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 Two
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
Cassidy took a deep breath, balanced the knife in her palm, sighted her target, and let the knife fly from her fingers. The wicked little knife whistled as it soared through the air and embedded itself with a thud into the soft plaster of the wall. She pulled it out of the wall with a soft grunt of effort, examining the mark it had left. She winced. She never had been good at knife-throwing. Her aim sucked for a start. This attempt had landed a good eight centimetres from the line she'd drawn as her target. She squinted down at the knife as if it were to blame. A flicker of movement marred the corner of her vision and she froze. Her tense shoulders relaxed a fraction when she recognised the ridiculous hat. What the hell was Carl doing? She lightened her steps on the metal walkway, gliding above him in silence as he slipped away from the group still gathered around Hershel's cell.
She swung over the railing, dangling for a brief moment before landing like a cat on all fours. She followed Carl into the darkness of the prison, bitterly regretting not having more weapons with her. She tailed him at a safe distance, silently despatching three walkers who crept around the black hallways. Carl was taken by surprise a few times but each time he put the walker down with an almost eerie calm and she felt a strange mix of pride and dread as she watched. She waited quietly in the shadows as he raided the Infirmary. She didn't know why exactly she kept herself hidden from him, or why he'd randomly gone wandering into the walker-infested hallways by himself, either way she was inordinately relieved when they reached the safety of the cell block. She stayed in the general area just long enough to ascertain that Daryl was still in the depths of the prison. Then she followed Carl who was stomping away from his mother with anger blazing on his cheeks.
"Hey."
He ignored her completely, continuing to roll a can of unidentified something against the wall irritably. Whatever was inside sloshed unpleasantly as it hit the wall with a dull thud before rolling back along the landing towards Carl. He caught it and rolled it with a little more force this time. Cassidy sat down beside him, leaning back against the mesh railing. She had caught the tail end of the unpleasant argument between mother and son and, whilst she usually left the drama well alone, she was not happy that he'd gone skipping off into the depths of the prison alone. Well, he'd thought he'd been alone anyway. She felt a strange punch of guilt in her stomach and she shifted uneasily. For some baffling reason she didn't like lying to the kid. Of course now that she'd found him looking so absolutely miserable, the lecture had evaporated in her mouth.
"You did good, kid." She said softly, looking across the balcony at the ugly scratched wall.
He blinked, lifting his head and eying her from under the huge hat in amazement. That was clearly not what he'd expected. He tilted his head suspiciously.
"I mean it."
His freckled cheeks flushed and he spun the can around in his hands embarrassedly. Cassidy sighed. She had grown far too attached to the little brat over the months. She sort of sensed a kindred spirit in him, they'd both been stripped of their childhoods through no fault of their own and now had to make the best of what was left.
"I'm not going to tear you a new one about your little field trip." He dipped his head until she could only see the top of the hat. "You know what I'm going to say?"
"It was dumb to go alone." Carl muttered grouchily, returning to bouncing the can off the wall.
"Indeed." Cassidy watched the now thoroughly dented can moving backwards and forwards.
"I could do it."
"I never said you couldn't." Cassidy sniffed, catching the slight curl of his lips. "I'm well aware of what you can and can't do. That's not the point under discussion." Carl dipped his head again. "When you're entering a dangerous situation with an unknown number of hostiles…"
"Take back up." Carl murmured immediately and Cassidy felt a tiny flicker of pride deep in the pit of in her stomach. "I know."
"So don't do it again." Cassidy shook his slender shoulders playfully and he laughed. "I mean it, kid." Cassidy added, more soberly. "Knowing your limits is part of surviving. Don't get yourself killed by your own stupidity."
Carl scowled at her and she grinned, sticking her tongue out and contorting her face. They lapsed into companionable silence for a while, the rolling and sloshing of the can the only noise. Carl glanced down as Beth emerged from the bunk containing her father, leaning back against the wall and covering her face with her hands.
"Are you worried about him?"
Cassidy shot Carl a bemused look.
"Hershel?"
He shook his head, still watching Beth below them.
"Daryl."
Cassidy looked away from the stricken girl and out into the dark depths of the prison. He had disappeared with Rick and T-Dog to sort out the prisoners after telling her in no uncertain terms that she was to stay here. It had been one hell of an argument. Several times she'd sensed Rick outside their bunk, hovering awkwardly wanting to ask them to keep it down but rightly fearing for his life should he do so. Cassidy had been beyond furious at being ordered to wait for them and Daryl had been insistent that the group couldn't lose all of their strongest fighters in one blow. There had been an unknown element burning at the back of his eyes, too. Something she hadn't seen there before. She had almost thought it was fear. They were experts at handling walkers now, the group had it down to the ground but this wasn't just walkers. Daryl trusted no one. She flattered herself thinking maybe he had finally brought himself to trust her over the months, but those prisoners were a whole other story. The argument preceding his departure had been brief but nasty and they had not parted with sweet words as Maggie and Glenn had. But then they never did. Her chest was cold every time it struck her that the last thing she might ever have said to him were harsh words. Cuss words. Insults. In fact she'd been a downright bitch.
"Ya not goin'."
Cassidy snorted, not even looking up from checking over her weapons.
"I think we're way past this discussion by now."
"This is different." Daryl insisted, snatching the knife from her hand to catch her attention.
"How is it any different from the thousands of raids over the winter?" She asked coolly, folding her arms and glaring him down.
"Ya not goin'." Daryl repeated firmly. "Neither is Maggie."
"Don't even do that." Cassidy snapped, resisting the urge to slap him upside his fat head. "Maggie and I are two entirely separate individuals. She's not going because her father is inches from croaking it. And you know if she wanted to go it wouldn't matter a jot whether Glenn said she couldn't or not." Cassidy gave him a glimmer of a smirk from under her lashes. She propped her hands up on her hips and glowered. "Because we don't answer to you. It's not the Dark Ages."
Daryl knew she was perfectly capable of going on in this direction for quite a ridiculous amount of time. In fact it was her main homerun swing. She'd browbeat him with her articulate arguments until he was so angry he could hardly get a word out and then somehow he'd find her doing exactly what he'd been trying to prevent her from doing in the first place. He scrubbed his hands over his face tiredly. Jesus H Christ he loved this woman, but she drove him completely insane. She was still talking. Hadn't even paused for breath. His hands flashed out, catching her wrists and yanking her towards him. She stiffened angrily against him.
"You. Are. Not. Coming." He articulated every syllable in deadly calm tones, cutting her off when she opened her mouth angrily. "And I don't have time to argue with ya about it."
As soon as the words slipped out of his mouth, he knew he'd said exactly the wrong thing. For a second she somehow stiffened even further against him, every single muscle coiled rigid, and then she relaxed and slipped from his grasp. He tried to retain his grip on her but she evaded him with a single look, ice glittering in her eyes.
"Fine." Her voice was disturbingly monotone and Daryl shivered. "Run away and play the hero. Just don't expect me to sit around playing your damsel in fucking distress." She took a step away from him, her face creasing in a momentary dark look that made his skin tingle. "I thought you had more respect for me than that."
She gave him a look as if she were seeing something in him for the first time, something she didn't particularly like. Rick's boots thumped with a strange tinny echo as he approached the cell, calling Daryl's name impatiently. Cassidy jerked her chin towards the door, her arms folded over her chest angrily.
"Better hurry, your master's calling."
The look Daryl gave her was downright poisonous but he merely whirled on his heel and stomped away without another word.
Cassidy snapped out of her daze, the hairs on her arms lifting. Something was going on, Beth was screaming hysterically and there was an almighty commotion in Hershel's cell. Cassidy swung down from the bunk she'd been brooding on, almost knocking Carl over as he scrambled out of his own cell. Carl dashed towards the noise but Cassidy hung back, her eyes automatically searching but there was no sign that they were back yet. The tight iron band in her chest eased somewhat. Lochie clattered down the metal steps behind her, her hair a wild halo and her face creased from sleep. She tripped down the last step and clung onto Cassidy, naked fear emblazoned across her face.
"I don't-" Lochie cut herself off, a confused bewildered expression crossing her face before she tried again. "I want-"
"No." Cassidy took hold of Lochie's elbow, turned her around and pushed her back up the stairs.
"I need-" Lochie stumbled up another step, that same horrific pained expression all over her face as she looked over her shoulder.
"No you do not." Cassidy said firmly, pushing her more firmly until her feet automatically moved up the metal steps. "You don't need to see whatever is going on."
She shoved Lochie up the last step, forcibly turned her towards her cell and manoeuvred her onto the bottom bunk. Lochie was trembling from head to foot, her body shaking so badly the bunk shivered beneath her.
"You've seen enough." Cassidy said, a little more gently, pushing Lochie's hair back from her face.
"Stay with me?" Lochie asked shyly.
Cassidy nodded, nudging her onto her back and folding her up into the blankets like a child.
Daryl had checked over every entrance and peeked into every cell at least three times. He couldn't put it off any longer. He hitched his bow more securely onto his shoulder and climbed the stairs. She was coiled in amongst the nest of blankets and pillows and sheets they'd commandeered, well technically Lochie had commandeered. He had hoped she'd be there but he hadn't actually expected it. She was sitting against the wall with her legs propped up against the railing. Her bare legs. Her long bare legs under one of his sleeveless shirts. He forced himself not to stare with great difficulty. He carefully deposited his bow and sat on the top step to strip off his boots. His initial pleasure at finding her waiting for him was rapidly dissipating as she proceeded to completely ignore him. She seemed to be focused entirely on her book as if it held all the answers in the world.
Scratching at a mosquito bite inside his shirt, Daryl winced as the dried blood on the thin material caught on the edges of the nasty wound he'd received bouncing off a broken steel door and re-opened it. He heard the pages rustle behind him and he knew she had seen the gash oozing fresh blood. He waited curiously but she didn't say a word. Daryl slumped down grouchily into the blankets, feeling unutterably sorry for himself. Cassidy continued to read, or at least pretend to, for a while. But she couldn't help herself, as much as she'd rather poke out her own eyes than admit it. She poked him sharply in the shoulder and he glared. She merely glowered right back, making a movement with her fingers. He followed her direction and rolled onto his front with a grunt. He lay on his front without uttering a word as she cleaned his wound, her hands rougher than they needed to be to remind him that she was still angry.
"I'll sleep with Lochie tonight." She said tonelessly when she'd finished, tossing the bloodied rags away.
Daryl lifted his eyebrows and leered at the suggestion and she rolled her eyes irritably. He heard her climbing to her feet and he rolled over, sweeping her feet out from under her with his feet and catching her against him as she tumbled down in surprise. He locked his arms around her, tightly enough to hold her in place but enough to allow a minor struggle. She lay rigidly beneath him, her back pressed the length of his body.
"Let go of me." She grumbled, twisting her face away as he tried to kiss her. "I'm still angry."
"No ya not. Ya just grouchy I took you down." He chuckled, his stubble scratching deliciously against the tender skin of her throat.
"Don't be ridiculous." She snapped, glowering mutinously as her body melted under his caresses. "You did not take me down."
"Ya down ain't ya?" He murmured against her pulse point, using his body to anchor hers a little more snugly into the blankets to prove his point.
Cassidy locked her leg around his knee and whipped him onto his back with an echoing clang as his body hit the metal balcony.
"Don't flatter yourself, redneck." She grinned, coiling her fingers into his hair and tightening her grip until he half-grimaced in pleasurable pain. "I could handle you any day." She breathed against his earlobe, her lips caressing the shell of his ear.
"Prove it." Daryl challenged, his fingers biting into the skin of her wrists where she was still tugging at his hair.
He yanked her hands away, lurching into a sitting position so he could finally reach her lips. He kissed her with burning branding intensity, his hands sliding under her vest top and touching bare skin hungrily. She shoved him back down so hard his skull bounced off the floor and he glared. She smiled wickedly, practically purring as she traced her nails around the contours of his chest. He bunched his hand into her hair and yanked roughly, practically throwing her over. She laughed even as minor pain danced along her skin from the impact.
"Can you guys keep it down up there?!" Lochie's irritable voice distracted them into breaking apart.
She untangled herself from his embrace and climbed into the nest of blankets they'd scattered in their wrestling match. Daryl discarded his torn shirt and lay back against the mound of cushions, clothes and their escape packs. Cassidy curled into his side and he knew the argument was forgotten.
"What happened with the prisoners?" Her voice was soft, her breath whispering against his bare skin.
She listened in silence as he relayed the day's events, telling her everything that Rick had left out earlier. She took it all in without commenting, mulling over the unlikelihood that this would have a happy ending. She'd known something had gone on of course. Rick could never hide what he was thinking no matter how hard he tried, the fact that something had happened had been emblazoned all over his face from the second they'd returned. He'd been forced to kill, again. No matter how justified the action had been, she knew it would prey on the Sheriff's mind. Daryl had drifted into a semi-doze and he grunted in his sleep, hauling her a little closer against him. She tightened her grip on his waist, listening to the steady thrum of blood pounding through his chest.