt it.
They lay her down gently and returned to stand with the others. As they had with both of the others, it was Rick and Glenn who, as respectfully as they could, shovelled the dirt on top of it. She looked as they covered her and swallowed the dry lump forming in her throat. She felt like she should do something, scream, run off perhaps, at the very least look away from what was upsetting her. In the end she stayed frozen again, unable to shift her gaze.
When she returned to her place amongst the others she could feel the heat beating down on her from the late afternoon sun, but inside she felt like ice.
Because she didn't have this under control. Not at all. She felt like a dropped glass, shattered over the kitchen floor with no hope of repair.
Everyone stood in the line. Nobody was entirely sure whether they should speak or leave, or when was appropriate to do so. For a moment Juliet fought the childish urge to giggle. She wasn't amused, not in the slightest, but she always felt she was about to laugh in situations where everyone was overly solemn. They should all have been in black, not just her and Maggie, she thought. Mind, everyone else probably thought she was trying too hard to hold on to old customs.
Then people started to move towards her, and the Greene family. She realised that they were imitating, consciously or unconsciously, the practice at a wake, the family lined up being greeted by guests who all express their deepest condolences and pretend to have known whoever died better than they really did. She'd been in the line at her Aunt Rosie's funeral and excused herself halfway through the procession to throw up in the bathrooms and come back with a smile and not allowed anyone to be wise to what had happened.
Juliet felt much the same now.
"Excuse me, please." she said loudly before anyone could say a thing to her. She walked away for a moment, not wanting to look ridiculous, but she couldn't help the run she broke out in to. It was her first instinct, running away from emotion and trouble. It was her second to go to the woods here when she was leaving the farm, and that was exactly where she found herself running.
She could hear muffled sobs coming from beside a brook as she got close, and she slowed and considered running back. The only person not accounted for at the funeral was the one she least wanted to see, for now at least.
"That's a nice dress." Carol said softly to her, and she realised she'd already been seen. Her mother was sat on the ground with torn up bushes around her. Juliet knew better than to ask.
"You should have come to the funeral." Juliet told her, immediately deciding to cut the bullshit.
"You had a dress like that when you were little." Carol was obviously trying to avoid the conversation altogether, and Juliet simply wasn't going to allow that to happen. It was too important; she was too angry about it.
"She was your daughter." Carol looked irritated by the word 'was'.
"Of course, the part at the top was looser and the buttons were pink. You wore it to cousin Maria's wedding."
"Is there something that wrong with you that you won't even talk to me about this?" Once again she was on the verge of tears. Maybe if she actually cried, Carol would see that this was something genuinely important to her, not just something she was making into a big deal so that she could fight with her and relieve some tension.
"Are you wearing make-up? You look pretty."
Juliet realised that she was trying to work her up so much that she would simply march away and leave the issue alone. Juliet refused to give in to that now she knew what was happening.
"Even Daryl thought you were being cold by not going. Your own daughter. The only one you actually liked." Carol stayed silent. Juliet was glad she did, if she hadn't, if she had protested like a normal mother would, she wouldn't have appreciated the lie. "I needed you there."
Carol
Carol stared her down for a long time, as if she was going through every possible explanation for why she had said that. The fact that it might be the truth never even crossed her mind until she saw that Juliet looked like she might unravel completely in front of her. It struck a motherly chord in her that Juliet so often did, though this time her eldest daughter – though she supposed only now – seemed to not only want but need her to act on it.
It was the first time Juliet had ever said she needed her.
So Carol stood and pulled her towards her and held her in her arms for what seemed like a long time before Juliet realised what was happening and put her arms around her too.
"I'm so sorry." Carol whispered to her. They both knew there was more weight behind her words than a simple apology for her not attending the funeral, and they both knew full well that anything else didn't matter now. This was a silent understanding between them that they had only each other now. "We're going to be okay."
"I tried so hard. I really did. But she was in there the whole time. Forgive me."
"Juliet, sweetheart, I know you did. None of this is your fault, it's not anybody's. It's just a horrible thing that's happened." To put it mildly, at least. In truer, harsher terms, it was the worst thing to happen to either of them in their lives, to lose her so young, especially Juliet who had worked so hard to keep her safe, not just through the apocalypse but for her whole life. Carol would never be able to make herself say the words expressing how grateful she was for that. "You couldn't have done anything else." Carol let her go, and was sorry to do so.
"Is it better to know what happened, for you?"
Carol mused over this for a few seconds before she replied. On the one hand, this was the only way they would get over and mourn their poor little girl, and it provided some peace of mind for the group that they weren't still searching for a girl who had been fifty feet away the whole time. She knew her daughter hadn't been scared, lonely, hungry. She was dead and at rest. On the other, not knowing left that little glimmer of hope, the one that said Juliet and Daryl would have come out of the forest one of those days, carrying her, starving, terrified, but alive, and Carol could have held her again and promised sobbing that she would never let harm befall her again. She would have made Juliet teach her to shoot, gotten Sophia to learn as well, and she never would have let her youngest girl out of her sight.
"I honestly don't know." she answered softly.
"No. Nor do I."
"What are you doing out here?" Carol asked her after a little while of silence. Juliet shook her head. Her eyes, Carol noticed, kept wandering to Carol's arms, and she couldn't think why.
"I was being stupid, they were all lining up like at a wake to talk to me and I just thought 'I cannot physically make it through this without being sick'. So I left and just started running. I think I might go for a walk. Clear my head. You can come if you'd like." Carol knew the offer, despite the obvious ceasefire between them, was an empty one. Juliet did not like to be emotional around other people.
"I'll let you go on your own. I need to get back and I can tell everyone where you are so they don't send out a search party."
"No, we can't have that. I'll be back before dark." It was unlikely, and they both knew it. She'd most likely find somewhere to hole up for the night and cry herself to sleep where no-one could see her. In the morning she'd come back in the same dress with a forced smile and a 'sorry, I fell asleep, I found this adorable little house and the couch was just too inviting… I hope I didn't worry anyone'.
Carol kissed the top of her head before she started walking back. It was only on her way that her arms began to hurt and she realised that she had badly cut herself on the plants she had torn up in her fit of rage. Those bushes with the roses Daryl had shown her were just too much for her to bear looking at, reminding her of all she might have had if what had once been her daughter hadn't come out of the barn.
She'd have to thank him later. Not just for all he'd done over the past weeks, but for holding her back, because honestly, running to Sophia then would have been suicide, and in that moment, she probably wouldn't have minded getting bitten. She knew he would have rather stayed and comforted Juliet, but she appreciated that he had sacrificed holding her hand through it so she hadn't done something incredibly stupid. She'd tell him where Juliet had gone and hoped that he might follow her out and check on her, though she doubted he'd do something so invasive.
Carol only realised when Shane said her name that she'd been walking back to camp in a total trance. He took her to sit somewhere and fetched some clean water for her wounds. He was surprisingly gentle.
"I want you to know that I'm real sorry for your girl." Shane told her softly, cleaning one of the cuts she had given herself. He seemed genuine in what he said, and she knew he was. He had no reason to wish ill to Sophia, he never had. All he'd wanted was to finish the search, and now she knew he'd been right to do so.
"Thank you." There weren't many other response.
"When I opened that barn I had no idea. If I did… Everybody thinks that I'm a…" He didn't seem to be able to finish any of these thoughts. Carol could have filled the open space in the latter with a variety of colourful adjectives, but in the end, he was the only one here helping her now and that was cruel to think even if he wasn't. "I was just trying to keep everybody safe. I had no idea she was in there."
"There was no way you could have. If you did… I think even you might have been gentler about it then." She managed a wan smile in his direction, which he returned.
"Of course. I was just… I needed them gone. Hell, I know it was drastic, but I think it had to be, 'specially after seeing Rick bringing those walkers back with the old man, bringing more danger into this place. I don't know if we're staying here, but while we are I will keep you all safe, even if that means making decisions that people are going to hate me for." Juliet would tell him to be more tactful about them in future, and she decided in her absence that she would instead.
"Shane, you did the right thing in the wrong way. Be reasonable about putting ideas to the group, let us vote. Most of us, myself included, we would have said yes to clearing the barn. We all knew it was dangerous, to hell with whether it was our land or not."
"I'll bear that in mind." She knew he wouldn't, or if he did he'd be too worked up next time to take heed of her advice, but she was glad she said it.
"Hey, you seen Daryl? I wanted to tell him Juliet was out walking the forest by herself."
"By herself? That doesn't seem… I mean, I hope she had the good sense to load her gun."
"She didn't have a gun, she had a little knife with her. She'll be quiet, climb a tree if things get out of hand. But, yeah… I wanted to tell him, see if he wanted to go after her. I doubt he will, but I thought he should know."
"Why?"
"They're close, you know that."
"Man, if I was you… I would tell that girl to steer well clear of him. Last I saw of him he was moving his stuff away from ours, he doesn't want to be part of us anymore. He's just going to upset her more right now, he's not in a good way since she ran off from the funeral." She thought he would have been harsher than that. She was sure he was just dulling his hatred of Daryl because he knew she was grateful to him for looking for Sophia.
"She makes her own decisions."
"This friendship or crush or whatever it is she has going on with him… It's a bad one."
"You should tell her that, see how she takes it." Actually, probably better than if it came from Carol, even with their silently agreed truce.
"I might just."