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 One
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
"That looks like hard work."
Lochie jumped, the wet sheet in her hand slipping into a pile at her feet. She glanced irritably over her shoulder. One of the Woodbury survivors was blinking at her sheepishly, his cheeks flushed bright red. He was surprisingly young, sandy hair cut short at the back and curling wildly over his forehead and big dark eyes.
"Hi." Lochie said lamely, taken aback by an attractive young man appearing as if by magic in the prison.
"Hi." His cheeks seemed to get even redder and she fought a smile, ducking to gather the wet sheets up.
"I'm Shea." He offered, half ducking to help even though she was already rising to her feet again.
"Lochie."
They fell into an awkward silence as Lochie unfurled the sheet again and set about pinning it out to dry. When she was done, Shea was looking at her shyly.
"You're from Woodbury?" She asked politely, digging the next sheet out of the basket at her feet.
"Yes." Shea chewed his lip uncomfortably. "I – uh… got left behind."
He indicated his leg and she blinked, noticing the bloody bandage around his calf for the first time.
"I'm sorry." She said automatically, blushing when she realised that apologising to him for his not being able to be present at an attempted massacre of her people, a fact which may have saved him from being killed by a one-eyed lunatic, may have just somehow made this conversation even more awkward. "About your leg?" She finished quietly.
"Oh… thanks." Shea tipped his head to stare at his leg thoughtfully. "I got bitten."
Lochie recoiled sharply and he shook his head frantically.
"Oh! No, no! A dog." He stammered. "A dog bit me." He laughed nervously when she smiled in relief. "A guard dog."
She nodded, finishing hanging out the bedding to dry.
"Good." She said honestly. "Not good you got bitten by a guard dog, obviously." She laughed shrilly. "Good it was only a dog."
He nodded and flashed her a smile.
"So, you're part of the Sheriff's crew?" Shea asked and she glanced up at him warily.
They had welcomed the Woodbury survivors to the prison and were working to bring everyone together, but there was still something of a trust issue of course. As if speaking of him had summoned him, Rick turned the corner with Carol. Their conversation trailed off and Carol exchanged a look with Rick before disappearing back towards the yard.
"Lochie."
Rick circled around Shea and stood beside her, eyeing the young man suspiciously. Lochie looked at Rick warily. He hadn't spoken to her properly since Lori had died. He hadn't spoken to anyone properly since then, really.
"This is Shea." Lochie introduced the two men stiffly, watching as the two of them went through a shortened version of the same conversation.
Shea was eyeing Rick as if he expected him to shoot him at any minute; his face was white as he explained himself. Lochie marvelled as Rick politely and subtly informed Shea that he was welcome here, but he would need to put up with a minor level of suspicion until the storm had passed. Shea glanced at Lochie, who offered him a smile.
"See you around, Lochie." He said sadly, turning and limping towards the main yard.
Rick found himself quite alone with Lochie, who was eyeing him guardedly as if she wasn't quite sure what to expect. He admitted he might deserve that.
"I'm sorry, Sheriff." She said suddenly, her eyes big and genuine. "For Lori, for Andrea. For everything."
He nodded gruffly but didn't reply. It was too hard to speak of Lori, of everything that had happened and everything that wasn't said that should have been. He was taken by surprise as Lochie wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him tightly. He hesitated, before returning the embrace. His guilt flickered hotter than ever but he also drew comfort from the well-intentioned hug. One of the things he loved about Lochie, was how open she was. She meant everything she said and she wore her heart on her sleeve. If she gave him a hug it was genuinely meant to give comfort and nothing more.
"I thought we'd lost you." She whispered shyly. "We all did."
"Not quite."
She tilted her head to look at him and her eyes were watery as she chewed on her bottom lip. He forced a sheepish smile that she didn't buy for a second. He could feel her soft pliant body pressed against him, her innocent pretty face hovering beneath his. It was so tempting, he found he couldn't resist. She made a tiny noise of surprise when his mouth came down on hers, then she melted against him. For a few brief moments, he managed to push the darkness from his mind for the first time in weeks and he clutched her tightly against him. She kissed him back quite happily but she knew he could feel her holding back slightly. She didn't know if he was kissing her because he wanted to or because he needed to forget.
Daryl dodged around a group of doddering oldies and beat a hasty retreat before they could corner him. He had used up all of his patience for the day already. He knew Cassidy had been assigned to scope out and clear the lower passages of the prison with Michonne as they scrambled to secure the prison in case the Governor returned. He grabbed a flashlight and something that passed for lunch and headed out to find them.
He eventually found them by the fence. They had dragged all of the walkers they had taken out into a huge pile and set it on fire. Cassidy and Michonne were deep in conversation, sitting on the table of a rotting picnic bench a few feet from the greasy smoke. Daryl wondered what they were talking about, what on earth these two people could find to say to each other. He saw Cassidy tilt her head slightly as she registered his arrival, Michonne taking her cues from her companion and flicking her dark eyes over the redhead's shoulder.
Daryl crossed the grass and joined them, swinging his leg over to straddle the rickety bench. He handed out the food he had brought which neither woman thanked him for as they continued their conversation without pause. They seemed to be discussing where the Governor could have scurried off to. Cassidy was half turned away from him but her hand touched his thigh lightly, to let him know he wasn't excluded. Daryl ate his lunch in silence, enjoying the peace and quiet. If you ignored the smell and didn't look too closely, the fire could be any bonfire on a hazy afternoon.
Once their lunch was over, Michonne disappeared into the depths of the prison to find Rick. Cassidy leaned against Daryl, staring thoughtfully across at the bonfire as it crackled merrily.
"You think this is going to work?"
Daryl contemplated which exact "this" she was referring to without replying. Her braided hair smelt of sweat and smoke and her body was lithe and warm against him.
"Maybe." He said grudgingly, eyeing a cut on her bare shoulder absently.
He traced the healing cut with his fingertip, watching goosebumps flare on her naked skin around his fingertip curiously. She shifted slightly, leaning a little closer to him.
"It's a real paradise." She muttered as the screaming laughter of several children reached them faintly. "I think we're going to have to have a word with Rick about setting some rules."
Daryl drew his fingers down her bare shoulder, tickling the edge of her vest idly. He grunted to show he was listening, glancing over his shoulder to check if anyone was approaching them as his fingers drifted lower. She tensed slightly as his fingers brushed across the swell of her breast, then she relaxed into him.
"Redneck?"He made a low noise in his throat, his hand flattening against the plane of her flat stomach. "Let's go hunting."
"Well as plans go…"
Daryl grunted, squinting over her head into the distance. She had a point of course, as plans went getting ambushed by a particularly wily hoard of walkers and being forced into a muddy pond to wait them out was not exactly ideal. And as much as he'd like to blame her, he had been so distracted by the sight of her half naked, he hadn't noticed them approaching until it was almost too late. He'd just had time to throw her down into the water before they'd entered the little clearing in the trees. To her credit she hadn't struggled, she trusted him enough to know that he had not risked her wrath by tossing her head-first into stagnant pond water for nothing.
"Well I'm glad you're here, redneck." She snorted, startling him into looking back down at her.
She was still half naked. Her vest and shirt were hanging on a branch at the edge of the trees being thoroughly inspected by a huge walker. There was blood all over them from an encounter they'd had on their way through the trees. Whilst the walkers were staggering around, he'd managed to situate them under the rickety old hand-built wooden bridge that was clearly only meant for decoration. It wasn't the ideal cover but several wooden slats had tumbled away from it and provided a small degree of cover in the form of a makeshift cave under the bridge. They also kept the two of them from sinking straight past the pebbles and into the muddy ground.
"Ya shouldn't have got half naked out here." He growled quietly, turning his gaze away from her bare form and back towards the safer territory of the walkers.
"I don't recall hearing you complain at the time." Cassidy pointed out slyly.
This statement only succeeded in attracting his appreciative gaze again. Well she wasn't entirely topless, they had been taking their time and enjoying the privacy. He couldn't quite keep himself from eyeing the black lacy bra standing out against her pale skin. It could never escape his notice how her slender body curved or how her dripping mane of molten hair emphasised the high freckled cheekbones and the wicked green cat eyes, fringed by long curly lashes that were still star-fished from the cold pond water.
"Well, until you tackled me into the mud anyway." She snorted wryly.
He glowered.
"Ya welcome."
She rolled her eyes.
"You couldn't have grabbed my shirt on the way?"
He opened his mouth to retort but he closed it again when he realised that she wasn't being obnoxious for once, she was shivering. It was almost sunset and whilst the sun was hot, the pond was shaded by the tall trees and the water was almost frigid. Distracted by their predicament, he hadn't realised how cold he was until now. The water was waist high, their jeans were clinging to their legs and Daryl's sleeveless shirt was moulded to the ridges of his chest.
"Come here." He ordered gruffly, watching the distant walkers closely.
She eyed him in amusement, quite clearly enjoying him trying to order her around.
"Ya stay over there and you'll die of hypothermia." He snapped bluntly. She shifted a little and he hissed. "Slowly."
"Really, redneck? You don't say." She muttered blackly, lowering her hands gently into the water.
She used her hands to propel herself inch by inch across the pebbly floor of the pond, dark eyes fixed intently on the walkers. It seemed to take an interminably long time as she struggled to stay silent in the still water. She felt his hands, still surprisingly warm, grip her upper arms and guide her backwards until she was cradled quite intimately against him. She felt heat flare in her belly, her skin tingling as he encompassed her in his delicious bodyheat.
His big arms circled her shoulders and she felt the planes of his chest pressing against her shoulder blades. Her heart was pounding. She had always stood tall but with his long legs pulled up on either side of her, she felt tiny and delicate and more than a little vulnerable. The idea was intoxicating.
"Well this is romantic." She muttered after a while, once the heat from his body had started to warm her up again.
Daryl didn't reply. He was trying to puzzle out how they were going to get out of this alive. Her shivering had eased slightly and her small hands were gripping his biceps tightly. Her fingernails dug into his arms as she was seized by a rather violent shivering fit. He felt her coil in on herself, her muscles tightening into iron as she fought to restrain her spasming muscles from making too much noise in the still water.
"OK?" He growled against her hair, clutching her tightly to minimise the movements.
"I've been better." She bit out between clenched teeth.
Eventually the shaking stopped and she exhaled gratefully.
"Figures." She muttered. "Of all the ways to die out here I'm going to freeze to death hours from a bed, pressed up against a hot redneck, after which I'll probably end up as chow for that lot."
She gestured vaguely towards the walkers, looking unutterably cross at the prospect of her demise.
"Nice move dropping your crossbow again, Dixon." She muttered, glancing at the crossbow on the edge of the pond quite out of reach and in plain site of all the walkers milling around.
"Don't fucking start." He snapped, his arms tensing around her reflexively.
She shrugged, shifting her knees a little closer to her chest although the wet denim wasn't helping her warm up any. He had dropped his crossbow to relieve her of her shirt if he recalled correctly, and it had been out of his reach when the hoard made its sudden appearance.
"So theoretically, the cavalry's on the way right?"
He grunted and she frowned at him. While technically the others might try and look for them, they wouldn't stand a chance of actually finding them. Not one of them could find their way through the woods in the dark without him. Not mentioning the fact that the isolated clearing they'd found was almost seven miles in the opposite direction to where he usually hunted. They had wished for privacy and unfortunately, they had got it.
"The indignity of having to be rescued." Cassidy moaned, raising her eyes to the underside of the bridge in horror. "I will never live this down."
She glanced over at the walkers. None of them were venturing any closer but they weren't exactly leaving either. There was just too many of them when they were weaponless and she was cursing herself for letting herself get so distracted at the thought of a few hours alone with him, that she'd let her guard down.
"So." She tensed as the sound of the walkers got a little louder. "I could really use a drink right now, how about you?" She eased around a little until she could see him.
"You holding, Red?"
She stifled a laugh, tipping her head back against his shoulder.
"This is just typical, though." She murmured, watching the walkers multiply with every passing second through a gap in the wooden slats. "The universe just will not let us have a decent night in the sack."