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 Forty
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
The night was long and interminable. They were all on edge waiting for something to happen, one way or another. Part of them knew that their friends might never come back, or if they did it would be as walkers. The rest of them knew that the Governor could return at any time and they had little to no chance of holding him off. It was inevitable that there would be no happy ending to this endless night.
Cassidy refused to give up the watch, she'd been lying on the rooftop for hours with her scope fixed on the road not moving a single inch. Lochie had tried to convince her to come down and eat something with them but she had refused, knowing full well that if anyone was watching them from the trees then as soon as she rose from her position, her vantage point would be blown. And she wasn't hungry. In fact every moment they didn't return, her stomach felt more and more like it was trying to eat itself.
Strangely enough Merle kept flickering across her mind. Who knew he had it in him to be something of a hero? She suspected that was what had hit Daryl the hardest, that his brother would sacrifice himself in the end to bring someone truly evil down with him. That was no good. Thinking about Daryl made her want to punch something. Hard.
Something cracked behind her and she tensed, straining her ears for an indication of what was behind her. After a moment she recognised Carl's grouchy gait and she relaxed, releasing her grip on her knife.
"Stay low." She ordered, not turning to look at him.
She heard him duck down, his clothes rustling in the still silence of the darkening night. Carl shuffled across the roof until he lay beside her, studying her rifle curiously. He had asked her once if she would teach him how to use Vera, but Cassidy had replied in a surprisingly polite tone that not even Daryl touched Vera and Lochie had only ever used her in emergencies. He had looked resentful for a moment and then he had nodded. He had not mentioned it again but whenever she took Vera out, he would eye her enviously. Cassidy waited for him to speak. She knew what had happened with the kid in the woods, Hershel had told her as they secured the prison as best they could. She had pushed it to the back of her mind, too focused on the danger they were in to ponder what was happening with her young friend.
"You wanna talk about it?" She asked after a long tense silence where Carl fiddled broodily with his knife.
"No." Carl snapped immediately, picking at a loose thread on his jeans angrily. "Maybe."
Cassidy glanced at him; his face was hidden by the huge brim of his father's hat. He was trying so hard to be a grown up but he still sulked like the teenager he was. Admittedly some grown men did that too.
"I'm listening."
Carl blinked at her in surprise. He had expected questions, an interrogation, accusations even. Not a scolding though, he knew she would never do that the way Hershel and his father did.
"You know what happened?" He asked, his voice a mixture of sheepish and sulkily defiant.
She made an affirmative noise, using the night vision scope to scan the trees. Carl blurted the story out, mumbling the part about the boy handing over the gun and snapping defensively when he reached the part about shooting an unarmed kid.
"My dad thinks it was wrong. He won't say it or anything but I know that's what he thinks."
Cassidy glanced at him, the petulant frown on his freckled face evident even in the dark.
"Were you wrong?"
Carl shot her a glance, trying to work out if she was mocking him or not.
"He… he would have killed us." Carl said warily, as if he expected her to fly at him.
"Possibly." Cassidy agreed calmly, pushing her hair back from her face as a cool breeze whipped across the rooftop.
"People die if you just wait around." Carl growled suddenly, "You can't be forgiving anymore."
"Not as a general rule, no." She looked at him steadily. "I think what the Sheriff is trying to say, is that there could have been another way."
Carl looked absolutely mutinous, of all people he had expected her to understand. As if she could read his mind, Cassidy chuckled humourlessly.
"I'm not saying you did the wrong thing, but I'm not saying you did the right thing either." She explained, cutting him off when he opened his mouth. "You have to make decisions in an apocalypse that no one should ever have to."
Carl's mouth clacked shut at the softness in her voice. She was actually the first person he'd spoken to who hadn't told him what he did was right or wrong, or what they would have done in his place. He felt slightly better. Cassidy never judged him, hardly ever judged anyone, if she was on your side she was on it completely. Even when you made a decision you might live to regret.
"Speak to your dad, kid." Cassidy advised as gently as she could, watching Carl visibly clam up regardless. "He isn't judging you and he won't chew you out. He just doesn't want you to become somebody you might not like one day."
Cassidy looked away from him, and something in her voice made him wonder if she was speaking from experience. She never talked about her family, what happened to her sister or how it affected her childhood and her relationship with her parents. He wondered if she talked about those things with Daryl. The thought made his belly squirm uncomfortably and he hurriedly pushed it away.
"Talk to him." She advised gruffly, making a tiny adjustment on her scope to account for the newly arrived breeze.
"He's not interested in talking unless I'm the one listening." Carl grumbled uncharitably.
Cassidy shrugged. She had given her advice, if he didn't want to take it that was his problem. That was another thing Carl liked about her, she never tried to convince anyone of anything; she laid out the facts and her opinion and if you didn't want to listen well she really couldn't care less.
They sat in companionable silence, watching the sky beginning to lighten as morning approached. Carl brooded over his relationship with his father and the injustice of it all and Cassidy waited for Daryl to come home.
Cassidy retreated from the bustle in the yard, walking right past someone smiling at her far too familiarly and looking quite ready to give her a hug. Cassidy gave the elderly woman a look that turned her white and stalked away. All of these people! In her space! Tramping all over the place as if they owned it. She'd much rather they had been overrun; she at least knew how to deal with that situation. Lochie was in her element; bandaging minor wounds and entertaining children, ordering people around and organising sleeping quarters.
Cassidy made her way to one of the watch-towers. It was a blackened mess but it was sturdy enough and she climbed up onto the deck. She had made this something of her own private hideaway now the prison seemed to be overflowing with people, stashing her stuff and Vera up here out of the way of prying eyes. She slouched back against the sooty wall and breathed a sigh of irritation. Peace at last.
She understood why Rick had brought half of Woodbury back with him, didn't mean she had to like it. A tousled head popped up through the floor and she lifted her eyebrows irritably at Daryl. He glared at her and she found herself grinning. She was supposed to be helping Michonne, Glenn and Maggie clear out the hallways so they could expand and he was supposed to be with Rick, Tyreese and two of the new guys securing the fences. Looks like they were both shirking their duties.
"Hello, redneck." She murmured as he pulled himself up opposite her. "Fancy meeting you here."
He glowered at her but she didn't take it personally, he was having trouble adjusting to the amount of people wanting to play happy apocalypse families too. He let his head fall back against the broken wall, his hair sliding over his sunburnt grimy neck.
In a moment all of her impatience and anger was gone and something far more interesting was making her fingertips tingle pleasantly. He caught a glimpse of a familiar gleam in her eye and he fought a smirk as she crawled towards him across the boards. She knelt beside him, leaning back on her feet, and observing him greedily.
"Did I tell you, Dixon, how glad I am you weren't eaten?" She cocked her head, looking at him through her lashes. "Or shot."
Daryl grunted. She hadn't actually. She had wrapped her arms around him and kissed him until his lungs were burning, but then she'd been so distracted by the army of elderly women and children they'd fetched up with, she'd let him go to give Rick an earful. They hadn't had more than a moment alone since, privacy was scarcer than ever these days. As if she could read his mind, her mouth widened into a wicked grin and Daryl felt heat pooling in his groin. She pressed on his knees until he obediently straightened out his legs, looking up at her as she threw her leg over him. She reared above him, stunning and vivid against the backdrop of the burnt watchtower.
She kissed him lightly, her tongue tracing his lips lazily as her fingers danced along his belt. He pushed his hands into her hair, knocking it out of its loose knot until it tumbled over her shoulders. She smiled against his mouth, her hands tugging at his shirt until he allowed her to strip it from him. He returned the favour by dragging the shirt of his that she was wearing over her head, exposing her black lace bra and the elegant tattoos he knew so well. She pushed his hair back from his forehead, littering his face with kisses as she unbuckled his belt impatiently. There was some shimmying involved to get her boots and jeans off and Daryl laughed, genuinely laughed, at the impatient look on her face as she struggled to unfasten the stiff buttons in her haste. She stuck her tongue out at him as she finally wriggled out of the skin-tight denim, proudly looming over him in nothing but black lace and wild scarlet hair.
She unbuckled his belt and released him from the confines of the denim, her mouth on his with a wild urgency. Daryl was somewhat impressed by the multi-tasking she handled so easily as she deftly pushed aside her thin lace underwear and guided him inside, all without breaking contact with his lips for a moment. He gripped her slender hips tightly, burying his face in her hair as the sensation overwhelmed him. It had been far too long to wait for an activity they had regularly partaken in since the day they'd met. He nipped the delicate skin where her slender throat met her shoulder and she shivered, her head tipping back and her hips jerking slightly.
It was over quickly, the tension releasing as they fought to catch their breath. Cassidy left her arms around his neck, her face against his shoulder as she inhaled his achingly familiar scent. In moments like this, she felt human again. Daryl could feel her heart beating rapidly against his chest, her slender toned warmth cradled against his body. She seemed almost fragile when they lay like this, silent and peaceful as if the dead weren't walking somewhere beneath them.
"They'll be looking for us." She murmured into his shoulder, tracing a line of tempting kisses along the length of his throat.
He wanted to unclip her bra, he wanted to strip his jeans and continue what they had started properly. But she was right. She leaned back so she could see his face, her eyes fixed on his intently. She brushed her fingertips over his lips. Then she drew back and frowned slightly. He blinked at her, watching as the surprise on her face melted into amusement. She tossed her head back and laughed, the vibrations of her body rippling through him where he still lay inside her. He fought to ignore the sensation and concentrate on what she found so funny. Eventually, she managed to straighten her face and lift her hands. There was soot all over her. Daryl touched his mouth and looked at his own hands. Black.
They glanced down simultaneously, taking in the black handprints he had left on her bare bronzed skin. He grimaced, catching sight of the black handprints she had left on his chest and arms. She found it hysterical and the sight of her, so angry and injured for so long, laughing uproariously took the sting out of it for him. She reached up to knot her hair back from her face again, feeling him stiffening inside her as her breasts rose with her movements. She squirmed slightly and he scowled.
"I wish we had more time, redneck." She sighed, rolling her hips lazily until he had to grab her and hold her still.
"Gotta take what we can get, Red."
She laughed, rolling her eyes as she lifted herself off him and scrambled into her jeans.
"Just what a girl wants to hear." She grumbled cheerfully. "You've got a real way with words there, Dixon."
They gathered their scattered clothing and made their way back down into the yard. It had been a nice break from reality for a while. Rick ambled over with Glenn and Michonne in tow. Rick tried valiantly to ignore the soot that covered them from head to toe and made it more than obvious exactly what they'd been doing up there. Michonne merely raised an eyebrow at Cassidy who shrugged. Subtlety was not Glenn's strong point, however, and he gaped at them with his mouth open.
"What were you doing in the watchtower?" He blurted, glancing up at the burnt out hulk above them.
"The same thing you do." She snapped rudely and Glenn flushed a brilliant shade of stop-sign red.
"Oh." He said lamely, looking avidly at the floor.
Apparently a quickie in the watchtower was all it took to put Cassidy into a good mood because she slung an arm around a startled Michonne's shoulders and winked at Rick.
"Alright then, Sheriff. What's next on the list to make this hell hole a post-apocalyptic castle?"
Rick's mouth opened and closed and he stared at Daryl helplessly. Daryl shrugged. Why did everyone think that he could decipher this girl? He didn't have a clue.