A/N: Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. Guess I must be doing something right.
Apologies for the cheesy chapter title, but once it sprang into my head I just couldn't resist.
Disclaimer: The Walking Dead is not my creation. This story is, but not the show or the graphic novels. Got it?
Daryl stepped out of the men's room a few minutes after Lia, fully dressed with his hunting knife returned to its sheath where it belonged. He had little memory of shuffling over to the waiting sleeping bag and more or less passing out on it. Not even the storm's renewed fury could rouse him from his fever-induced slumber. Nor was he aware of the old woman, Nana, kneeling beside him some hours later and placing her small, cool hand on his sweaty brow.
Nana frowned in concern. "I think his fever might be getting worse."
"He definitely looks worse," Lia remarked.
Dale, seated a short distance away on one of the lobby's sofas, cleared his throat with a chagrined look. "He, uh, didn't get any of the aspirin."
"Why not?" Nana asked.
The old man shrugged. "Well, he didn't let on that he was all that sick. Plus, when he ran off to his truck he made it pretty clear he'd rather be left alone."
Nana pursed her lips. "Well, he should certainly take some now. Poor thing's burning up."
"'Poor thing'?" Lori, seated next to her slumbering husband, echoed incredulously, "You forget what he called you a while ago?"
The older woman shrugged. "I've had worse things said and done to me over the years. I'm long past the point of holding grudges over every slight." She nodded thanks as Lia brought her a couple of aspirins and a glass of water. She managed to rouse Daryl enough to take the pills and swallow some water, then he promptly dropped off again. Nana drew an extra blanket over him. The newcomers watched this caring gesture with bewildered looks.
Seeing their expressions, Lia felt a sudden pity for Daryl. Though he traveled with them, faced the same dangers with them, he was not part of the group. How much of this was his own doing she couldn't say, but she wondered if he'd forsaken the RV for his pickup because loneliness was more bearable in isolation than in a crowd.
"I take it he's not any better once you get to know him?"
Lori pursed her lips as she considered her response. "He's dependable when it comes to hunting or fighting off walkers. I've never seen him miss with that crossbow of his. And he always brings back something from his hunts, even if it's just squirrels."
"He doesn't keep it all to himself, either," Dale added, "He shares the meat with everybody."
"So he's useful, but not likeable," Lia concluded.
The others nodded.
"Not half as much trouble as his brother was, though. I'll give him that," Lori said.
Lia's brow furrowed in a question mark. "His brother?"
"His older brother, Merle," Dale explained, "Went off with Glenn and some of the others on a scavenging trip into Atlanta. Never made it back."
Lia could tell there was something Dale wasn't telling her. He and Lori both looked down as if ashamed, but she decided not to pry. The world was filled with tragic stories since the dead rose up.
Carl and Sophia were the most readily welcomed of the newcomers. They and the dozens of other kids were all thrilled at the prospect of new playmates, and soon Carl and Sophia were swamped with offers to join in different games. At the moment, Carl and some of the boys and more active girls were engaged in a game of hacky-sack, while Sophia joined some girls in a clapping game. Carol smiled at her daughter's evident happiness. She couldn't remember the last time Sophia had the chance to be so carefree. No need to worry about walkers or starvation in this place. Here they were sheltered and fed, and no one was trying to kill them.
Carol smiled as Lia approached her.
"How're you doing?" the exotic woman asked.
"We're doing good, thanks to you."
Lia glanced away, uncomfortable with the praise. She pulled up an empty chair next to Carol's and sat. "The little girl's your daughter?"
"Yeah. Sophia. I'm Carol." She held out her hand and Lia shook it. "So, are you and..." she indicated the old woman some distance behind them.
"Nana Shino," Lia said, "Or just Nana."
"Are you and Nana the only adults here?"
"Yep." Lia smiled at the woman's sympathetic look.
"I don't know how you do it. I have a hard enough time just raising one child."
"Definitely can't say it's easy," Lia chuckled, "But the older kids help out a lot. Pretty much all of them contribute in some way, even if it's just fetching things or passing along messages."
"Are any of them yours?"
"They're all mine," she smiled, "But no, I'm not related to any of them. To be honest, before all this happened, I never even wanted children. Just didn't see the appeal. But I couldn't leave 'em all out there to fend for themselves."
"How did you find them all?" Carol asked.
"Well, it's not like I went out looking for them. Most of them came to us, me and Nana. Others we sorta stumbled upon while out scavenging for supplies. You'd be amazed how feral some of 'em were, living like rats in whatever nooks and crannies they could squeeze into, eating scraps." She shook her head in dismay. "Just a month alone, scratching by, and they all but forgot they were even human."
"They're okay now, though."
"Yeah, well. We still got more than our fair share of nightmares."
Carol uttered a tell-me-about-it grunt.
Lia leaned back in her seat, rolling the kinks from her shoulders. "Nana's the one who really got all this started, though."
"Oh?" Carol raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah. Me and Sally," she pointed to where the toddler was busy stacking colorful blocks, "we were out looking for some food when I heard this noise way off in the distance. I knew whatever it was would be drawing a mob of walkers, but my curiosity got the better of me. I put Sally in a carrier on my back and went to investigate." Lia suddenly laughed. "And I saw this...this tiny, frail-looking old lady using a chainsaw to hack through a downed tree. That's how I first laid eyes on Nana Shino, wielding a chainsaw like she did that kinda thing everyday. She had a handful of kids with her armed with bats and metal pipes to hold off the walkers that were already there. I wound up helping 'em out. Turns out one of the kids got trapped inside this little windowless store when the tree fell over and blocked the only door. I couldn't believe how fast Nana cut through that tree. She never lost her cool the whole time. She got the kid out and we all got away before the walkers could overwhelm us."
Carol laughed and shook her head. "That's amazing!"
Lia grinned, nodded. "Nana's an amazing person."
"You all are. All of this," Carol indicated their surroundings with a sweep of her arm, "It's a miracle how you've all survived and actually made something here. Makes me think we might make it, after all."
Lia shrugged. "I dunno about that. I mostly just wanna make sure these kids have a chance at some stability. Life's gotten way too uncertain these past months."
A child called Lia's name. She sighed. "Duty calls." She rose from her seat and looked down at Carol. "Thanks for the chat. Been a while since I had a conversation with another adult, besides Nana."
Carol smiled. "Glad I could do that much for you."
The voice called out again, sounding impatient. Lia rolled her eyes and went to avert yet another minor disaster.
The first thing he was aware of was daylight across his eyelids. The second thing was a cool, damp cloth being placed over his forehead. That, and the sound of a woman's faint humming, took Daryl back to when he was a small boy, sick in bed, and his mother tended him in her usual loving way. Back before she died. Daryl could see her at his bedside, smiling down at him as she hummed a soothing lullaby, a fresh bruise peeking out from the collar of her blouse. No matter how many times Daryl's old man whaled on her, she never lost her sweetness. Never took her sorrows out on her two boys.
"Finally waking up?" her soft voice asked him.
Mama... His eyelids felt glued shut. It took effort to open them, and when he did, everything was blurred. As his vision gradually cleared, the figure leaning over him resolved, not into the ghost of his mother, but the old woman he recalled from yesterday. Daryl's face changed from hopefulness to disappointment, then to its usual belligerent expression.
Nana smiled, ignoring his hostile look. "We were getting concerned. You've been out an entire day and night. What little water we got you to swallow was sweated right back out. Thankfully, your fever broke a couple of hours ago. How do you feel?"
"Like shit." If he thought his language would shock her, he was disappointed.
Nana rose from her kneeling position beside him. "You relax, now. I'll go heat you up some soup."
Daryl frowned at the old woman's retreating back, puzzled by her thoughtfulness. He took in his surroundings. The lobby was mostly empty. He could hear the sounds of children playing outside, the sunlight in the windows indicating the storm had long passed. The only other occupants were a pair of identical twin black girls assembling a jigsaw puzzle at a square coffee table, chattering quietly to each other, and an auburn-haired, freckled boy curled up in a beanbag chair reading from a dogeared comic. All of the kids put some distance between themselves and Daryl. They were probably warned about him. As if he wanted anything to do with those snot-nosed brats.
A prickly sensation at the back of his head let Daryl know he was being watched. He turned his head to confront whoever stared at him and found himself looking at a tiny girl, no more than two years old. Her olive skin and dark hair meant she was probably Italian or Hispanic, or maybe one of those mixed-race kids that'd been cropping up more and more in recent years. Her black hair was tied up in a topknot, its wispy texture giving it the look of a feather duster. She stared at him with solemn black eyes, one thumb stuck firmly in her mouth.
Daryl narrowed his eyes at her. "What're you starin' at?"
The toddler blinked, but didn't respond. Daryl glared at her for a long moment, then abruptly stuck out his tongue. The child grinned, a thin line of drool falling from her lower lip.
A soft tread brought Daryl's attention back to Nana, who returned with a steaming mug in her hand. The smell of the soup made Daryl aware of how hungry he was. Sitting up proved a struggle; the illness had left him weak and shaky. He removed the damp cloth from his forehead and set it aside, then accepted the mug from the old woman, blowing gingerly before taking a sip.
"Chicken soup," Nana said with a shrug, "I figured if I'm going to give a sick person soup, I might as well go with a classic."
The soup felt good warming up his stomach. He was beginning to feel more like himself. He glanced at the toddler, who continued to watch him a few feet away. "She's quiet fer a kid that little."
"Sally hasn't made a sound since Lia found her," Nana replied, "Not even when she has nightmares."
"She a mute?"
"No. She simply learned that silence means survival."
Daryl had a vision of the little girl alone in a city infested with the walking dead. How could anything so tiny and helpless survive that hell?
He finished the soup and handed back the mug. Something occurred to him. "Thought that half-breed said we was s'posed t' be gone by now."
The corner of Nana's mouth quirked. "She prefers to be called Lia. And yes, she did intend for you all to leave, but what with your illness taking a turn for the worst, she decided to give you and the rest of your group more time to recuperate." She sat back on her heels, her almond-shaped eyes appraising him. "You feel up to getting out of bed? I can heat up some water for you to wash up."
Daryl had to admit (privately) that the hours of sweating from his fever did leave him smelling pretty rank. At this point even a lukewarm bath sounded pretty good. "Alright."
"Okay. Take your time. It'll be a while before the water's ready." Nana stood, held a hand out to the toddler. "Sally? Do you want to come along?"
The child seemed to consider, then went over to take the old woman's proffered hand. The two of them headed for the kitchen together, leaving Daryl to gather his strength.
It was almost like a holiday. Lia told the kids to put aside most of their chores and have fun, while the adults experienced the novelty of sitting out in the mild weather doing nothing but relax. Those that had been sick were already much improved, their fevers gone and skins returned to a more normal hue. While they couldn't quite bring themselves to consider this a haven - not after that bad experience at the CDC lab - they did feel safer than they had in a long while.
Rick, lounging in one of the cushioned chairs that was dragged outside, squinted up at the roof where he glimpsed the silhouette of one of the lookouts. He made out the crown of the child's head and the curve of the upper half of his bow. He turned to Lia, who stood nearby watching the kids at play. "What made you consider bows 'n' arrows over guns?"
The woman smirked. "I'd like to say it was cleverness, but the truth is all the places I checked for guns were cleaned out in the panics. Sporting goods stores, pawn shops, you name it. All that was left were knives and hunting bows. So I picked up the first bow that didn't totally intimidate me and spent the next week practicing with it. Turns out I have a knack for archery," she chuckled.
"Then you taught all the kids later."
"Yep. There's actually quite a few advantages to bows over guns. They're quiet, lightweight, and the ammo's much easier to replace. You can make more arrows, if you have to."
Rick thought about his people's guns with their dwindling supply of ammo. About how they didn't dare use them except as a last resort, for fear of drawing the dead with their noise. Clubs were all well and good, but they required getting close and risking infection from the geeks' bites. "Might hafta keep that in mind," Rick mused.
They turned at the sound of the door opening to see Daryl step out, washed and dressed in clean clothes. His face still looked drawn and wan, but his eyes were no longer glassy and he walked with increasing confidence.
"Good t' see you up 'n' around," Rick greeted.
Daryl responded with a noncommittal grunt. He took in the gaggles of kids running around. Dale and Andrea sat together a short ways off, chatting amiably. Shane, Glenn, and T-Dog played kickball with a group of kids. Carl and a couple of boys enacted battles with a mixed bunch of action figures. Carol and Lori spun a couple of jump ropes while Sophia and some other girls took turns at double Dutch, chanting a silly rhyme Daryl recalled from his own childhood:
"Three, six, nine
The goose drank wine
The monkey chewed tobacco on the telephone line
The line, it broke
The goose got choked
And they all went to heaven in a little rowboat."
It all felt surreal, this little pocket of normalcy in the midst of the apocalypse.
"We stayin' here much longer?"
"You in a hurry to leave?" Rick asked.
Daryl scuffed his shoe against the pavement. "Don't see any point stickin' around."
Rick shifted to a more comfortable position in his seat. "Well, Lori 'n' Shane ganged up on me earlier. Said I need at least a couple more days rest."
"You should take it easy, too," Lia advised.
"Mind yer own business," Daryl grumbled, "I'm fine."
Lia and Rick looked at each other with the same resigned expressions.
Nana Shino came outside carrying Sally. The little girl grinned and waved. As they drew nearer, Lia surprised to realize the child was waving at Daryl. She saw his features soften just the tiniest bit, though he offered no response to Sally's friendliness. Lia stifled a smile of her own; apparently Sally's sweet nature could win over anybody, including foul-mouthed redneck bigots.
She held her arms out. "C'mere, you."
Nana passed the toddler over to her.
Lia settled the child on her lap. "Have you been behaving yourself? Hmm?"
Sally nodded, topknot bobbing comically. Lia laughed and planted a kiss on the girl's forehead. From the corner of her eye she watched as Daryl walked to the building and slowly lowered himself until he sat with his back against the wall, knees drawn up with forearms resting on them, head tilted back and eyes closed. Lia found herself casting surreptitious glances his way while she continued to chat with Rick and Nana. She wondered what it was about the guy that held her attention. He wasn't particularly handsome, and even if he was it wouldn't make up for his abrasive personality. By all rights, she should have hated him for the things he'd called her and Nana, but for some strange reason she just couldn't stay angry with him. Perhaps the end of the world had taught her to save her energies for the life and death stuff and let everything else slide. That's all she could think of to explain it. Nothing else made sense.
Daryl felt her eyes on him, even though he pretended not to notice. It bothered him that he did notice. It bothered him that she and the old lady acted like none of the harsh things he said even mattered to them. The old lady had nursed him back to health, and the woman talked to him without the faintest hint of scorn - something he'd come to expect from people who spent more than a few minutes around him.
Maybe they just didn't give a damn one way or the other. Maybe they were too caught up in keeping all these kids in line to waste time getting their dander up over a few insults. Daryl was pretty sure that was it. It was the only explanation that made sense.