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Bigtimerushlover101, jasminedragonemployee (stop making me laugh like an idiot), and padme4000.
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CHAPTER SEVEN.
DON'T BE SUCH A BABY.
Taylor quietly crept along the dimly lit pathway with soft steps, not wanting to risk being heard by any of the sleeping occupants of the tents she was passing. She squinted to get a view of the fire up ahead and tried her hardest to not trip over anything. The only light was the partial illumination from the waxing moon hanging high above her. She glanced up at it with a small appreciative smile because it truly was a beautiful night out. Momentarily her mind glided back to her fiancé and how she would probably be spending a night out with him if the world hadn't gone to shit. The thought quickly dissipated whenever she spotted a shadow lurking by the campfire, her body went stiff and she held her breath tightly.
"What are you doing up?" The voice that came from the very much alive body made her release the pocket of air held in her lungs. Her shoulders relaxed immediately as his deep voice calmed her.
"I could ask you the same thing," she let the fleeting notion that he could have been a stray walker slowly fade away as she approached the campfire. As if one invasion a day wasn't enough.
"You shouldn't be out walking by yourself," he noted aloud while attempting to conceal a small box behind his back. She tracked his now hidden hands and kept her eyes locked there until she plopped down in the seat next to him.
"I can take care of myself, contrary to popular belief," she said flatly. "What do you have?" She tentatively put her hands out in a cupped form, like she was waiting for change. He let out a small chuckle and rolled his eyes at her, handing it over begrudgingly. Rick had a feeling that she was not going to stop until he caved. She grinned victoriously and examined the little white box before gingerly opening it. There was nothing more than a needle, thread, and gauze all packed neatly inside. She rose an eyebrow at him but figured it was a makeshift emergency care kit that he had scrounged up around the campsite.
"Oh my god!" She shut it quickly and reached for his arm with a little gasp. She rolled up his sleeve without permission. He watched her with careful eyes but did not protest.
"It's fine," he told her with a small smirk. He was hoping everyone that was at the shoot out would just forget that he had been hit. It really didn't bother him much, it stung a little, but he had been shot in the chest before so retrospect would say that being grazed by a bullet was less than a flesh wound.
"I can't believe I forgot," she inwardly cursed herself for letting something like that slip her mind so easily. He could tell her it was no big deal until he was blue in the face but she did not plan on letting it go. "Does it hurt?" She brushed her fingers gently across the long, horizontal wound and pulled back hastily once he winced.
"I told you it's fine," he started to roll his sleeve back down when she placed her hand on his to stop him.
"I can stitch it for you," she whispered quietly, her eyes never leaving the injury.
"You know how?" She nodded as she put the tip of the needle into the fire for crude sterilization. She would have preferred to have a back up of anti-bacterial disinfectant, but beggars couldn't be choosers at this point. When she didn't say anything he continued, "be my guest…"
She smiled warmly at him and drowned the gauze in the bucket of water near the chairs. She guided it smoothly on the bullets path.
"This is going to hurt," she mumbled while futilely trying to thread the string through the small needle hole. Once it was finally through, after minutes worth of struggling, she let out a deep breath that completely drained her lungs of all air. She was mumbling something to herself that he couldn't quite hear but grinned at her nervousness. It wasn't like she could really hurt him anymore than he had been in the last few weeks.
"One, two-" She stuck the needle in before counting to three, just as a surprise to both herself as well as him. He made a face but readjusted in his seat once she actually started the threading process. "Don't be such a baby," she joked noticing that he had barely flinched when she knew that it did indeed hurt with no numbing agent.
"So, not that I'm suggesting you don't know what you're doing," she looked up at him from under her lashes with a small smirk, "but where did you learn this? Were you a nurse?" She noticed his face had started to become a little pale.
"No," she scoffed and squinted to get a better look at what she was doing, the light from the fire was not providing much help. "My grandmother."
"She taught you?"
"I went to work with her sometimes… when I ran away from home," she frowned as she continued to sew the wound together.
"Oh… I don't wanna pry but why-" he stopped mid-sentence when she shook her head.
"My mother was a druggie and my father," he could tell she was fighting back tears as her voice became brittle, "he was an alcoholic. My grandmother took me to work with her all the time and I learned a little of this and that."
"You're really good," he said quietly, unable to think of anything to say to keep her from breaking down in front of him. He hated to see people cry, especially girls, it had always been a weakness for him. He would never want to admit it but he was pretty sure that Lori had used it to her advantage more than once in their marriage.
"I have an excellent patient," she said quietly with a hint of a smile returning.
"This is probably going to seem personal again," he started, still watching her as she gracefully sewed him up, "but are you pregnant?" He heard a small gasp escape from her but she didn't stop or look at him.
"No, why?"
"I just mean, the uh, t-throwing up," he began to stumble over his own words wishing he wouldn't have even asked. His attempt to change the subject was futile and embarrassing to them both. He wasn't even sure how it popped into his head in the first place.
"I was just uneasy thinking about what happened… plus that's down right impossible," her tone was confusing to him and he could not decipher it.
"You're not uh…?"
"No," she giggled and narrowed her eyes again trying to focus with the still dim light. "Not that it's any of your business, Mr. Grimes, but I am not doing anything with anyone," she refrained from rolling her eyes at his silly interest in her sexual innuendos.
"Not Daryl?" He wanted to slap himself in the forehead for bringing him up after her confessions to him in the alley, but he seemed to have a bad case of word vomit that would not go away.
"Not even Daryl," he could hear the disappointment in her voice and immediately regretted his decision to ask. "So, no. Not pregnant." There was a few moments of silence before she spoke again.
"Done," she said changing tack. She tied the thread a few times and bit it off as close to the skin as she could. He felt a small tingle on the back of his neck as her fingers skimmed over the now freshly stitched lesion.
Thinking back to the talk of her childhood made her frown reappear, she felt the tears begin to prickle at her eyes and before she could make a getaway the dam opened. The waterworks began to pour out uncontrollably as she doubled over and covered her face in shame. Rick grimaced at the sight of her crying and knew his previous prodding of either her past or Daryl was the cause.
"Please stop crying," he rubbed her back in an attempt to console her. When the sobbing didn't cease like he had expected, he chalked it up to him not being the best at cheering people up. He let out a small sigh of sympathy.
"I'm not crying… I have something in both my eyes."
"Yeah, they're called tears," he said quietly. He barely knew her but watching her break down at his account broke his heart, he often wished he wasn't so empathetic.
"No, it's like makeup-"
"You're not wearing makeup," he quickly corrected her.
"Or an eyelash, or a leaf, smoke, bugs… I don't know. Shut up," He couldn't help but snicker at her unsuccessful attempt of lying. She sat up and gave him a dirty look when she realized he was laughing at her.
"I'm sorry I asked," his tone had become serious and sincere. Her lips slowly turned upwards into a tiny smile as he wiped the tears away with his thumb.
"It's not your fault I had a shitty childhood," her voice was merely a whisper but at the very least he had gotten her to stop crying. Taylor tried her best to ignore the goose bumps that arose when his skin met hers. It was easier said than done to disregard the feeling.
"I have an idea." He smiled now with his oh-so-contagious grin that made a similar one appear on her face as well. He took out a flashlight from beside him and waved it in front of her.
"Did you steal that from the Winnebago?" Her eyes widened at the precious commodity that was a little more than scarce these days. "Dale is going to be pissed."
"Don't you worry about old Dale, I can handle him." She giggled at his comment and his grin grew wider.
"So, what were you thinking?" She tucked a stray strand of bright blonde hair behind her ear with a skeptical look on her face. She was not sure where he was going with this.
"I was thinking we should go for a swim," he stated matter-of-factly. She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, unsure if it was some kind of trick.
"At the quarry? You think it's safe?" Her tone remained unconvinced at the thought of them going down by themselves, at night nonetheless. She knew Lori would not be pleased and Daryl would probably blow a gasket. She mulled it over for a few seconds before deciding that she was sick of always making her decisions based on what he did and didn't want her doing.
"I'm pretty good with a gun, not to brag," his voice brought her back to reality. "We have a light," he handed the flashlight over to her which only made her beam in triumph. He was letting her be in charge of something for once, take that Daryl, she thought to herself with a snippy attitude. Rick grabbed his pistol off the table and tucked in securely into his holster.
"Oh, and you have me," he winked which made a lopsided smirk replace the smile. He couldn't help but be a little thrilled that he was successful at making her chipper manner return.
"Okay, deal. But if you keep going Mr. Cocky on me I will be forced to go summer camp on you and steal your clothes and hang them up for all of the camp to see. And! You'll have to walk back with just your underwear. How embarrassing," she returned his wink from earlier and he shook his head as her ridiculous imagination ran wild.
"Fair enough," he said while trying to bite back a laughter that he was sure would wake up some of the nearby occupants. They began to walk in unison and she flicked the flashlight on to start their adventure.
Shane speculatively watched Rick and Taylor leave on an unknown endeavor. The thought to stop them momentarily crossed his mind but he let it flow right back out because it just gave him an opportunity of his own. He tugged lightly on the zipper to the tent to make sure he wouldn't wake Carl up. He peaked in and noticed Lori roll over with eyes wide.
"What are you doing?" She whisper-shouted at him in anger at his blatant intrusion.
"I came to ask you something," his voice was quiet as well.
"Where's Rick?" Her eyes darted around the tent nervously as she had no clue what was going on. One minute she was sound asleep in the arms of her husband, and the next her ex-lover was barging in to wake her up.
"He's over by the fire… drinking," he said lying through his teeth without hesitation. "I'll only be here for a minute," he promised which seemed to make her more compliant.
"Okay," she ran a hand through her hair in exasperation. She was praying he was not already expecting an answer to his stay or go question.
"Listen, I don't want to rush you," he said while practically reading her mind, "but I do want to make sure you understand how serious I am about us." He fiddled in his pocket and Lori knew something was up immediately, she could tell he was nervous- that was very unlike him.
"Shane, I-"
"Shhh," he let one hand stroke the side of her face while the other finally retrieved what he had been fishing for all along. He took out the small black box and held it shakily in his palm.
"Shane…" He couldn't tell if she was shocked, mad, confused, it could have been all three if he wasn't mistaken. "Where did you…?" Her voice trailed off as she opened it slowly. She let out a little gasp once she saw it in all it's glory. It was the most beautiful ring she had ever seen. Hell, if she was going to be honest it was bigger, and more gorgeous, than the one Rick had gotten her.
"When did you get this?" She asked, chocking on the lump that had grown in her throat. Her strained voice let him know that crying was imminent.
"I've had it for awhile…" he confessed softly.
"For me?" He nodded slowly not wanting to speak in case she would sense the impending tears of his own. He would be damned if he let her see him cry.
"But, how? Why?" She searched his eyes for answers since he was suddenly struck mute. He opened and closed his mouth a few times apparently trying to determine the right words to say.
"Lori, I've been in love with you for a long time," he felt the profession begin to tumble out and there was no going back. "Ever since you and Rick started having problems… since you were both seriously considering divorce." He felt his mouth go dry and it seemed harder than ever to just form a simple sentence. "I've wanted you to be mine for so long and once you two started fighting… I would never wish any of you, Carl included, to go through that… but it was like a window of opportunity opened up. I thought I was finally going to have you." He sucked in a deep breath feeling rather winded after the speech.
"These last few weeks…?" Realization began to sink in deep as to how much their short lived time together actually meant to him. He really, truly loved her.
"I cherished every minute," he let her try the ring on and her eyes danced as it glistened from the moonlight alone.
"So, no. I'm not saying you need to make a decision right this second… but I want you to know that I mean it when I say I love you, with every inch of my heart, I do."
Taylor moved forward until she was standing in the knee deep section of water and Rick caught himself mindlessly giving her a little more than a once over. His assessment of the typical cheerleader cliche look was not far off base; with the long blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, slim frame with curves in all the right places, beautiful face… Rick shook his head and forcefully reminded himself that he had a beautiful wife of his own back at camp. A wife he suspected was fooling around his "best friend".
"Hello?" She waved her hand in front of his face a few times for dramatic effect. He gave his head a slight shake again to bring himself back. "Zoning out?" She had moved while he was daydreaming to just a few inches away from him. He looked down with a faint smile at her dripping wet, hair clinging to her shoulders, pouty appearance. Their icy blue gazes locked as she returned a wane smile of her own. He could not stop admiring her, maybe it was the fact that deep down he knew Lori was currently being unfaithful. Maybe it was the lack of food, water, sleep… sex. Then again, maybe it wasn't.
She broke the temporary staring contest to bend over and slip on her boots. "Thanks," she whispered, standing upright again so they were face to face. Her breathing was slightly labored and shallow as the atmosphere constricted and became heavy around them. He reached out for her face, and much to his chagrin she backed up a step. She could barely catch her breath at that point, his proximity was too close, his hand too close.
He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply thinking back to the time that he had slipped up and cheated on Lori. He remembered the gut wrenching guilt he felt after and how he could not live with that again. Could he? Would it be the same now, knowing what she's been doing- is still probably doing- behind his back?
Taylor eyed him carefully the entire time, knowing full well that he was in a world of his own, conflicting feelings abound. She titled her head to the side a little and wanted desperately to know what he was thinking.
"Rick?" She mumbled softly unsure if he could hear her. His eyes slowly opened once he heard her but his scolding inner voice remained.
Control yourself!
I cannot slip again.
"Rick?" She tried again and his hand shot back out, stroking the side of her face gently, but she did not back away this time. Her compliance made him furrow his eyebrows in confusion: now she was okay with it? He watched her lick her lips before biting the bottom one. He'd be damned if she wasn't giving him the pouty look on purpose; she was not making this easy. A mantra began playing over and over in his head and he started to feel suffocated with the decision enveloping him.
I cannot slip again.
I cannot slip again.
I cannot slip again.
I cannot slip again.
I cannot slip…