Chapter 4
A few days later Amy invited Tabatha on a walk down to the water. The division of chores hadn't fully been hashed out yet, so for the time being there was some free time. Usually Tabby wouldn't of accepted the offer, she hadn't ever really had time for friends or even a social life. For the past thirteen years she had been throwing herself into school and work. She had finally saved up enough money to buy a house without a loan, which was a goal she had set for herself after watching her parents destroy themselves over paying off loans.
That's what had ended her up here. Her lawyer had told her that even though she and her husband had been separated for so long, he could still make a claim to what she had if she bought the house before a divorce was finalized. It was something she had been putting off and hiding from for so long, she wasn't sure if she was strong enough to hash out her past. But after several failed attempts at sending the papers and trying to have him served, she realized the only way she had a chance at it was in person. The thought had terrified her, but she had always known she'd have to see him again, she had just always hoped that it was on her death bed.
Talking to Amy was so much easier than she ever thought it would be. It distracted her from her mess of a situation, and any distraction from thinking about the fact that her and her estranged husband were jammed together in the same camp was very welcome. Of course, it would of been so much easier if he didn't keep popping up everywhere she went, or if he stopped watching her. She knew he thought he was being sneaky about it, thought he was such a good hunter that no one would ever notice. But he forgot that she knew him, all his little ticks and quarks. She could feel his eyes on her constantly. It was definitely bringing back unwanted memories.
She was laughing about something Amy had said when she felt it again. He walked up to the water and made a show of washing off his hands and face. As soon as she knew he was there her laughter died and her eyes clouded over. Amy kept looking between the two of them uncomfortably, praying that they wouldn't end up in another argument. She started to brace herself for the on coming storm when Daryl walked over to them.
"Can I talk to ya?" he asked, staring Tabatha in the face until she nodded slightly. He motioned for Amy to leave and she scrammed as quickly as she could.
He stood there for awhile, just watching her. Finally she couldn't take it anymore, "you said you wanted to talk, so talk."
"I thought, ya know, maybe we should talk bout what happened." he mumbled, rubbing his hand over his head.
"What? The fact that you've been hiding from reality for so long that you thought I would never find you to get my divorce? Or is it about how you keep watching me every second of the day?" she said with a steely glare at him.
He shook his head, "Naw, I was thinking more bout why ya left in the first place."
The color left her face and she swore her heart had relocated itself to her stomach. She shook her head, "No." was all she said.
"No?" he asked, his words edged with the anger that was building inside of him.
"That's right, I said no. It was a long time ago, a completely different life for me. I won't be walking down memory lane about this. Not with you, not with anyone. Got it?" she asked, but before he could answer she stormed off back to camp.
When she got there she realized she really didn't want to be around anyone, so she veered off into the woods a little ways, just far enough away so no one could hear her. Then, and only then, did she let the tears fall. She hadn't realized how long she had been holding onto them, because when they started, they wouldn't stop, and she had to brace herself against a tree as her mind betrayed her and sped her back to the life she had left behind.
"Daryl," she moaned as he plunged into her over and over again. That night they were in his truck, surrounded by the smell of grease, smoke, dirt, and sex. She had been back for her summer stay for barely a month when their teenage hormones had taken over. From the way he touched her she knew she wasn't his first. But she knew she'd never tell him that he was her's. Could never tell him that she had been ga-ga over him since she was thirteen.
She knew he'd never be interested in her the way she was, she was just his brace-faced, tom-boy friend. They got in trouble together, they'd never get busy together though. He had always been able to open up to her about everything, and for the most part, he was her only confidant. But Tabatha knew that was as far as it would ever go.
That was until last year. She'd gotten sent to summer school because she had been so distracted by her changing body that she had no interest in school. Her body had filled out, her breasts had finally come in, and they came in with a passion. Almost over night she had gone from flat chested to a C-cup. Her braces had come off and her face had cleared up. She was stunned to look in the mirror and see someone attractive. And her first thought had been of how Daryl wouldn't even recognize her.
But he did, she was still his best friend and partner in crime, but now she could be something more, too. She saw the way he looked at her when they'd go swimming, his eyes always straying down her body. Maybe, just maybe, she could have it all. The best friend, and the boyfriend, all rolled into one.
When he had put the moves on her that night in his truck she was so excited. He wanted her. Daryl Dixon wanted to be with her. It was like her dreams had come true.
Of course, with her luck, dreams always turned into nightmares. A few weeks after that night she was feeling really sick so her grandmother had taken her to the doctor, only to find out that she was pregnant. Then all Hell broke loose. Her family threatened his, demanding his father make him "do the right thing." She had to drop out of school, Daryl already had a couple years ago. And before she had even started showing she was Mrs. Tabatha Dixon.
They moved into a trailer, he had to work two jobs, her family and him actually agreeing on the fact that they didn't want her to have a job in her condition. She had always figured that his work load was why they fought all the time. But she could never get a straight answer out of him. He'd come home, have a beer with dinner and then start in on her.
The food wasn't good enough, the house wasn't clean enough, she didn't know how to do anything. She tried arguing the point that she was a seventeen year old, pregnant girl who had never had any experience with this. Her parents had always babied her. But he didn't seem to care.
Then the inevitable happened. The big whammy of a fight that had been building. She was about seven months pregnant at that point, he came home from a night out with Merle, completely drunk. He threw dinner against the wall, yelling that she burned it. She was scared, but stubborn, so she stood her ground.
"God, your drunk again. Why don't you go take a chill pill, Daryl. I guess I'll order a pizza or something." she said, reaching for the phone.
"OH, your gonna spend more a my money, huh? I don't think so, ya stupid bitch, ya'd probly fuck up orderin it anyway!" he yelled, yanking the phone out of her hand and throwing that against the wall, too.
"Don't you dare call me a stupid bitch!" she yelled back.
"I'll call ya whatever the fuck I want, bitch!"
She knew she really shouldn't, but her blood was boiling, and her mouth was working faster than her brain. "Just cuz your mother was a stupid bitch, doesn't make me one."
The pain was almost unbearable. He had never really realized how strong he was when he was drunk. But the sound the back of his hand made with her face seemed to sober him up quicker than a gallon of coffee.
They were both dead silent for a few minutes, processing the shit that just happened. He spoke first, as she slowly looked at him.
"Tabs...I'm.." but he didn't get to finish, as she pushed him against the wall and ran out of the back door that had been left open when he came through it.
"Tabatha!" he hollered out of the door, but the trailer park they lived in was a jumbled mess of places, and she was long gone from sight.
She had been walking for maybe an hour, crying from the pain and the anger raging through her, when a beat up car pulled up next to her.
"Hey Tabby Cat, what ya doin' walkin'?" It was Merle.
At first she thought about ignoring him, or telling him to fuck off. But then she thought this might be the way to get some revenge on Daryl. She knew Merle would probably kick the shit out of him once he found out he hit her. And she knew that there was no way she was going to win a fist fight against her husband.
So she got in. Merle was driving her back to her house, thoroughly pissed off at his baby brother, about ten minutes later.
Unfortunately, Tabatha had forgotten that Daryl had been out drinking with Merle before he came home. And if Daryl was drunk enough to hit her, Merle had to be twice as drunk.
She didn't even have time to breathe before the car flipped trying to avoid hitting a semi. The last thought going through her mind was to try to protect her belly. It really didn't work out the way she had hoped for.
Tabatha remembered waking up in the hospital a couple days later. She had gotten a concussion and some bumps and bruises. But the worst of it was that she'd lost the baby.
She was crumpled against the tree trying to get her breath back from the sobbing. The more she thought about it, the more she knew it was her fault. If she just hadn't been so spiteful, if she hadn't of gotten in that car, she would have her baby with her. The guilt started to wash over her. The guilt of loosing it, and the guilt of never telling Daryl that it was a son.
They had gone to so many appointments to try to see the sex of the baby, but he was never cooperative, he had always hid. The day of the big fight, she had gone to her appointment alone, Daryl had been at work. And he just rolled over in her tummy. A perfect, tiny boy.
If people knew the story, they would wonder why she was able to get along with Merle well enough, even though he was the one driving the car that ended her baby's life before it was fully started. But her and Merle had hashed that out years ago, before she had left.
He had come to her apologizing, and she had told him to shove it. Then he asked her if kicking the shit out of him would help, she wasn't sure if it would, but she really wanted to hit him. So she did. He didn't fight back, he stood there for nearly fifteen minutes and just let her wail on him, until she collapsed from exhaustion, both at hitting him and because of the sobbing she was doing at the same time.
Things would never be the same between them, they'd never be 'friends'. But they understood each other. Daryl, on the other hand, refused to speak to anyone for the longest time. She knew he had been blaming her, he had to be blaming her, it was her fault. At least in her opinion. She couldn't look at him, every time she did that night came flooding back to her. So she packed up and left, moved back to New Mexico with her parent's help.
Everyone felt responsible. Her family for pushing them into the marriage, Merle for crashing the car, Daryl for hitting her and causing her to leave, and Tabatha felt it all. Everything was her fault from the beginning.
If she just hadn't gotten involved with Daryl none of it would of ever happened. It was what she had wanted. She had caused it all, and loosing the baby had been her punishment.
Thank you to eloquent dreams, Miss E Charlotte, and Amaya Dixon for your reviews. And thank you to everyone who added this story to their alerts or favorites, it really means a lot to me =-) I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please leave some suggestions or reviews, or something lol.
