A/N: I had a bit of trouble figuring out where I wanted this to go. I deleted this chapter more than once and started from scratch in the course of figuring out what the next part of the story should be. Now, thankfully, I've figured it out. This chapter's going to be a tad short, but you won't have to wait long for the next posting.
In regards to the previous chapter, I'm afraid I can't take credit for Glenn having a crush on Carol. I read somewhere that Glenn in the comic books had a thing for her and thought, "Huh, interesting." So I thought I'd include that little tidbit in my fanfic. If I admit it's not mine it's not plagiarism, its paying homage! ;-)
Disclaimer: Don't own it, never will.
Living with other people was hard for Daryl. At least when it was mostly just kids he didn't have to deal with the strange preconceived notions adults brought. But now that Rick Grimes's merry little band of survivors had returned, the old pressures resurfaced, and they only seemed to get worse the more time passed. There were moments when Daryl could feel their eyes full of judgment boring into him. Could sense their resentment over his staying behind in the first place while they went out ill-prepared for what the world had in store for them. Sure, they were relieved to have someone like him around to make life in this apocalypse easier for them, but if it were up to them he would've been locked away in some storage closet when they didn't need him to hunt or put down walkers. And none of them thought he was good enough for Lia.
Daryl started spending more and more time out on his own. He ignored the discomfort of winter and spent the majority of the daylight hours in the woods. No one was certain what all he did out there. Sometimes he returned with a sackful of small game either caught in his snares or felled by his crossbow. Once he came back with a deer slung across his shoulders à la Errol Flynn in The Adventures of Robin Hood. The deer was thin from the harsh season, but nobody was going to quibble over so much meat, even if it was a bit stringy.
If Daryl's long absences bothered Lia, she hid it well. She continued to keep busy taking care of the children, studying her books, and making plans for the future. In many ways, it was like her life had reverted to the months before Daryl came. The only difference was at night when the two of them crawled under the blankets together. Lia would tell him about what all had happened while he was gone, or wouldn't speak at all, but simply snuggled close to him. She always seemed to know when he wasn't in the mood for conversation, when he needed his space, and when he wanted to hold her as close as possible.
The others were right, she was too good for him. That thought, niggling at the back of his mind, prompted an age-old emotion to rear its ugly head. It whispered dark suspicions whenever he saw her talk to rick, laugh and joke with Glenn and T-Dog, or chat companionably with Shane, whose recovery had progressed to the point that he could get out of bed and walk around the building, provided he used crutches and took plenty of breaks. Marilyn was always at his side, though Daryl barely noticed, tunnel-visioned as he was. His eyes did not acknowledge the casual touches between the former sheriff's deputy and the young woman, didn't see the long glances and shared smiles.
What Daryl did see was Shane's handsome features filling out with renewed health, the winning smile he flashed at Lia during their conversations, and how easily he made her laugh. Daryl told himself he was being stupid. She loved him. She said she loved him, and Lia wouldn't lie about that. But part of him just couldn't let himself believe it.
Yer a useless sack o' shit, the memory of his old man's voice snarled drunkenly, Even if y' had a wad o' cash big 'round as my dick, yuh'd be lucky t' get a nigger crack whore t' fuck ya. Yer wastin' yer time eyeballin' them uppity bitches. They wouldn't look at ya t' spit on ya!
Every day for as long as he could remember, Daryl heard the same tirades. Even Merle shouted them at him when a few snorts of coke put him in an extra-cruel frame of mind. No one could shrug off a lifetime of such indoctrination.
"Momentous occasion today, folks!" Dale announced in his jaunty voice, "Shane's going to walk all the way across the lobby on his own. No crutches and no helping hands."
Everyone who was gathered in the lobby - meaning nearly everyone - cheered with enthusiasm. Nana pretended to dab a tear from her eye. "They grow up so fast." Scattered laughter.
Shane rolled his eyes in feigned annoyance and got up from his seat. He handed his cane - which he'd graduated to the previous week - to Marilyn, who leaned in to kiss his cheek and whisper good luck. Shane smiled at her, then turned his attention to his goal, the far side of the old office building's lobby. He took it slow. Last thing he wanted was to tire himself out halfway there and land on his face in front of everyone. Nana's joke wasn't too far off the mark, he felt as weak as an infant. It was a condition that would've driven him insane if it hadn't meant that Marilyn had an excuse to stay close to him day after day. Shane couldn't remember the last time he had a relationship with a woman that didn't start out as purely sexual. Once the talking started, he would then rapidly lose interest. Mainly because those women were complete bimbos. Marilyn was different. Not only was she compassionate, but once Shane coaxed her out of her shyness, she proved to be an intelligent young lady with a great sense of humor. Shane bet when there was still electricity she knew to turn the lights out when she left a room.
They'd shared everything about themselves during their long talks, good and bad. Shane knew what those whack-job cannibals had put Marilyn through, what she'd done in order to survive. Knowing this only gave him greater incentive to get well. Shane wanted to regain his strength so he could show her how a woman should be treated by a man. He wanted to help her cast aside the bad memories and create a happier present. He wanted to show her how beautiful she really was. All this hubbub over him walking the length of the building's largest room was silly, but it also brought him that much closer to doing all those things.
His audience lined up to either side like a human corridor, calling out encouragement. Shane saw Rick, Lori, and Carl standing together, cheering him on with everyone else. Shane smiled. Things were better between them since Rick had his talks with him and Lori. The guilt no longer eroded their minds now that the secret was out. Strange, what a relief it was just knowing Rick knew. There was nothing left to hide and no point in carrying grudges. They could acknowledge everything that happened and move on, which is what they did.
Shane winked at Carl, whose health had improved drastically since coming back to this place. The boy grinned and continued to root for his honorary uncle.
Lia darted out in his path, moving both hands in a beckoning gesture as she backed up in time to his cautious steps. Shane couldn't help but laugh at this. It was good to see her shed her usual seriousness and do something silly.
"C'mon, kiddo! You can do it!" she cheered.
"'Kiddo'?" he scoffed, "You're, like, two years younger 'n me."
Lia halted and frowned in suspicion. "Who told you my age? Agh!" She staggered as Shane suddenly threw his arms around her and let himself slump against her. He'd lost a lot of weight during his recovery, but he was still a big man.
"Made it!" he grinned.
Lia chuckled, "And you got to cop a feel. Bonus."
"What can I say," he waggled his eyebrows, "You're just so darn irresistible."
Lia and those close enough to hear their banter laughed.
Then Shane was yanked away without warning and shoved away. He stumbled back and would have landed on his ass had Lori and Rick not been there to catch him. The entire lobby fell into shocked silence as all eyes stared at Daryl glowering thunderously at Shane.
"Daryl! What the hell!" Lia exclaimed.
"Needs t' learn how t' keep his damn hands to hisself," Daryl growled.
"We were just foolin' around, man," Shane retorted in obvious exasperation, "It was nothing."
"Don't look like nuthin' t' me."
Andrea lost patience with him and spoke up, "For god's sake, Daryl! We were all having a good time 'til you decided to act like some jealous caveman."
He turned his deadly scowl on her and pointed a warning finger. "Mind yer own damn business."
"You're makin' it hers and everybody else's business by throwin' this fit of yours 'n' ruining a good time," Shane snapped, "Christ, man. Can't you for once not screw everything up?"
"Shut the hell up!" Daryl lunged at him, but found himself blocked by T-Dog and Dale. A frightened Marilyn rushed over to Shane, who put a comforting arm around her. Daryl struggled against the two men, shouting abuse at them and Shane and everyone who was there to witness his outburst.
Months of experience dealing with traumatized kids prone to fits of anger prompted Lia to move in front of him and place her hands against the sides of his head, forcing him to meet her gaze. "Daryl," she said in a level tone, "Stop it. Look at me. Stop this now."
Some of the rage drained from his eyes and they focused on her. He was still angry, but he wasn't out of control. He shook himself loose from Dale's and T-Dog's grasp and glared at her. Lia's expression softened. "There's nothing going on between me and Shane."
"Like hell." He stormed past her and went upstairs, returning moments later with his heavy coat on and his crossbow slung over his shoulder.. No one said a word or got in his way as he stomped over to the door and stepped out into the cold afternoon. The door slammed shut behind him. Everyone shuffled and exchanged awkward glances. The lighthearted mood of a few minutes ago was well and truly wrecked.
Lia sighed and ran her fingers through her braids. Even though she knew it was irrational, she couldn't help but think this was somehow her fault. She'd known that Daryl's mood was getting gloomier lately, but couldn't get him to talk about it. She tried everything she could think of to cheer him up before finally deciding to just back off and let him work it out on his own. Now she realized she should have been more persistent.
"You okay?" Rick asked his friend.
Shane nodded, "Yeah, fine. Nothin' bruised but my pride."
"Your pride's bullet-proof," Lori joked, though she looked concerned all the same.
Marilyn rested her head on his shoulder. "You heard him. He's fine."
Shane smiled. He knew she wasn't just saying that to make him feel better. She was confident in his word.
"Well," T-Dog said, "Shane walked on his own and almost got in a smackdown. Sounds like he's on the road to recovery t' me."
The mood visibly lightened and a few individuals even laughed. The room started to fill with cheerful murmurs as everyone shook off the near-incident. Everyone but Lia. She stared at the door Daryl had disappeared through. She wanted to go after him, but knew he would just rebuff her. Best to give him a chance to cool off, she decided. They could talk about what happened when he got back.
A tug on her sleeve brought her back to the present. She smiled as one of the kids handed her a can of pudding. Lia hadn't even realized they still made canned pudding until one of the scavenger groups found a crate of them tucked away in the back of a store. She accepted the can and a plastic spoon with a nod of thanks, then lifted the pull-tab and peeled away the lid. Chocolate. She licked the traces off the lid and dipped her spoon into the sweet substance. The rare treat helped her ignore her worry for the moment. A little.
Nightfall. Daryl didn't come back.