Deanna sizes up the woman found amongst the Wolves; Sam gets his first shooting lesson from Daryl; and Carol engages in a contest of wills.
Pride
It's made up of lonely moments
There was always a moment there when I knew
You always gave installments
Always knew you concentrated and grew.
And I believe in reinvention
Do you believe that life is holding the clue?
Take away all the lonely moments
Give me full communication with you.
Your smile shines a little light, alright
Don't hide, shine a little light
Give up on your pride.
-"Pride," by Syntax
"And you were held by these...men...for how long?" Deanna asked the young woman sitting in the chair before her, watching her carefully.
"I'm not sure—what month is it?" Dr. Erin Yang asked, staring steadily back at the ASZ leader, her impatience showing in her tone and the tapping of her right toe.
"It's October. October twentieth." Deanna replied.
"Oh goodie, I didn't miss Halloween then." the doctor said with a sarcastic grin. "Though I think the monsters came a bit early for the party."
"Indeed." Deanna smiled back wryly, liking the woman's spirit.
"It was last spring—May—when they came and destroyed my camp and slaughtered everyone I knew." Erin said, quickly sobering the other woman, "That's only six months...huh...it felt like a whole lot more..." her eyes flicked over to Maggie who was sitting quietly in the corner, a sympathetic expression on her face.
"And yet you were spared." Deanna said contemplatively.
"I was in the middle of doing an amputation when they overwhelmed us." Yang recounted. "They decided having a doctor along for the ride would be a good idea."
"They killed everyone but you?" Maggie asked softly, with sympathy.
"Eventually." the doctor replied, looking away, out the window, her expression enigmatic.
"How many did you lose?" Erin asked, looking directly at Maggie now.
"Yesterday?" Maggie asked, raising an eyebrow, her meaning clear—yesterday was just one terrible day among many.
"Yeah—right—we've all lost a lot of people since this thing started." Erin gave her a little huff of commiseration.
"So you have no one to go back to?" Deanna asked. When Erin shook her head no, Deanna exchanged a look with her assistant.
"I know you have to be wary of me—traveling with the likes of them—but I can help you." Erin said, leaning forward, drawing their focus back to her.
"You don't believe we should spare any of the men we captured." Maggie said quickly before Deanna could speak.
"They are not men." the doctor said. Her hand rose involuntarily to the W that had been carved into her forehead. Her eyes lost focus, and her hand shook.
"Dr. Yang?" Deanna asked after
Erin lowered her hand quickly to her lap and took a deep breath.
"They're worse than the dead. The dead have no conscience, no ability to distinguish right from wrong. All they have is hunger. Like the animal—like real wolves. But these?" the young woman closed her eyes.
"None of them have any useful skills? Nothing worth trying to reform them—" Deanna asked.
"None of them." the doctor responded and then opened her eyes into Deanna's. "Every single one of them is a rapist. Each of them a murderer. Most are sadistic and get off on torturing and mutilating their victims. Causing degradation, pain and death is their entertainment."
"How many people have you killed?" Maggie asked.
Deanna looked at her sharply.
Yang tilted her head and then smiled slightly and nodded at the appropriateness of the question.
"Three. Since this all started. One because she asked me to, one because he was trying to kill me and the last because he was dying ugly and slow and back then I still had enough mercy in me to put animals who walked upright down."
"How many walkers?" Maggie asked.
"Walkers? You mean the dead? Too many to count." Erin replied. "There's an unending supply."
This time it was Maggie who nodded in agreement. She then looked to Deanna and they had a silent conversation culminating in Maggie rising and leaving the room.
"Would you be willing to make us a list of them? The Wolves? And their crimes?" Deanna asked.
"Of course." Erin replied quickly, but with a little grimace at the thought of reliving the atrocities she'd been witness to in the last half of a year.
Maggie came back into the room with a legal pad and a few pens. She sat at the table in the corner and Deanna motioned for the doctor to join her.
"So we're done here? No more questions?" Erin asked before she rose.
"I'm prepared to admit you to the ASZ on a trial basis. After you're done here, Maggie will take you to the Clinic to see patients, under supervision, if you are willing." Deanna said.
"And if I'm not?" Erin asked, curious. She'd been able to survive this long because of her medical skills; refusing to practice them would've meant exile or death in the other communities she'd lived in previously. She was only alive because she'd been useful.
"Then we'd find you other work to do. Everyone here contributes." Deanna said, narrowing her eyes. "But you don't seem to me to be the kind of person who would break her Hippocratic Oath, Dr. Yang."
Both women rose and Erin made her way to where Maggie was preparing to take down the list while Deanna turned off the video recorder and shifted it to point at the table to record their session.
"What will you do with them? The Wolves?" Erin asked as she pulled out a chair to sit down at the table, pausing to rest her hands on the back of it.
"That's for the Council to decide." Deanna told her, but looked troubled. She knew this was one of the most important decisions the community they were trying to build here would face. Justice was as slippery as an eel in this new world order.
Morgan's plan seemed to have succeeded, but had left them with over two dozen captives. Imprisoning people over long periods just wasn't practical. They would use up valuable resources that the rest of the population would need in the coming winter.
Banishment wasn't an option—they would just rejoin those who had escaped and become a threat again. A just society would try them for their crimes, but was the word of one witness enough to condemn those men to death?
"How come Ron gets a bigger gun?" Sam asked, scowling at his brother.
"Because I am bigger numb nuts." Ron snarked back, holding up the Luger sideways, pointing at the target and closing one eye, pretending to fire as if he was a bad ass in Grand Theft Auto.
"Don't gimme none a that gangsta shit." Carl admonished, putting his hand over Ron's on the gun and taking it away from him, a sad smile passing over his face at a memory from a farm in Georgia of another nice kid who had lost his family, trying to learn to protect the people he had left; and of a big man with a heart of gold who gave his life so Carol could survive to save them all.
"All right then; listen up." Rick called out. "Now that you've shown you can break your weapons down and put them back together in the required time, you're ready for the next part of your training."
They had spent the last three hours learning the basics of gun maintenance and safety and the young people were antsy to start actually shooting at something.
Ron and Sam's mother had refused to allow them to learn, confident that the walls and the men tasked with protecting them were enough; that her children should be sheltered from the harsh realities of the outside world.
Her death was why they were learning now, the afternoon following her funeral.
"I don't know if I can do this." Sam said quietly to the man sitting behind him, looking at the small pistol he held with trepidation.
"Carl was younger n' you when he started." Daryl assured him, "Just takes payin' attention n' practice." He had two pair of noise cancelling head phones looped over his forearm and had several spare clips for the small gun stashed in his pants pockets.
As he'd promised, he was here to teach the boy. His leg injury meant he couldn't do much else towards the repair or cleanup efforts so it gave him something to do to feel useful.
"Thank you Mr. Daryl." the boy said shyly, still looking down at the hand gun. "For not being mad at me about last night."
"You thought she was getting' hurt. You wanted to help her. I get that." Daryl said treating the apology with the solemnity it deserved. Inwardly he was proud of the kid for having the balls to come to Carol's rescue.
"If I had a knife or a gun I could've saved my mom." Sam said, sad and frustrated. "From all the bad things."
"Sometimes no matter what you do, kid, people are gonna die." Daryl said, looking over at Carl who was conferring with his father. "Moms too."
"Your mom?" Sam asked, his brow crinkling in sympathy.
"Died a long time ago. Before all this." Daryl told him, looking off towards the Clinic building, wondering how Carol was doing today. She'd been gone already when he woke up, leaving him another pain pill and a glass of water with a note that said she had to be at work early and would see him at the funerals. There she'd been silent, letting Sam hold her hand when the tearful boy had grabbed it, but leaving as soon as the service was over to go back to the Clinic.
"Was she sick?" Sam asked. "My friend Violet's mom from second grade had the cancer and she died."
"No." Daryl said gruffly.
"Did your dad hit her too?" Sam asked next, making Daryl's head snap around.
"What?"
"I saw...on your back last night...you're like me...and Ron." Sam said, those big unblinking owl eyes full of shared pain and understanding. He shuffled close to Daryl and lifted his Spiderman t-shirt in the back and Daryl saw.
They were the same.
His jaw tightened, damning Pete to the lowest level of hell and feeling light headed with the knowledge that if Rick hadn't already taken care of him, Daryl would have.
"Yeah. He did." Daryl said succinctly. "But she died in a fire; our house burned down."
Sam nodded and then reached out and put his hand on Daryl's shoulder. A year ago Daryl would've shrugged off the comforting gesture, but now he took it as it was intended: pain shared is pain lessened.
"Why does Miss Carol pretend she doesn't like me?" Sam asked, sounding both sad and curious.
Daryl looked at the child, startled by his perception.
"Why do you think?" Daryl asked.
Sam's frown deepened and he chewed on his lower lip, thinking.
Daryl gave a little grunt of recognition, realizing he was doing the same thing.
"She was a mom." the boy finally said.
"You think?" Daryl prodded, wondering if he'd been talking to Carl about everyone in their group.
"Well, she makes really good cookies n' she does stuff to take care of people—make sure that they're... they're safe and stuff. That's what mom's are supposed to do."
"Uh huh." Daryl nodded.
"But I think her kids died. Like maybe walkers got them. Out there." he looked towards the wall with a little shiver, "And that makes her sad...and angry too."
"Carl tell you that?" Daryl asked, studying the boy's face.
"No." Sam shook his head from side to side vigorously. "So I was right? She had kids?"
Daryl stared at the boy. He wanted to be there for Carol; to support her decisions, but closing herself off like she was? Shutting down her emotions by lying to herself about caring for the boy? That was going to blow up in all of their faces sooner or later.
"Girls." Daryl finally said. "Three girls."
"And they all died?" Sam asked softly.
Daryl nodded.
"Then she should be sad." Sam nodded, chewing on his lip again and then giving Daryl's shoulder a squeeze. "It's good she has you to love her."
"So how is the training going?" Deanna asked, striding up to stand next to Daryl's chair.
"Hello Mizz Deanna." Sam said politely as he let his hand fall from Daryl's shoulder and took a step back.
"Ma'am." Daryl said gruffly, looking down at the ground and blinking rapidly. Damn kid...
"Maggie took Dr. Yang to the Clinic to start seeing patients now—I'd like you to go by there so she can take a look at your leg, Daryl." Deanna told him, gesturing to his injury.
"Carol did my leg up fine." Daryl said defensively, glaring up at her. This new woman rolling in here and pushing Carol out of the way didn't sit right with him.
"Carol stepped up and did an amazing job—I'm not discounting that." Deanna soothed, "But this woman is a doctor, Daryl, or at least she claims to be and we need to test that."
"So you want me to be some kinda guinea hen?" Daryl said, squinting.
"Pig." Sam piped up. "Guinea pig. I used to have one."
Deanna tried to contain her amusement, surprised to see that Sam felt comfortable enough around Daryl to correct him. Finding a permanent placement for the orphaned boy and his brother was another task she had to deal with, but for now it seemed that he was fine where he was.
"Soon as I'm done here then." Daryl grumbled good naturedly, and nodded.
Rick whistled loudly to catch everyone's attention.
"All right! Since today our learners are all first timers, with the exception of Enid," he said with a nod to the self-possessed girl, "... we're going to do this one at a time... so let's get in line."
Daryl handed one set of the headphones to Sam, gesturing for him to take them and head over to Rick.
While Rick was giving the kids some final instructions Deanna came closer to Daryl's chair.
"Sam seems quite attached to you and Carol," the ASZ leader said quietly, following the boy's progress across the gun range. "The boy needs stability right now more than anything. I'd consider it a personal favor if you could wait on your new housing request a bit longer, until things calm down a bit more, after this business with the Wolves is over."
Daryl sighed and nodded, knowing it would do no good to argue with her.
Maggie must've passed along the note he'd given her at the funeral services, asking permission to move into one of the vacant homes. He stared at Sam, wondering what he'd say to Carol. The truth, he supposed, that Deanna had said no.
And then get ready for the fallout.
"I like her." Erin Yang said as she followed Carol around the small Clinic on her tour.
"Maggie?" Carol asked over her shoulder as she opened the locked drug cabinet to show the doctor their supplies or lack thereof.
"Yes—very capable for one so young—she's married to Glenn, right?"
"That's right." Carol said.
"You were all part of the large group that came in most recently—with the constables and the baby?" Erin asked, her tone deliberately light and curious.
"You seem well informed for someone who just arrived yourself." Carol replied a bit tartly, turning to face the other woman and crossing her arms over her chest.
"Olivia brought my breakfast this morning." Erin said, a dimple appearing in her cheek. She'd played her cards pretty close to the vest about how much she knew about this place when talking to Deanna earlier.
The woman who ran the pantry had been in the mood for conversation, mostly gossip about the people here in the Zone, and had stayed to chat while Erin ate. Michonne had looked on with disapproval, finally interrupting when the talk strayed into areas beyond the purely personal.
"So you've already tapped into our own little social network." Carol said dryly.
"Oh yes!" Erin said, smiling. "Olivia wanted to make sure I was an actual doctor doctor, and not just an academic doctor; seems everyone got excited when Felicia told the recruiters her partner was a doctor, but it turned out she held a Ph.D. in psychology."
Carol nodded. The women that Daryl and Aaron had brought in several weeks before had been worried that if they didn't have skills needed by the community that they would be turned away, so Felicia had lied to the men about Claire's real pre-Turn profession. The truth came out after Deanna had interviewed them separately.
The lie hadn't been needed. Finding a pregnant woman well into her sixth month living on the road was reason enough to grant them entrance into the Zone. A psychologist was a bonus they hadn't had the time to make much use of yet.
"My credentials seemed to pass muster." the doctor said, looking Carol up and down. The gray-haired woman's piercing blue eyes and the stubborn set of her chin were a marked contrast to her bland pastel blouse and tan slacks.
"So what's the word on me then?" Carol asked, the familiar feeling of being scrutinized and found wanting passing over her.
"Friendly, good cook, a hard worker and..." Erin paused thoughtfully.
"And?" Carol asked, raising an eyebrow.
"And the handsome biker with the bow—the one with the lacerated calf?" Erin said, a small smile playing at her lips. "Dixon, right?"
Carol's face remained impassive. If the woman was fishing for some overt statement of her relationship with Daryl she didn't get one.
"I'm told you did an impressive job sewing him up the other day." Yang complimented with a one shoulder shrug, "But you're not a doctor?"
"No, I'm not." Carol replied crisply.
"Nurse then? Physician's Assistant?" Erin speculated. "Before?"
Carol nodded no to both.
"I don't have a degree. I've learned as I've gone along." Carol said evenly. "Maggie's father was our only medical professional at first—a veterinarian—he taught both of us before he was killed." She'd also spent many hours in the remnants of the Woodbury library they'd brought to the Prison studying both herbal remedies and traditional medical techniques, assisting Hershel and Dr. S when needed.
"Well, you have a natural talent for it then." Erin said, narrowing her eyes.
"I do what I can."Carol said, her eyes rising to the single letter etched onto the small woman's forehead. The scars had been cut deeply, cruelly so, healing in livid magenta. Everyone these days had their scars, someplace...
"I hear there's an opening for a physician here in Alexandria." Erin said, looking around the room, running her hand over the examining table beside her, "Since the constable shot the previous one." Her sharp eyes watched for a reaction from Carol.
"Rick had his reasons." Daryl said from behind the doctor, standing in the doorway, leaning heavily on his crutches, his crossbow on his back.
Surprised, Erin swung around to look at him and then gave him the same thorough once over as she'd done to Carol earlier. A few beats later she met his eyes and smiled.
"Mr. Dixon!" Erin said pleasantly.
Daryl came through the door and into the room, acknowledging Carol with a quick bob of his head. He sensed a certain low level hostility between the women, and moved to place himself between Carol and the doctor, facing the latter.
"They told me ya wanted to look at my leg." Daryl drawled, laying his south Georgia on thick. "Don' know as to why though." he briefly glanced back over his shoulder at Carol and then back at Yang. "Doin' fine."
"I mean no insult to your... friend's work," the doctor said, and Daryl frowned at the condescension in her tone. "...but with a deep laceration there's always a risk of infection, blood poisoning, sepsis, tetanus—"
"He's had a round of antibiotics and a tetanus booster," Carol interrupted, "The wound site is—"
"I'd like to check it for myself—if you don't mind?" Yang interrupted back, all business. This was her profession, her expertise, her authority.
The women stared at one another, two ultimate survivors feeling one another out, testing the other's resolve.
Daryl took a step back, moving into Carol's space, making his preference clear.
After a few seconds, Carol put her hand on his shoulder and he looked back at her, making sure she was sure and then let her relieve him of the bow so he could crutch forward and sit down on the exam table to allow the doctor to examine him.
Carol chewed on her lower lip, shaking her head at how she'd been letting her pride get in the way of Daryl's best interests.
Erin was fascinated by their silent communication, wondering if they knew how rare that kind of connection was, how lucky they were to have found it. Hoping this place would last long enough for them to enjoy it...
And maybe give her another chance to reinvent herself...again.
Thank you for continuing to read and comment on this story. I really appreciate the encouragement and thoughtful critiques. Carol & Daryl very dear to me & I hope I am doing them and their unique dynamic justice.