Brazen Hussy - You know, I've noticed your review's are all Merle centric...and I dig it! ^_^ (BTW, Merle could have any lady he wants...because he's a Dixon). Thanks again for the kind review!
Surplus Imagination - Hehe! I'm so glad you caught that little comment about the trip wire...no one else seemed to notice how much subtlety the Lt used to get one in there...at the very least with Andrea back we have someone to be walker fodder if things get intense...o_O Did I type that? Yipes.
KrisAnthemum221 - Haha, I do the same thing...if I...*ahem* you know...condescended to look at that sort of smuttery.
GG - Aw, I know that feeling, my mom passed away nearly three years ago at the age of fifty from cancer (proceeded the year before by my grandfather and the year after by my grandmother). The C word is a huge mega-bitch. Anyways, enough about me...I actually think Michonne might have a bit of respect for the nuns, but as always she'd be contemptuous of who carefree they exist. I think she'd try to wake them up to realty a bit.
Axelrocks - French homework? What's that like? (Yes, that's all I took from your comment...j/k) Norman Reedus is a good person to do a mock-interview with...I'd do it in the style of the gentleman who was interviewing John Lennon for his love-in...except I'd get in the bed with him... (sometimes I think I share too much...I have a feeling this was one of those moments).
MollyMayhem84 - Yeah, Andrea is a C-word (this time I'm not talking about Cancer). Imagine me writing her into a story and not killing her off...yet. *glares in the general direction of nothing, because who or what would I be glaring at?*
urm anonymous - Gah, I'm peachy! Love ya back...erm...six eva? (is not cool enough to get what you were pitching) Anyways, thanks a heap for the review! ^_^
AFishNamedSushi - Still awaiting that update...*impatient glare*^_^ I'm sure there's a point where Daryl will just throw his hands up and let whoever wants to beat Merle about the head to just have at 'er. He must get sick of stepping in to stop Merle from fighting with everyone.
spygrrl99 - Ah, you have asked the most important question since Edgar Allan Poe posed the query 'People like long assed poems about bells, right? Guys?'. VAN-COO-nee-ay, is how you'd pronounce it. Thanks for playing.
Rodan78 - Well, thank you. I'm kind of excited to write Michonne and Merle locking horns at some point too. ^_^ Thanks for the review!
Hey, guys, I just realized that after this update my story will probably be AU...what with that show with all those people with bad skin being back on Sunday...no I wasn't talking about Jersey Shore. I don't even know what that is...you kids with your rock and roll eight track tapes...
Anyways, I hope you don't mind this being tragically AU after Sunday...I just hope to God it's a good episode...if it's a lemon I'm going to write a very strongly worded letter to the Walking Dead writers and then leave it tucked inside a flaming bag of shit on their front porch *crazy face*
Oh Holy Hell, I should not write my forwards at two in the morning while under the spell of a flu fever...
Chapter Twenty-Four: Misère
**Carol**
The rich dark soil of the convent gardens was still moist from the rain they had gotten a few days ago, it wasn't muddy, but it was cool and soft.
Carol had always loved the feel of dirt under her fingernails. Even before the world went to pot, she enjoyed getting out of the house and Ed's constant hovering to work in her small garden.
Of course, gardening now was vastly different, not only because it wasn't just a hobby anymore, but because she didn't have Sophia to follow behind her with the watering can to douse the freshly seeded earth liberally.
Instead, Carol was followed by a nun wearing a summer dress with a cherry pattern and a large floppy, straw hat.
In the shade of a nearby peach tree, Beth sat with Judith, Annie and the dog, trying to keep both Annie and Judith entertained long enough so that the adults could finish planting the rows of vegetables.
The Mother Superior emerged from the dorms carrying a heavy pail of potatoes that had gone to seed in their root cellar in one hand, a heavy looking hoe in the other.
On the wall the priest passed by, rifle in hand, eyes on the world beyond the heavy brick barrier.
Carol recalled feeling this comfortable once, back on the Greene farm.
She also recalled how badly that had ended.
Quietly following Sister Mary Claire as the nun made a groove in the dirt with the handle of a spade, Carol dropped in the germinated beans that Daryl and the Lieutenant had brought back for the Sisters from one of their first runs, the slightly sweet, fetid stench of the water the beans had been soaking in getting to her in the heat of the Georgian afternoon.
She understood how the nuns had so much canned vegetables now, just by eyeing the bare patch of earth that lay half in shade from the peach tree and half in the sun just between the garden shed and the dorms. It was a good sized plot and each row was devoted entirely to a particular vegetable.
Beans, peas, carrots, onions all got their own rows, potatoes and corn got two or three each. In the corner nearest the dorms was a patch of rhubarb, a thicket of strawberries pushing up through the earth in the corner by the garden shed.
Carol could have honestly spent the rest of her life in that garden making things grow.
But there was an absence. An empty spot behind her, reminding her that as free as she was now without Ed looming, she wasn't ever going to have that world she used to dream about.
Leveling her chin with the ground, she bowed her head back to her work, looking up only when the pail of potatoes was dropped and the Mother Superior was scrabbling after the dog who had taken off after one of Sister Gertrude's cats.
"Oh no, you don't!" The head nun cried, scooping the dog up deftly and holding it as it squirmed for release. "Not across our newly seeded garden, little lady!"
From where he was planting the cucumbers, Herschel looked up and laughed. "That girl needs a leash for her pup." He pointed out warmly.
The Mother Superior handed the dog back to Annie, who could barely carry the thing. "What we need is for that Cajun to stop bringing home strays." She stated.
Carol knew the woman was joking, but it only reminded her that they were quite probably a huge burden on the woman and her group.
The woman seemed to notice her poor choice in words and touched a hand to her chest. "I didn't mean it like that," she said softly. "If anything I'm happy to have the company…the extra hands don't hurt either." She went on with a smile, motioning to the garden.
"I don't mind," Carol replied, moving with Sister Mary Claire, dropping beans into the groove. "Keeps my mind occupied and my hands busy."
Holding out a worn old pair of gardening gloves to her, the nun smiled. "Here, honey, you can use these old gloves."
"I'm okay." Carol replied. She never liked wearing gloves while gardening, it desensitized her to the intricate tasks of the job. She only ever wore them when pulling the stubborn patch of Russian thistle that used to grow in the shady end of her garden plot.
"Mother Superior?" The youngest nun asked, coming to a neat stop at the very edge of the garden. "Have you seen Sister Gertrude?"
"No, I haven't, did you check her room? She was feeling a little under the weather this morning, I gave her time off from her chores for a rest."
"She isn't there."
"Maybe she's out back feeding her cats, heaven knows she likes to dote on those creatures."
"She wasn't there either. I thought maybe she'd be in the kitchen, we're supposed to get lunch ready soon."
Carol wiped her hands off and stood up as Sister Mary Claire stopped her work to eye the conversation.
"Well, she has to be somewhere. Poor thing can't get far these days." Seeing the young nuns worried face, the Mother Superior smiled sweetly and touched her shoulder. "Don't worry, honey, we'll find her. She might have just gone to commune."
The young nun nodded. "Okay. I'll keep looking."
"Thank you. We'll keep an eye out as well."
Exchanging a glance with Beth and Herschel, Carol touched her hands to her ass, wiping the dirt off them completely on her pants. It used to be you would wash them in a nice clean bathroom or with the garden hose, but times being what they were…
"Maybe we should look around for her," Carl suggested from where he was watering the row that Herschel was planting, setting down the watering can.
A scream coming from the back of the church had Carol grabbing the nearest thing to a weapon she could find, which happened to be the spade that Sister Mary Claire had left forgotten on the ground near her.
She ran without thinking towards the source of the screams, followed by the others. Beth staying behind with the children, watching nervously as the others tore off.
The lot of them thundered around the corner of the church to find a Sister Mary Monica on the ground by the back gate, Sister Gertrude in her habit huddled over her.
The younger nun was screaming as her intestines were being pulled from her stomach like a never ending handkerchief trick by the older nun, who was greedily shoving them into her mouth.
Without thinking Carol gripped the spade and stepping forward slammed the metal edge against Sister Gertrude's temple, knocking the walker-nun off Sister Mary Monica. She didn't stop hitting the woman until the walker was still, hand still clenched around intestine.
Shaking in shock, Sister Mary Monica fell deathly still at almost the same moment as the walker-nun fell.
Wiping thick, dark walker blood off her forehead with her wrist, Carol eyed the scene for a moment. The two dead nuns and a torn apart cat that was nothing more than fluff and gore, before taking the spade to Sister Mary Monica's head without hesitation. Before winter had set in she would have hesitated, offered kind words of comfort to the nuns, but she knew how attached people were to the bodies of loved ones and thought it best to just get it over with, ensure no further mistakes happened.
Turning around she found Herschel hobbling up, slowed down some by his missing limb, the small group of nuns who had followed her looking on with horrified faces. Only Carl and Sasha were steady and calm, eyeing the mess quietly.
"She must have passed away in her sleep," Carol offered the nuns softly. "I'm sorry."
The Mother Superior held her hand to her mouth. After a shell shocked moment, the woman removed it, mouth moving, but nothing coming out.
Behind her the youngest nun fell to her knees and vomited onto the grass, as the two other nuns who followed them backed away slowly from the whole mess.
Father O'Rourke joined them on the wall, eyeing the scene with a grim set mouth. Running a hand through his tousled brown hair, he hopped down, handing the rifle off to Sister Mary Agnes.
"I'll dig the graves." He said. "Take my watch."
The woman made no effort to move.
Sasha stepped forward from where she joined them, taking the rifle. "I'll take your watch."
Father O'Rourke nodded his thanks, taking the bloody spade from Carol.
Sister Mary Agnes and Mary Claire turned tail and ran for the front of the church, followed by a sobbing Sister Mary Elizabeth.
The only living nun to remain at the scene was the Mother Superior who continued to remain in her spot.
"I'm sorry," Carol repeated, touching the woman's shoulder gingerly.
Looking to the sky, the woman seemed to be thinking something over for a brief moment, before nodding. "Me too."
..-~-..
..-~-..
Carol and Herschel did their best to finish the gardening while the nuns buried their dead, they didn't get much done between watching Judith and distracting Annie, as Beth took over the front gate for Sister Joan who reacted a lot more staunchly at the news than they had expected.
With Judith in the sling Daryl had fashioned for her and covered from the sun, Carol tried to make a straight groove for Herschel, but it wasn't easy with one free hand and Herschel wasn't the best at keeping upright in the soft soil. Only Carl seemed to be pulling his weight, moving behind them with the watering can, stepping on the earth to cover the seeds that Herschel dropped.
Knowing the seeds had to get into the ground that day, they kept on.
It was around the time just before the sun began setting that Glenn and the others returned from their supply run and they had more hands to help get the garden in. It was at that time too that Father O'Rourke relieved Sasha from the wall, telling her that the nuns were going to sequester themselves in the church for the remainder of the night to pray for the dead.
They finished the garden just as the sun turned to liquid gold in the Western sky, the light spreading out across the horizon just beyond the trees of the woods that protected the convent from prying eyes.
Taking Judith in one hand and Annie's hand in her other, Carol headed for the dorms. She didn't want either of them out of her sight, not until she felt safe again within the walls.
..-~-..
..-~-..
Beth and Carol made food that night, while the men seemed to go overboard with the patrols. It was silly to walk around with weapons in a place that was secure from the outside world, but with an attack coming from within, everyone was on edge.
Keeping one eye on Annie and Judith in the corner of the kitchen and another on the meal she was preparing kept Carol occupied. She didn't dare make the same mistake that she had with Sophia.
Annie, with that child-like intuition that told her that night wasn't a good one to misbehave on, kept quiet and self-entertained between trying to have a tea party with Boo and trying to keep Judith happy in the empty kitchen drawer they placed her in.
Boo, having been outside the walls, kept very close to Annie and Judith as well, perhaps sensing that something had happened that warranted her to keep a watchful eye over the human that secreted her scraps of food from her plate and the tiny thing that squirmed and cooed and fascinated her so.
Sounds of footsteps approaching had Carol glancing over her shoulder.
Glenn stepped into the kitchen looking beat down and in need of a good rest.
Forcing a smile in his direction, Carol continued on, keeping her eyes split between the children and the meal. She had been hoping it was Daryl. They were supposed to be back by now. Not to say she felt something bad happened, but she was hoping his presence would make her feel a little safer after what happened.
Not to belittle Glenn's abilities. He was perhaps one of her favourite people, because he was so underestimated. And she knew he could protect them. The young man seemed to have many skills he kept hidden when it came to handling the walkers.
"The Sisters are refusing to eat tonight." He said softly.
Carol nodded. "I'm sure the leftovers will be okay for breakfast for them tomorrow then."
Removing the battered baseball cap he had found while out on the supply run, the Asian hesitated at her side. "I heard you swing a mean spade."
She knew he was trying to make her feel a little less horrible about the incident, so she offered him a small grin. "I sort of reacted without really thinking."
"Isn't that a good thing these days?" He asked.
"Is Father O'Rourke eating?"
"Yeah. I think he's keeping a pretty cool head in all this, to be honest. Actually," Glenn leaned in, "between you and me I think he used to be a thug or something for the mob."
That managed to get a small, breathy laugh from Carol.
"I'm serious, got a flash of a tat on his neck yesterday. Think it was a pistol." Glenn hopped up onto the counter beside her.
It felt better knowing Glenn was facing the direction of the children as Carol put more concentration on cooking with him there.
Behind her Beth dropped a pan and cursed softly, Carl stepping out of the shadows where he must have been following Glenn to pick it up for her.
Carol eyed the young man. He had come a long way from the boy he was when they first met, he was more like his father every day.
"I kind of feel bad for the Sisters," Glenn went on gently. "They seemed like the last of the innocents, you know?"
Reaching out, Carol touched his knee warmly. "They're a lot stronger than they look," she said. "It'll give them some things to think about, but I think they'll be okay. Who knows, it may make them stronger, more wary."
Glenn nodded, eyeing her carefully.
Carol knew that look. People got it whenever she talked about loss and coming out stronger. She hadn't had anyone look at her like that in months though. It felt oddly comforting.
"I just wish it didn't have to be like this for them." He huffed. "I wish it didn't have to be like this for any of us."
"You're about eight months too late on the wistful thinking, Glenn."
The young man laughed. "Yeah."
Stirring the vegetable soup so it didn't burn, Carol glanced over to check on the children quickly, finding Annie stroking Judith's soft, downy hair and humming to her quietly.
"You know what's really messed up?" Glenn went on. "I'm kind of glad I wound up with all of you. Rick and Daryl and you and Maggie." He grinned shyly. "Best cobbled together family-like group an ex-pizza boy like me could ask for."
"Yeah, I especially like the uncle who brings us squirrel to eat almost daily," Carl retorted dryly from his spot near Beth.
Carol laughed at the boy's dry humour.
"Nothing wrong with squirrel," Tyreese said joining them with his group close behind. "It's when they start bringing you day old road kill raccoon that you begin to wish for fresh squirrel."
Smiling at them, Carol gestured to the small kitchen table. "You may as well grab a seat in here. I think dinner's going to be informal tonight."
"Thank you." He replied, pulling a chair out for Sasha. "Now that we're talking about squirrel, I kind of have a craving for it."
"Unfortunately for you its meatless canned vegetable soup." Carol replied, dishing some out for Glenn to take to the others.
"Fortunately for you," Tyreese returned. "They used to call me 'The Goat', because I'll eat anything."
The Cajun Dialect
Misère – Misery, trouble.