Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Walking Dead rights either Comic Book or AMC's TV show spin off.
Notes: Here we go! Chapter 65! Massive super thanks to all the readers, supporters, PMers, reviewers, favorites and follows! I can't believe how fast I've written this since I started it at the very end of January! Crazyness! Daryl is addicting...not that I have to tell you guys that! LOL
Love the reviews, keep 'em coming!
They make me feel warm and fuzzy! :D
Chapter Sixty-Five
(Fin's POV)
I wake to the happy trilling sound of a bird song.
I frown blinking my eyes against the soft morning light trying to wake up.
How the Hell did a bird get in here again? You'd think one busted skylight in a roof wouldn't be enough to attract their attention.
I can just barely make it out fluttering back and forth between the steel rafters overhead.
And there's two of them. Great. They'll probably make a nest up there and never leave. That will be fun to clean up.
I groan, try to roll over and stuff my face into the pillow. A voice grumbles next to me, thick with sleep.
"Quit moving, or we'll have to admit we're both awake and get up."
Daryl. My insides warm instantly.
"We do have to get up." I say that, but I twist instead; snuggle closer to his bare chest. His skin is hot against mine. The man really is a human furnace, it defies logic.
"No we don't." His arm tightens around my waist at the same time my stomach growls loud enough to echo off the rafters.
He grumbles when I pull away from him, one eye popping open to watch me slide from between the sheets.
I can't resist. "See anything you like?"
He curses, rolls onto his back staring at the ceiling. "That's not the way to get to breakfast in the next hour Woman."
Hmm, maybe later…after last night we might be setting a new world record
I bite my lip grinning at him finish pulling the tank top over my head, slide a pair of soft grey cargo pants over my hips covering the lace thong I just gave him a serious eyeful putting on.
"You want me to bring you something?"
He doesn't look ready to get up…not that I blame him considering neither of us really got a lot of sleep last night…more like short naps between…well, you know… My hip muscles protest when I try to pull on my boots, so I just leave them off; it's just breakfast.
I straighten back up, breath catching in my throat. I've never seen him like this. He looks completely relaxed, just sprawled half across the bed. It's sexy as Hell with his sleep mused hair and a few sleep lines pressed into his bare skin…and I might just get back in bed…run my tongue up his bare chest... Food isn't that important…
"Or we could just stay here…"
Sore enough to give up foot ware? Yes.
Sore enough to not want to jump his bones right this second? Never.
He glances at me from the corner of his eye, flushes with a soft snort. "You're trying to kill me…"
My stomach rumbles again.
I'd glare at if for interrupting where this might be going…if that was physically possible.
"Nah, You gotta eat; just give me a sec." He scrubs a hand over his eyes stretching.
"Daryl, I can come right back..."
He shakes his head is already rolling out of bed, "Nah, after all that I need to eat too…" He blushes catching my eye before grabbing the folded clean jeans and fresh socks on the side table sliding into them.
I pull my tangled hair into a sloppy loose bun at the back of my neck, tucking a few loose strands behind my ears.
I don't have time to braid it before I pass out from hunger; and I'm Not going up there with Sex Hair.
Maggie and Glenn would never let me live that down.
When he stands up from the far side of the bed, shoving his feet into his boots I start down the hallway ahead of him. He's pulling his shirt over his head a few steps behind me when Carol pokes her head out of Mika's room.
She pulls the door shut behind her, grins wide eyebrow twitching in amusement leaning against the doorframe making me blush to my hairline instantly.
"So…you two kiss and make up?"
"Shudup."
Daryl clears his throat, blushing after we say it in unison.
Carol just laughs, steps toward me and throws her arm over my shoulders. "We'll I'm glad. Let's go get something to eat, I am starving."
It feels a little like safety in numbers as we climb the ladders to the top floor. I don't think they're doing it on purpose; but both Daryl and Carol hover near me never more than a few feet away when we join the rest of the group.
Luke is there, already talking to Rick about something off to the side. He holds my eyes for a moment before returning his attention to the conversation. I'll have to talk to him today; I just need some food first; maybe a full stomach will help me figure out what to say.
There's no sign of Chris. Probably just as well. I don't think everyone wants to witness a murder with breakfast.
"Good Morning," Sasha smiles at us, bouncing Judith in her lap cooing at the her while she points with chubby baby hands at the rafters. Her big blue eyes following the birds that are only a short distance above our heads at this level she reaches out like she can grab them, no concept of distance yet.
Almost everyone is already sitting down with a bowl of something…rice and beans, with some kind of meat going by the smell in the air…for breakfast? My stomach feels so hollow I don't really care, I think I could eat the whole pot myself.
"Morning." Carol's reply to Sasha is all happiness; like her unstoppable smile this morning. Carol's always chipper in the morning; she's one of those 'Morning people' who roll out of bed all instant sunshine. But today she seems…bubbly.
I need a lot longer to wake up, Daryl too judging by his expression.
I plop down next to Michonne. She takes in my bruised face but doesn't say anything; she's good like that.
Carol hands me a bowl, she explains the strange mixture after I frown at it wondering what happened to the cereal.
"We had to do something with the meat Daryl brought in last night but didn't tell anyone about...Didn't want it to spoil." She shoots him a grin while he grumbles something I don't catch.
Ah.
That means Daryl must have come straight downstairs after Carol probably all but ambushed him on the roof…
I figured when she disappeared on me last night after patching me up and telling me to get some rest that she was going to tell Rick what happened; which I guess she didn't since he looks like he's getting bad news first hand from Luke right now when I glance at them from the corner of my eye—
Which means when Carol stormed upstairs last night she went straight to find Daryl. She succeeded obviously at not only finding him but giving him enough of an earful he forgot we were supposed to be mad at each other…
Forsaking something as sacred as food prep; especially when food can be so scarce in this world…my stomach does a ridiculous little flip at the possible connotations there. Thinking about Daryl being that worked up over what happened with Chris shouldn't make me feel…I struggle to find the right word… Protected…Cherished… Loved?
Daryl drops to the floor beside my feet, back leaned against the wicker benches front panel, his shoulder pressed to my knee. He stretches his legs out on the floor near the fire pit so that Carol has to step over him so she can sit next to me on the seat cushion.
There's a definite feel of hovering to where he's sitting today; the way he keeps contact with some part of my body almost absentmindedly…it would have bothered me before; would piss me off it was Luke doing the same thing… but I don't mind so much today…just the opposite. I find myself pressing my leg closer to him, trying not to blush as I do it.
My stomach pulls another fluttering summersault and my insides tingle when he glances at me over his shoulder, shifting his weight even closer. He brings his arm up to rest on my bent knee practically lounging against me and the bench as he eats.
And it shouldn't thrill me.
It absolutely should not turn me on; send heat zipping down my spine, increase the tingling fluttering low in my belly. But it does, my pulse races at the realization of what his posture would look like to a casual observer… Glenn's posture isn't this obviously possessive around Maggie and she's his wife…
I stare down at my bowl, feeling him pressed against my thigh, his whole side pressed to my calf and try my damnedest to ignore that if feels very much like he's claiming his territory…
"Ouch Fin, You lose your sparing match the other day?" Maggie voice pulls me back, I look up at her as she winces taking in my bruised face from where she's now sitting across from us on the other bench… at least she didn't comment on my hair…or Daryl… I blush again.
"You should see the other guy."
Luke. I glance up at him; feel Daryl's muscles tense where his body is pressed against my leg.
"Can I talk to you, please?" Luke is careful to only look at me, and not Daryl.
Two dominant males and me in the middle…
keeping them from killing each other.
I put another scoop of rice in my mouth, take a moment to chew and swallow. Letting Luke sweat it out for a moment before I acknowledge him by setting my bowl down on the floor next to Daryl's hip whispering a quick "I'll be right back," to his ear.
He doesn't look happy but he nods; expression tight and guarded. I press my hand to his shoulder quickly as I get up, the one still slung over my knee, he moves it reluctantly as I stand up so he's not blocking me in. "If I have to punch him in the face in the next five minutes you can shoot him as many times as you want."
He looks intrigued by that idea, lips twitching upwards for a second with a sound of approval.
We walk a few feet away, try to get some privacy.
"Have you guys seen my gun?" Glenn has just come out of his shed, plops down next to Maggie as we're walking away.
"Hell'd you lose your damn gun ShortRound?" Daryl's gruff answer makes me smile.
I turn away from them. Face Luke arms crossed over my chest, waiting.
"Look, I'm sorry. I should have talked to you… I'm in a serious pickle here Finny."
"Oh? And how's that?"
"Well, on the one hand I've got my best friend swearing to me up and down that he didn't do anything… and I've got the only lil sister I've ever had telling me he did do something. Something awful, that I should go castrate him for even thinking…" He stares down at his boots draws a deep breath.
"If you tell me he tried to…that he was going to force himself on you… Fuck. I'll believe it. It tears me up thinking it…but if you say it happened then it's the Truth, and I'll do whatever I have to."
I stare at him for a long moment. The heavy weight of ending a life-long friendship on my shoulders; it sits like a rock in my stomach despite what Chris did to me…or tried to do…
"It happened Luke. You know Chris has always been a SkirtChaser—" it was one of the reasons I'd wanted nothing to do with him my whole life. "I just think he's got to remember where the Hell the line is drawn, Before someone has to kick his teeth back to it."
I don't think a lot of girls ever told the almighty Chris Church no. Certainly not in their one horse town, and probably not in his College days either.
Smart, good looking and witty; Chris spent most of his life strutting around under the belief that he was God's personal gift to women.
The idea has obviously gone to his head more than any of us realized.
"I'm so Sorry. I should have talked to you." We stare at each other again. I nod after a moment.
"We're going to leave today, got things to finish…but I wanted to tell you…"
Something snags at my attention. Something wrong.
Very Wrong.
"What's that sound?"
"What sound?"
Sasha's voice floats to me from the conversation happening around the fire as I strain to listen. "No he's right I can't find my gun either…"
Oh God.
"Where's Chris?!"
"He's sparing with Beth and Carl downstairs… I didn't think you'd want to talk to him after yesterday. He said he wanted to show them a few moves before we left…Why?"
I know that sound
…and there's only one reason someone would turn that forklift on.
Luke and I both sprint to the edge of the floor, stare down to the concrete floor below us.
The forklift is moving on the far side of the warehouse, pulling stacked pallets from around the rolling steel door of the warehouse.
The same steel door that separates us from about seventy five contained Walkers.
:: Walking Dead ::
Notes: Yeah, I know, my cliffhangers…don't hire a hit squad just yet! Next chapter is coming right up!
Bonus points if anyone caught the nod to Daryl's dream about being at the Warehouse while he was at the Peacock farm separated from Fin… : P