A/N: Don't own (although I'd love to have my very own Norman Reedus :D) don't sue!
Lyrics are from 'Rain' by Patty Griffin
Rain
Chapter Thirty
It's hard to listen to a hard, hard heart
Beatin' close to mine
Poundin' up against the stone and steel
Walls that I won't climb
Sometimes a hurt is so deep, deep, deep
You think that you're gonna drown
Sometimes all I can do is weep, weep, weep
With all this rain fallin' down
Strange, how hard it rains now
Rows and rows of big dark clouds
When I'm holding on underneath this shroud
Rain
It's hard to know when to give up the fight
Some things you want will just never be right
It's never rained like it has tonight before
Now, I don't wanna beg you, baby
For something maybe you could never give
I'm not lookin' for the rest of your life
I just want another chance to live
Strange, how hard it rains now
Rows and rows of big dark clouds
When I'm holdin' on underneath this shroud
Rain
"Jesus Christ!" Rick bolted to his feet, grabbing Lochie and steering her onto the dilapidated old couch of their latest haunt.
"I'm fine." She flapped her hands at him. He ignored her, pushing her down onto the couch and tilting her head towards the light filtering through the grimy windows. "Seriously, I'm fine. I had a rough encounter with the business end of a tree branch." Lochie admitted sheepishly.
"Maybe you should watch where you put your feet." Cassidy chipped in from where she was sprawled across an armchair flicking through an old magazine.
"It wasn't my fault." Lochie snapped. "Glenn forgot I was behind him."
On cue Glenn tumbled through the front door, almost tripping over the rug in his haste as he scrambled over to Lochie.
"I am so sorry! So sorry! I didn't even realise… I really didn't!" He whirled towards Rick and then Cassidy as if they were Lochie's parents, stammering out apologies until he could barely get a word out.
"It's alright, Glenn." Lochie sighed.
Glenn eyed the cut on her forehead doubtfully, his face flushing guiltily.
"Apart from almost taking Lochie's eye out." Rick shot Glenn a glance that made his cheeks flush rosy pink. "Did you guys find anything?"
"Nothing. Nada. Zip." Lochie sighed heavily, puffing out her cheeks and slouching back on the sofa.
Rick ran his hands over his face, unsuccessfully trying to hide his disappointment. Lori stirred in her sleep across the room and Lochie shot her a nervous look. Rick glanced at his wife and then turned away as if the very sight of her offended him. He was still crouching in front of Lochie and she touched his shoulder briefly. He gave her a small sickly smile. Lori was more than halfway through her pregnancy by now and usually she stomped around complaining about her back or her feet while Carol and Beth flapped around her trying to find her pillows and urging her to sit down. Every now and then she'd sidle over to Rick and try to talk to him but it never ended prettily. She'd even gone so far as trying to butter up Lochie for information about Rick. Over the long months since the farm Rick had become more and more withdrawn, he barely talked to anyone by this point except Daryl and Lochie. Even Carl could hardly get him talking anymore and he almost never spoke to his mother. He didn't know what had gone on between the three of them, but he sure as hell knew that his father blamed his mother for Shane's death.
"I need to think." Rick murmured, getting to his feet and disappearing into the small enclosed yard at the back of the old house.
They watched him go in silence, exchanging well-worn knowing looks. After a few moments of silence they dispersed. It was routine now, separating into smaller groups to strip the house of what they needed. They boarded up the house and chose their rooms, falling into a watch cycle they all knew by heart. It was routine, it was familiar. Daryl was still out on a food run with Maggie and Cassidy was restless. She tossed aside the magazine and slipped out of the living room. They'd holed up in a tall house this time, three storeys. She knew she'd find Carl on the small landing between the two sets of stairs. He was there, the parts of his father's gun spread out on a t-shirt as he sat cross-legged on the floorboards to polish them.
"Hey, kid." Cassidy held her hands up. "Don't shoot."
Carl looked at her with a frown and she sighed, parking herself next to him.
"How you doing?" She asked him.
Carl shrugged, focused entirely on the parts spread out before him. Cassidy stared straight ahead, eyeing the picture frames hanging neatly on the opposite wall. They were various family shots right out of a movie set. A handsome family of five there were pictures at the beach, skiing, graduation snaps, birthday shots and childhood poses. What looked like twins with their tongues out in their pyjamas holding brightly wrapped birthday presents. Carl followed her gaze after a moment of silence. She saw his intent gaze flickering over each photograph. He was starting to get frown lines and the thought made her inexplicably sad.
"Do you think they made it out?" He asked her, staring intently at a slightly askew picture of a pretty freckled young girl with pigtails and a wide gap-toothed smile.
"Honestly?" Cassidy replied, cupping her chin in her hand and leaning on her knee.
"Honestly." Carl repeated stubbornly. "Tell me the truth. What you think." He looked back down at the gun's splayed innards. "I'm not a kid."
"I think they probably tried to make it. Maybe they did. Maybe they didn't. It's a little easier to survive out here, not as many people ready to turn into walkers." Cassidy shrugged. "Who knows, maybe they're out there somewhere."
Carl looked at her closely for a few minutes, then fixed his attention back on the photos lining the wall. He stared at a picture of the parents, the two of them arm in arm laughing and beaming at the camera. It seemed like a lifetime ago that anyone could ever be that happy and carefree.
"You're different now, you know." Carl said suddenly, turning back to the gun parts. "When you first got to us, you didn't think any of us would stay alive." Cassidy blinked in amazement. "Now, it's like you…" He searched for the right words, his lips pursing as he thought. "You think we might make it."
Cassidy stared at the photos and mulled over his words. Maybe he was right. It certainly did seem as if they were determined to survive. They'd made it this far. They'd actually gotten pretty adept at staying alive lately.
"I like it." Carl gave her a sideways glance. "It means you're staying."
"Don't get all mushy on me kid!" Cassidy teased, jabbing Carl in his ticklish side with her fingers.
Carl squirmed, trying not to giggle. Their movements dislodged the gun parts and they bounced off down the stairs. They stopped wrestling and peeped guiltily over the edge of the bannister at the sound of an outraged squeak from the hallway below them. Maggie glared up at them, rubbing a red welt on her forehead with one hand and dangling Carl's gun in her other.
"Sorry." They muttered in unison, avoiding each other's eye so they wouldn't laugh.
"You better put your gun back together before your watch." Cassidy advised as they drew back onto the landing.
Carl frowned, looking down at his hands in his lap, streaked with thick black oil.
"They don't trust me to go on watch." He mumbled bitterly.
Cassidy sighed. And that was the crux of the situation now, wasn't it? Carl was struggling to find his place in the group as something other than Rick's son. This was why Cassidy hated kids. And men.
"I tell you what, tonight… you take my watch."
Carl goggled at her, his features dropping into a mask of suspicion.
"Really?" He narrowed his eyes.
"Sure. Just don't tell your dad, he'll hit the roof." Cassidy pursed her lips at the crestfallen look on his face. "Just think of it as a trial run, for now."
Carl nodded, scrambling down the stairs to gather up the parts for his gun.
Daryl woke briefly as Glenn left the room, bouncing his shoulder off the doorframe in the dark. Cassidy was moving around the bed in the dark, pulling on her jeans and searching for a sweater from her memory of the room. He cracked open an eye, watching the separate darkness of her body against the black of the room as she laced up her boots. The zip of her hoody winked in the faint chink of moonlight filtering through the boarded up window.
"Go back to sleep." She whispered in amusement, as aware of his every movement as always.
He grumbled a curse under his breath, practically hearing her grinning at him. She crawled back onto the bed, brushing her lips teasingly over the curve of his ear and grazing her teeth against his earlobe.
"Go to sleep." She breathed huskily, just letting the tip of her tongue breeze against the minute hairs on his skin.
He knew she was deliberately trying to bait him and he cursed at her grouchily, rolling away across the bed. She chuckled, zipping up the hoody and slipping out of the door. He drifted for a while after she'd gone but he couldn't settle. Something was different. He knew the sound of every set of boots in this group and the patterns they used to pace the perimeter while on watch. Cassidy always varied her routes and whatever she was doing now was nothing unusual, but that wasn't what was gnawing at him. Daryl shoved back the blanket and pulled on his clothes. The house was silent except for the various sleeping sounds issuing from behind closed doors as he moved down the hallway. The front room door was half ajar, the big room flooded with moonlight and Daryl paused on the threshold, blinking rapidly. He frowned, slipping back into the dark hallway and turning his feet towards the back door.
"Seriously?"
Cassidy hissed, glowering pointedly at Daryl until he ducked down besides her. She re-focused her gaze back on the house as he arranged his limbs next to her. She had kept her word and, after Glenn had woken her for her watch, she'd left it long enough for him to fall asleep before waking Carl to take over for her. Of course, he didn't know that she'd clambered down the drainpipe and set up in the treeline a few feet out of the yard, using her strategic vantage point to watch both the house and Carl. Daryl squinted at her and she rolled her eyes.
"Look, I think the kid is a good shot and he's aware of his surroundings."
"But you don't trust him on watch?"
"He's a kid." Cassidy could feel Daryl's gaze burning into the back of her neck. "Where's the harm?" She snapped defensively. "He feels better about himself and no one gets hurt because I'm still actually taking my watch. So long as no one tells him…" She glared threateningly.
"Getting soft." Daryl snorted under his breath, shuffling into a better position behind the scrubby thorny bush Cassidy had chosen for cover.
"Are you here for a reason?" Cassidy grumbled. Daryl didn't reply and she glanced at him over her shoulder. "Still not sleeping?"
Daryl shot her a death glare and she snorted, turning back towards the house. Daryl hated showing any signs of weakness and his inability to sleep for more than an hour or two at a time lately was itching at his sanity and pride like crazy. No one else knew about it yet, except for seeing he was even grumpier than usual, but he couldn't hide his disrupted sleep patterns from the girl who shared his bed. The thought made him twitchy, even after everything they'd been through.
"You look like shit." Cassidy tossed out casually, watching as Carl crossed the living room to peer out of the window at a passing squirrel disturbing the eerie stillness of the yard.
Daryl grumbled under his breath and she grinned. Even after a day and a half tramping through the woods searching for food he had still been unable to sleep for more than an hour when he got back. He'd been thoroughly explosive all night until even Carol was avoiding him like the plague.
"Come on." Cassidy climbed to her feet and stretched, easing the tired muscles and rubbing her aching butt. "My watch is over in ten. Let's go."
"Why don't you want him to know ya out here?" Daryl asked as they crept through the treeline and into the yard.
"I don't want to talk about it." Cassidy sighed, jumping the small fence separating the unkempt lawn from the scrubbier grass by the trees. "Just let this one go. Please."
Daryl didn't say anything, holding out his hand to help her jump down the sloping hill. They were too close to the eerily silent house to say anything further as she navigated the side of the house with a ridiculous amount of grace. She was already stripped down to one of his wife beaters and coiled under the blankets by the time he'd made his way through the bathroom window and into their bedroom. He yanked off his boots, jeans and shirt, tossing them in a haphazard pile and crawling in besides her.
"Hi." She murmured, pressing against him and spreading a familiar heat through his whole body. "If I sing you a lullaby will it help you to sleep?" She teased.
"Not your singin', no." He muttered and she gave an outraged little gasp and hurled herself away from him.
He chuckled, wrapping an arm around her waist and hauling her back against him. They playfully tussled for a moment, each failing to get the better of the other before gaining the upper hand. They stopped when they were too breathless to continue, the bed warm and rumpled from their wrestling.
"He's going to move us on tomorrow." Cassidy said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.
"Probably for the best." Daryl mumbled sleepily, propping one arm behind his head and lazily watching the crack of moonlight drifting over the ugly wallpaper out of the corner of his eye.
"Probably." Cassidy yawned, stretching her body luxuriously then coiling against his bare chest like a contented cat. "But would it kill him to find us somewhere with hot water this time?"