Thank you, as always, for the reviews. While few, they serve their purpose. Pure, uncensored, inspiration. Which is an awesome feeling. But nerve-wracking as well because it feels like the more interest I pick up in a story, the harder it is to write since there's an audience that could be displeased with where the story is headed. But I've learned many stories ago that you can't please everyone and either you like what I write, or you don't. Simple as that. But to the reviewer who said they wouldn't mind bunking down with Daryl, I know what you mean *insert winky face*. Although, our bunking would hardly be appropriate *insert another winky face*. Thank goodness I have Paige to balance me out. Enjoy!
Chapter 4 - Turtle Soup
Paige must have been staring at the tent roof for twenty minutes straight before finally accepting that sleep wouldn't come to her. No matter how utterly exhausted her body felt or how little energy sat stored inside her bones, the ability to dive into slumber remained an elusive quest.
So, she took to listening to the storm brewing outside the tent flaps.
Not even an hour after Daryl invited her to bunk down with him, the wind unexpectedly picked up, speeding through the leaves, plucking them off like berries from a bush and sending enigmatic whistles through the night. And in the distance, thunder rolled through the dark sky, bringing the promise of rain and lightning.
She refrained from asking Daryl what would happen if the ground flooded or their tent got struck by lightning. The man in general seemed to be in a foul mood, only gesturing with a hand to the pile of blankets on the ground for her before moving to the opposite side of the tent and getting situated with his own.
Then, he'd simply flipped his body on his side, back toward her, and stayed quiet.
The last thing she wanted was to anger him, so she followed relatively the same pattern.
Trouble was, while her body lay dormant, her mind ran like a never ending marathon. Buzzing, pondering, and hyped up from finally attaining food. Good food, at that.
Any other person from the group, with the exception of Lori who just didn't sit right with her, she'd have started up a conversation with.
But Daryl...well, he was Daryl. And Paige just had to observe the group's reaction to him to know that the man stayed brutally silent on normal occasions.
So, in her head, she labeled him the outcast. The odd one out.
Nothing wrong with that. Lord knows I've had my share of experiences in that category.
Ten minutes passed by, each second being silently counted by Paige, and yet the time failed to make any sort of drowsiness possible.
And to think people recommend counting sheep. Christ, that'll make you insane before sleep even hits you.
An idea struck in the midst of this restlessness and with a quick glance at Daryl's stiff form, Paige slowly lifted herself up, eyes finding the tent flap through the dimness of the shelter.
One hand moved away the blankets on her lap and with a held breath, she positioned herself to crawl forward.
"What're you doin'?"
Tensing up, Paige shot a glance behind her.
Daryl still laid in the same position, eyes trailed to the opposite of the tent.
And yet, his senses were unnaturally keen.
"Going to find Glenn," she reasoned. "I want to talk and he treated me like I wasn't the plague. Plus, my brain is refusing to stay still."
"He don't need you distractin' him," came the retort.
Frowning, Paige scanned the tent flap once more.
"I get I've put you in an awkward position," she stated after a calm exhale. "Having to take care of the stranger no one trusts, nor likes. But for tonight, please save me from having to deal with your hostilities. Or your anger. I've felt enough of it to last a life time."
She knew without watching that her words forced him to flip over, most likely to his other side so he could see her.
"You don't know what I'm feelin'," he accused.
Rolling her eyes, Paige grabbed at a blanket she'd discarded, and tugged it over her, slumping back down to the ground.
An anger oozed into her system, but she wrestled it down, knowing defending herself now wasn't worth it.
And yet, the hyperactiveness of her brain didn't get the memo.
"No one asked you to save my life. But let this serve as a future reminder. If you're going to regret saving someone's life later on, it's probably a good idea not to do it in the first place."
More bitterness laced the statement than she wanted, but Paige was done listening to the man's bipolar attitude towards her presence.
One moment, he saved her. The next moment, he dumped her into the arms of another person and ran off. Moment after that, he'd told her to stay put and offered a place to sleep. Followed by a cranky attitude and an unpredictable moodiness.
He was like a menopausal woman.
"I don't regret savin' your life."
Paige snuggled down deeper in the blanket, releasing a quiet sigh. The harshness of the wind successfully drowned it out.
"Could've fooled me," she murmured.
Neither said a word after this, instead, busying themselves with listening to the howls of the wind and rumble of thunder growing closer. Just the ferocity of the storm could be determined in the claps above.
"It's nearly September, isn't it?" Paige inquired, needing to break the silence somehow, even if it meant directing his annoyance toward her.
"Sounds 'bout right," he answered a moment later.
"That means hurricane season has started already. All the survivors living on the Gulf coast...they won't realize it's there until...it's there."
"Hadn't even thought of that," Daryl realized. "Maybe one's hit already and we're 'bout to get bits of what's left."
Paige chuckled to herself, but there layed no amusement in it.
"People eating people. Natural disasters. I almost want to believe in God just so I can ask him what the hell his problem is."
"You never struck me as the atheist type," the hunter noted, scanning her with a squint.
"I wasn't," she answered in surprise, wondering why she was speaking about her lack of faith in the first place. "I used to believe in God. Went to church nearly every Sunday. Prayed when family members got sick, thanked God when they got better, and gave away parts of my allowance to a town hospital."
"Must've been somethin' big to make ya lose all that faith."
Rather than pity or accusation, Paige detected curiosity in Daryl's voice. Something she was truly relieved to hear. The few other times she'd relayed her personal beliefs to friends, they'd looked down on her for losing faith so easily. And for the longest time, she felt a fair amount of guilt for it.
"It was," she agreed, forcing herself to stop there. Otherwise, all her secrets would be pouring out like a waterfall and minutes ago, Paige already established that Daryl wanted nothing to do with her.
Which is why he offered me his tent to stay in for the night. Could I have met a more confusing man?
Slowly, Paige rolled over to her other side.
Only to come in contact with Daryl's stare, firmly trained on her, as usual, giving away little of what he thought.
An unfamiliar tingle jolted inside Paige's tummy, amplifying the more she noticed how intense the stare truly was. As if he himself couldn't quite contain it.
He's staring at me as if-.
"Who's Merle?"
The question successfully broke the eye contact, and with a grimace, Daryl pushed himself on his back, eyes forced up.
But he didn't answer the question. At least not right away.
"Why you wanna know?" he demanded roughly. "This ain't a therapy session to talk 'bout our feelin's."
"I've been in therapy," she responded softly, "and it's nothing like what we're doing now. Honestly, I'm just relieved you're talking to me. If I have to listen to the silence in my head for one more minute, I think I'm going to explode."
He didn't seem convinced, so she continued, "You don't have to answer the question. I can tell already he was someone close. But please...don't shut yourself off. I haven't chatted with another person for over a month. Ineed to talk. I need to make sure the hermit life I've taken on hasn't made me crazy."
Daryl glanced at her, lips set in a line.
"You don't go speakin' a word of this to anyone else, you understand?"
"What happens in the tent, stays in the tent," she promised, offering him a smile. "Although...I can't see why what you feel should be something to hide from others."
"Feelin's are for pussies," came the immediate retort.
Paige laughed. Loudly. So loudly in fact that her entire form shook as a result, eyes slamming shut.
Once she'd opened them again, Daryl's narrowed gaze aimed itself on her.
"Sorry," she apologized, covering her mouth with a hand. "That was rude of me. Who is the contributor of that brand of wisdom?"
When he didn't answer, Paige took a guess of her own.
"Merle?"
"He's a lot smarter than ya think."
"He's your brother, I take it?" she confirmed. "Because if it was say a son, I think I'd be a bit concerned."
"Don't have any children," he revealed, scrunching his features up a bit. "Worst thing to have right now."
Paige only nodded back, knowing how true the statement really was.
Daryl stayed quiet for a minute, thoughts somewhere else completely.
"I can see you loved him a lot."
The man only released a disbelieving snort.
"You've still got his blankets. And I'm guessing some of his supplies around here too," she observed. "You haven't touched any of it because you think he'll come back. I don't care if feelings are for pussies and blow torches are for nuns, that shows love."
When she still failed to garner a response, Paige lowered herself on her back, a wee bit discouraged.
Maybe I went to far with it? Should have stopped when I knew the topic was sensitive to him. Damn it, why do I always do that?
The familiar waves of guilt rushed through her, making Paige wish she'd never opened her mouth in the first place.
"He didn't get along wit' the rest o' the group," Daryl suddenly spoke.
Masking her surprise, Paige turned her head toward him.
"How's that?"
If possible, Daryl's grimace sank even deeper.
"He liked makin' the rules, never followin' them. Had a problem wit' nearly the whole world. But he counted on me to survive with him."
"You were brothers. Nothing wrong with that," she agreed. "What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Don't fuckin' care," he grunted. "Went into Atlanta wit' some o' the group to get supplies. They left him chained to the fuckin' rooftop of a department store."
Paige flinched at the venom in his tone.
"That's terrible."
Daryl shrugged, shutting his eyes.
"They said he was holdin' them back. Woulda gotten them killed."
He then laughed, but it came out much of the way her own laugh had. Drained of humor.
"The real fucked up thing is I understood why they did it before I even got angry."
"That's not fucked up," she reasoned. "You obviously still love him. Otherwise, you wouldn't be holding on to his stuff. Every now and then, we have our weak moments toward the people we love, but we don't have to let those moments define us."
Daryl threw her a glare, mouth twisted. Just by the expression, Paige knew he didn't appreciate the sentiment, and with it would come a hostile response.
"Can you even cuss? You're what, sixteen?" he berated.
Her mouth dropped open before she could even contain the shock, and a blush erupted through her cheeks when Daryl began laughing. Openly, and with actual humor in his voice.
"Just turned 23!" she exclaimed. "I assure you I'm very entitled to say fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuckity, fuck."
"23?" he repeated, laughter dying. "Bullshit. You ain't older than 21."
"Last thing I bought before the outbreak was a bottle of Smirnoff. I've still got half of it left underneath my canopy in the woods," she defended. "Only use it for setting fires. Don't drink it anymore because it only makes me more dehydrated. And the last thing I want to be is drunk considering who I could run into."
"Merle shot better when he was buzzed."
"Now that's fucked up," Paige pointed out.
This earned another chuckle out of the man, and this time, Paige couldn't help but smile herself.
The first comfortable silence of the night rested itself between them, and as a result, Paige felt herself grow just a little bit more tired.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Ain't gonna guarantee I'll answer," Daryl replied. "I ain't the talkin' and revealin' type."
"That's fair," she acknowledged. "I just want to know...who were you before the apocalypse?"
He threw Paige a confused glance. "Don't understand what y'er askin'."
"It is kind of vague, isn't it? I guess...tell me what you did for a job. Where you lived. Any pets? Who you voted for in the last election."
"Why are you so suddenly curious 'bout me?"
Because you can be incredibly open one moment, then a prom queen with PMS syndrome the next.
"Aren't I entitled to know a bit more about my rescuer?" she conceded, eying him with interest. "That and I am legitimately curious about you. I'll start out if that'd make you feel more comfortable."
"Go for it," he shrugged.
"Okay," she relayed, thinking back as she plopped her head back on a pillow. "I was a student in my last year of college before the apocalypse and in my free time, I worked at McDonalds so I could keep on affording college."
"Fast foods gives ya the shits," Daryl mumbled knowingly.
Choking back a laugh, Paige nodded to herself.
"I did have to tend to the bathrooms. Usually, I just did the girls room and that wasn't too bad. But I remember this one time, a co-worker - Brad - went into the men's bathroom and found that someone had shit all over the floor. They didn't even remotely try aiming for the toilet seat. Just shitted. Everywhere."
"That's fuckin' hilarious," Daryl expressed, fighting back a laugh of his own.
"Not if you were Brad. Poor guy had to clean the whole floor up. I think I would have quit on the spot if they'd asked me to do it," she revealed, failing to hide her sympathy.
She could even recall now, the manager gazing around at her crew workers, determining which one to send in.
"When I wasn't busy dealing with irate customers or essays, I lived in an apartment in Athens, Georgia which is about an hour and a half drive from Atlanta. The place was unusually cheap, but only because it was in the wrong part of town. Bad roads, possible prostitution. That kind of wrong part."
"Why'd you choose Athens?"
"Because I attended the University of Georgia."
"Ain't state schools more expensive?"
"Far more," she agreed. "But I was the first person in my family who'd be able to go to college. Even though it was costly, my parents did their best to pay for everything."
Daryl seemed sedated for a second, but she knew he had something else to say. So, she waited until that moment came.
"Don't know why people go to college when ya can learn just as much on your own. Expensive as hell. Plus, actually gettin' somewhere in life...it ain't gonna happen to everyone."
When she didn't answer right away, Daryl scanned her over.
"Offended you?"
"No," Paige managed back soberly. "It's just that...you're right."
"Didn't expect t'a hear that," he responded quizzically, still studying her.
"Well...I guess you've got to understand that I had expectations for college. I thought it'd lead me to success. I thought the tuition would be worth it. I thought I'd have the college experience. But, I guess I was a bit...disillusioned. Forgetting that a recession still gripped the country. And that I wasn't just competing for jobs on a national level, but an international one as well."
She paused for a moment, trying to figure out the next words. Even now, her wasted time at the university still managed to poison her mood.
"The pretty picture college representatives painted us, was far from what it really was like. By the time I was in my senior year, I felt cheated. Yeah, the parties were fun. And I became completely independent, something I've always longed for. But...the field I majored in, well, they were firing more people than hiring. And quite soon, I ran out of money to change to something else. My college rep at the admissions office, stopped returning my calls. So, basically if you ever had a secret fantasy of going to college, I'll tell you now - you didn't miss out on anything."
The sudden crack of lightning just a few miles out, jolted both of them from their spots.
For just a second, everything lit up, and Paige briefly thought how creepy and convenient it'd be for a walker to pop up. Typical horror movie atmosphere.
"Sucks 'bout the bad experience," Daryl offered.
"Considering that's you being sympathetic, thank you," Paige approved. "What was the next thing I'm suppose to tell you?"
"Pets."
Paige threw a hasty look at Daryl, pleasantly surprised at how quickly he'd remembered.
Maybe my mindless rambling is helping him get to sleep as well. Gosh, that's depressing.
"I had no pets," she recalled. "I begged my mom for a turtle when I was eight. It was the year I broke my leg after falling out of a tree and I felt that if I could care for a pet that walked just as slow as me, I wouldn't feel so bad about being a cripple."
"Never got it?"
"Nope. My uncles were huge hunters. Went North every November for open season. My mom said she was afraid they'd make soup out of my turtle. That successfully scared me off from ever asking for a pet."
Daryl kept his mouth closed, but it only took a curious scan from Paige to know he had something to say.
"You've had turtle soup, haven't you?"
"You gonna get pissed if I say yes?" he answered back, observing her slightly wounded features.
"If you say you enjoyed it, I might."
"Have had it. Personally, tha soup's too thick. And tastes more like tuna, somethin' I couldn't stomach no matter how much Merle shoved it down my throat. But I'd never eat it if I knew it we're someone's pet."
"Thank you," she replied sincerely.
Their gazes stayed locked for an extra second before splitting off in different directions.
"I voted for Obama," Paige finally concluded, knowing a yawn rested in the bottom of her throat. "Unfortunately, no one will ever know if his goals for the country would have worked out."
"Merle said 'Bama gettin' elected was the worst thing to happen to this country," Daryl added, risking a glance at her.
"Did you agree?" Paige inquired, making sure to keep her tone free of accusation.
Daryl blinked, refusing to speak for a few seconds.
"Jus' a skin color," he gruffly responded. "Don't determine whether you're a dumbass."
The statement, more or less, was what she wanted to hear. She already guessed Merle often had the say for the both of them, even if Daryl believed different.
The fact that Daryl did indeed have his own thoughts, his own views of the world and didn't cave just because his brother usually decided for him, made her see the man in a different light. A light she was sure not many of the people in his group saw him in.
"You're a...more fascinating guy than you give yourself credit for," Paige yawned, tightening the blankets around her as another crack of light spread through the sky. "Doesn't hurt to let others here see that. You've only got each other from now on."
She could practically feel the heat of Daryl's stare, but for the moment, closing her eyes to catch that elusive sleep, remained her number one priority.
"Oh," she gasped, popping open her eyes and setting them on the hunter. "We didn't even get to you. I can stay up a little longer and listen."
"Ya need the energy for tomorrow," came his excuse.
"You sure?" she followed, mimicking the squint he usually threw at her. "I'm a good listener."
"I don't need a therapist," he bluntly retorted.
Knowing that hostile Daryl would shortly make a reappearance if she kept on pestering him, Paige only shot him an apologetic smile.
"Night then."
With that, she turned over to her other side, wrapping the blankets tight around her.
Seconds later and not even the fear of a walker stumbling into camp, could keep her eyes open.
So, for the first time in over a month, Paige descended into a proper rest, tummy full and body calm.
DPDDPDDPDDPD
Only when the Grass Fox's breaths were comin' out deep and far apart, did Daryl finally peek over at her.
Shouldn'ta snapped at her. Only makin' small talk.
And to his discomfort, guilt followed this train of thought. It held no proper sense, or maybe it did, but Daryl was too anxious to figure it all out.
What he did know was that she didn't deserve the anger he'd assaulted her with.
Most of his bad mood came from his encounter with Lori. Being Rick's wife didn't change the fact that she was a bitch. In fact, it made him wonder how the hell the marriage lasted in the first place.
Unfortunately, this anger didn't budge, only growin' when the girl talked about wantin' to find Glenn.
Which was the last thing he wanted her to do. Even though it'd come out harshly, it didn't change what he meant. Distractin' Glenn might cost the entire group their lives. Plus, she needed to be restin' if she hoped to continue on tomorrow without passin' out.
But then she came back and accused him of not carin' that he had saved her life. And that, outta all things, leveled out his anger.
Instead, it let him know exactly what the girl thought of him and it didn't exactly please Daryl.
When she spoke up a few minutes later about hurricane season, Daryl answered just so he didn't have to seem like a bigger asshole than he probably already made himself out to be. He didn't know why he cared about how she saw him, but he knew that talkin' to her was somethin' he needed to do to not only calm himself down, but help make sure the girl got her rest for the next day.
And then before even he knew it, he'd started blabberin' on about Merle. And the Grass Fox actually listened, not accusin' him of bein' a dumbass like he was sure Shane or T-Dog would. 'Cause they had known Merle personally and felt no sympathy for his blatant racism and 'fuck you' attitude toward authority, Shane in particular.
Her neutrality and tolerance made it easier to speak about his rapidly confusin' feelings toward his brother, but also more dangerous.
He hadn't been lyin' when he'd told her he wasn't the discussin' type. 'Specially 'bout his feelings.
But somehow, when the Grass Fox began revealin' her life, how she felt suddenly didn't seem like what Merle would describe as pussy behavior. Outta all things, he sympathized wit' her. He didn't grow bored by what she had to say. And above all, in subtle ways, it sounded like she got screwed over more than she was lettin' on.
I still don't even know her goddamn name.
And despite sharin' what she had, Daryl still recognized the instances when she purposely kept certain parts of her life closed off from him, only familiar because he found himself doing it so often throughout his life.
Not even a name, though. What the hell is she afraid of?
Daryl scanned her once more, this time with the knowledge that he would see her in a different life from now on. No longer was she just a ragged face to him, a weightless body, an elusive girl who'd saved his life. She had a story, a prior life, a reason for doin' what she did when she did it.
And that was more he could say for most relationships he'd had in his life.
It took awhile for this realization to sink in, and when it did, a brief flicker of alarm hit him. But it was outshined by what he wanted to know most.
Why she was alone.
The girl was interestin' enough to where people would want to be in her company. But, instead, she only had a single companion. A sniper she'd named Winston.
Who would wanna be alone at such a messed up time? And not at least wanna stay with a group o' survivors just for a few days? Doesn't she even crave that contact?
He didn't know, and the fact that he wanted to know, worried him. Especially since he knew she'd be bookin' it soon as she woke up. And he'd be left wonderin' for probably the rest of his life why she distanced herself the way she did when she had a decent personality.
Decent? Shit. I nearly spilled my guts to her. Had to be goin' for psychology or some bullshit like that.
With a rough exhale, Daryl shut his eyes, hoping to shove out, like he'd done a night before, all thoughts of the Grass Fox. No need to get more concerned or attached than necessarily. She'd probably be gone by the time he woke up.
But like before, his method had little effect. And one final realization hit him as the ability to stay lucid, disassembled.
Soon as I get my blankets back, they're gonna smell like her. And it ain't gonna be a bad smell neither.
So, Paige reveals a little more about herself, but can't seem to make Daryl do the same. Understandable. She's still a stranger to him. But he does reveal some personal thoughts, not without kicking himself later on because according to Merle, feelings are for pussies. Oh, and the McDonalds part is actually based on personal experience. I work at a McDonalds and I kid you not, a guy crapped all over the floor one day. A co-worker named Brad did have to clean it up. He quit a few weeks later, probably cause it was a shitty job (pun intended), but I felt undeniable sympathy for him. Luckily, we hired a maintenance guy who takes care of any sort of crap like that (another pun!). Anyways, let me know your thoughts in a review!