My gentle readers, before you come charging at me with flaming torches and pitch forks for making you wait so long for an update, I shall say in my defense that I went on holiday for quite a while and I did not have access to the internet. And then immediately when I returned home, I had to start right back in with work and school, so my schedule has been pretty much totally warped since I've been home. I dearly hope I'll be able to post more frequently now that things have settled back down. I have not abandoned this story, I swear. I just have to put school and work first, but I still love you all to pieces!
The first sign of trees had been sweet relief in and of itself, but now that they were actually camped right next to the rushing water of the river, they all could breathe just a tiny bit easier. They'd killed a few Walkers while setting up camp but there appeared to be no more on the horizon and as exhausted as he was, once camp was secure, Daryl hauled his carcass off the ground and shouldered his bow. Fox put her hand on his leg, asking him to wait for her, but he shook his head.
Now she forced herself up to her feet. Her bones and feet ached with every single twitch but she shook off the splintering exhaustion and fixed Daryl with a hard look. They were so tired they barely even had the words to speak to each other, but nonetheless, Daryl stepped a few paces away from the group to talk with her alone.
"I'm just going for a hunt with Rick," he told her. "We won't be far."
Her eyes burned hard and she scrubbed her palms over her face, tussling her hair and then forcing it back away from face, frustration practically making her vibrate. "Don't fight. Please." She knew that the simmering tension between the two men was at least partly her fault and it hurt to think that she had somehow come between the two men she cared for most in the world.
Daryl shook his head. "We won't. I promise. Look after things here ok?"
At first she didn't answer, torn between her assertive nature and her need to control every aspect of her environment, especially the relationships therein, and the truth that told her without a doubt if she intervened now she'd just make it worse. She sucked in a long, deep breath and finally nodded.
"Come back safe, ok?" she said as she pulled him in for an embrace. There was tension in his shoulders and arms at first but after a few seconds it melted away. He returned her embrace, a soft huff of air leaving his lungs as he pulled her tight against him. The burn of her scent in his nose brought back memories of much better days and he was soothed enough to let her go.
"I will," he promised.
He crossed through camp to where Rick was waiting for him. At first Daryl said nothing and merely kept focused on the surrounding environment, letting his hunting instincts take him over. He hadn't truly tracked or hunted in a long time, or at least hadn't with any real hope of success, but with the rushing of the water at his back and the closeness of the woods around them, he knew he had a good chance to snag big game for once, and even if he didn't take a deer, he knew he'd at least find squirrels or rabbits, finally having left the endless empty fields behind when they'd came within five miles of the river.
He settled down into his skin and tried to relax as much as possible, to the point where he almost forgot Rick was padding softly beside him. This was his element, this was where out of all the situations he found himself in, where he could do his best work. He'd lived off the land for as long as he could remember, and it felt good to return to the place he knew best, particularly when most everything else was falling apart.
The softest snap of a twig pricked his ears and he shifted. He held his hand out to Rick as a signal to wait and Daryl dropped into a crouch. Being closer to eye level with the surrounding foliage would help him see what exactly was moving in the distance. He heard the soft warbled songs of birds in the distance and exhaled slowly to steady his nerves, very carefully beginning to shift his bow forward so he could fire at a moment's notice. He could feel the tension from Rick practically humming in the space between them, but for the moment he would ignore it. Rick knew Daryl rarely took the first bit of game he saw, it made subsequent kills more difficult because of the intruding smell of blood and death that other animals would no doubt pick up on. After nearly twenty years with the man Rick still hadn't mastered hunting quite like Daryl had, and was convinced he might not ever.
Daryl waited patiently, listening to the bird song a while longer, stilling the eager anticipation in his bones. The fact that they hadn't had a chance to wash up in a long time was playing to his favor because the birds were headed straight for him, but something was off. He shifted his position and let his finger curl around the trigger of the crossbow but he didn't squeeze just yet. He could tell from which direction the game was moving and in about ten seconds it would cross their paths in the brief break in the shrubbery about fifteen feet away. Sure enough, a frightened group of quail came skittering out of the shrubs and for a split second Daryl almost squeezed the trigger, but then he saw what had driven the birds out. A fox leapt out from the shrubs and made to tackle one of the frightened birds, it's slender muzzle snapping at a wing, preventing the bird from taking flight as the others had started. Daryl shifted the bow and fired, spearing two at the same time, but both were incomplete kills. Rick made to move forward but Daryl held his hand out still to stall him.
The two men watched as the fox took down its prize, biting at the bird's neck to finish the kill. For a split second the animal and Daryl locked eyes, and though the fox's burned with golden amber tones, Daryl's breath caught in his chest nonetheless. It was only out of instinct that he moved, snapping a decent size stick under foot to startle the animal away, because he knew that if he waited, the fox would try to collect both the quail he'd shot down. With a flick of it's bottlebrush tail and a twitch of it's large ears the fox picked up the quail and darted away, running back into the safety of the thick underbrush.
Now Daryl rose forward smoothly and came to collect his prize. One of the birds had been shot through the body, a through and through, the other arrow piercing only a portion of the second quail's chest. Quickly as he could he withdrew the arrow and snapped the necks of both birds to end their pain.
"You could have shot the fox. Would have been more meat," Rick pointed out as he took one of the birds from Daryl and began to pluck the feathers out.
Daryl shrugged. "Bad omen," he said quietly as he worked, thick fingers digging into the feathers and pulling with quick, harsh tugs.
"Why did you name her that?" The question was very soft, as if hoping not to provoke anger. Daryl stilled the slow burn in his chest that he didn't quite understand and kept on with his work as he answered.
"When I was a kid in order to help keep food on the table we had chickens in our backyard, and I was the one who took care of them. One summer we had a bad drought and a fox came up from the woods and was killing our chickens because there was no food anywhere else. I had to lay a trap to catch her, and it didn't take long before I caught her." He paused a little, thinking back to all those years ago, the moment he'd first locked eyes on her in camp. It had just been her eyes showing, or at least that was all he could really remember. He hadn't seen the human in her then. Only the blistering animal instinct of pure survival by any means necessary. It rang something so true in himself that he hadn't been able to resist the pursuit, both for the protection of the group, and his own curiosity.
"Did you kill her?" Rick asked softly.
Daryl nodded slowly. "Didn't want to, but I had to. If I didn't, she'd of killed the rest of our birds. I never like killing predators. They're not supposed to be hunted. It's like killing a part of yourself. I dunno." He shrugged a little, unable to really explain it to someone like Rick who hadn't had to hunt for survival and didn't understand the intimate interconnectedness of predator and prey. He glanced at his friend and rolled one shoulder once more. "Sides. I can't shoot her namesake."
Rick nodded and they collected their game and Daryl stowed it on his string he'd brought along and they continued working their way through the woods, knowing they'd need more food to feed the rest of camp, but Rick's curiosity couldn't be pacified.
"Any reason you never found her a ring?"
Daryl nodded as he slotted another arrow into his bow just to be at the ready in case more game crossed their path. "In my family, a wife is a kid factory who can take a pounding from her man's fists just because he had a shitty day. They're property, not people. And I just can't…I can't put the same name on her."
Rick's brow furrowed tightly. "But you'd never hit Fox, and you're not your family, Daryl. You never were."
"I did once," he admitted very quietly. "When we lost Sophia."
Rick's chest tightened at that. He remembered that awful, bloody day, frozen with snow and sheets of ice and so much pain that it would never completely heal. That had been the same day that he'd asked Fox to help him murder Shane. He hadn't been watching when Daryl had stormed off, his gaze drawn instead to the little girl's body in his arms and the memory of the fresh torrent of blood streaming out of Shane's face and chest from Fox's stab wounds. He vaguely remembered Daryl and Fox yelling at each other, but he hadn't seen the way Daryl had shoved her so hard she'd fallen to the ground.
"If memory serves me right, she wouldn't let go of you," Rick said quietly, intending to say more, but he felt the bristling tension from Daryl and shut his mouth.
"So what? Didn't give me the right to put my hands on her like that. Like I own her." He shook his head and spat on the ground near his feet, clearing his mouth from the scent of his kills and the bitter aftertaste of guilt brought on by memories. "Sides. She doesn't need a ring to tell the world who she's with."
Rick shook his head firmly. "No, she doesn't," he agreed. "I'm sorry, Daryl. If I ever made you think you couldn't trust me. Or her." He didn't quite look his friend in the eye, not sure if the contact was wanted or not. Daryl was of the same mind, halfway watching his environment and halfway keeping an eye on Rick as though he might be dangerous.
"I trust her, Rick. And I trust you. It ain't about that." He sucked in a deep breath and suddenly craved the burning singe of nicotine from a cigarette, but his last remaining pack had been in the bike's saddlebag.
"Then what is it about?" Rick pressed. It was dangerous territory and he knew it but if he and Daryl didn't work this out in some capacity it was going to damage the whole group eventually, and he just wasn't willing to have that happen. Not now, and not ever.
"You crossed a line," Daryl growled quietly. "I know it seems small and stupid, but her name was only for me and Luna. We didn't even tell her until she was old enough to understand why she had to keep it a secret."
"I thought I wasn't coming back," Rick breathed. "I thought for sure I was going to die down there, and I just…"
"Say you had died down there, Rick," Daryl grated, cutting his friend off. "Say you had. Would you have asked Fox to keep that secret too?" Before Rick could even answer Daryl was turning towards him, cobalt fire burning deep inside his eyes.
"Whether you would or wouldn't doesn't matter. But I'm going to tell you, right here, right now, don't ever ask her to do something she wouldn't otherwise do again. Just don't."
There was the barest threat in Daryl's voice, a grating growl deep in his throat and a wildness prickling through every inch of his skin that warned Rick of his seriousness. Rick began to slowly realize the possessiveness that had woken in Daryl; it was something rarely seen since the man normally worked his way through life with little care or jealousy, only really concerned for the safety of his family and himself, and since this tension between the two of them was so newly woken, he hadn't originally recognized it for what it actually was. Rick shouldn't have been surprised though; he knew enough of Daryl's background to know that anything the man could claim as his own, he would rightly hang onto with a death grip- he'd had so little prior to the world ending it really wasn't a wonder. The denial on Rick's tongue died right then. He had been about to protest, to say that Fox never did anything unless she wanted to, but he knew that wasn't true. He knew that somehow, someway, he had some sort of hold on her, a bond that could persuade her to do things she might not otherwise do. The fact he knew her name was proof of that. If it had been any other member of their family in his place, even if they believed that they were going to their death, she would not have told them her name, he was sure of it.
Rick nodded slowly. "I won't," he promised. It didn't matter whether he thought Daryl was overreacting or not; he had enough respect for the man, and he cared enough about him, to keep from questioning his wishes when it came down to Fox.
The tension in Daryl's shoulders loosened considerably, and the hunter nodded before taking the plucked birds and stringing them up before beckoning his friend to follow him further into the woods. As they worked together, teaming up to take down as much game as they needed before turning to head back into camp Daryl could feel the desire to try and explain himself to Rick, but he kept his mouth shut. Rick didn't need his explanation. No one did. If they didn't know him well enough by now to understand where he came from, then they could get the balls and ask. But Rick didn't, and Daryl knew it was because he already understood. The silence between them now was amicable and when they returned to camp with two strings of game, they were greeted warmly, and they both lightly accepted the credit for bringing back dinner.
"How much further till your next cache, Ivy?" Maggie asked when she'd finished picking all of the meat possible off of one of the roasted quail bodies. Daryl was in the process of chewing on the very tough thigh meat of a squirrel, his teeth cracking on the bone to the point that he could taste a little of the marrow.
"If we're not held up, we should be there by nightfall tomorrow. If the trails are passible and there are no biters in our way." She had already tossed her bones into the small fire they had built, her silver hair haphazardly falling from the rough braid she'd thrown it into last night. "Once we're there we'll have food, clean water, and antibiotics for our feet."
Glenn groaned in appreciation. He wasn't the only one who was suffering from cuts and blisters, they all were, and it wasn't making it any easier to get around.
"What about the horses? Will we be able to stash them there?" Fox asked. Like Daryl, she was worrying her way at the bones of the carcass she was working on, determined to get at the marrow inside.
"It'll be hard, but we should be able to manage. The only thing I worry about is the risk of the biters being attracted because of them. The cache I built is in the attic of a fairly isolated house, but it's in a neighborhood. When I had left the entire place was completely deserted, but biters wander." The Russian rubbed her hands over her arms and combed her long fingers through her hair.
"We can keep a watch over them," Michonne suggested. "If we see anything we'll either bring them down or we'll keep moving."
Daryl and Rick both nodded in agreement, but they could see Ivy was still restless. Her copious amounts of nervous energy did nothing to settle the group but it didn't take long until it spilled over.
"What is it you intend to do, when you reach Atlanta?" she demanded finally, her pale green eyes growing hard, angling most strongly on Rick.
"Take our children back," was the gritty answer from the former sheriff.
"Yes, but how?" Ivy shot back.
"Any means necessary," Carl growled, his eyes flashing right back at Ivy. "And if you don't want to help, you can clear off before we go into the city."
Ivy flexed the fingers on her damaged hand, the scar on her bicep gleaming in the firelight. "I did not say I wouldn't help. I want to know how best to do so," she answered. When none of the group spoke, or even seemed to breathe, she continued, her eyes fixating on each and every one of them as she did so. "Benjamin's dying breath was spent on asking me to help you. In despair I betrayed his trust, I will not so again. His blood holds me to you, and if I die helping you, there is little else that would be worth my life. But I do not intend to risk my life heedlessly, unlike some I have known." Her eyes zeroed in on Fox and the four green eyes met steadily, measure for measure humming strongly between them.
"We are assuming that the kids are being held in the CDC. We've been there before, we intend to go in and retrieve them," Rick explained, slicing through some of the very palpable tension on the air.
"How? Just knock on the door and ask? Jenner doesn't seem the type to just give them up. Not after all the effort he went to in order to take them," Michonne reasoned.
"She's right," Glenn said heavily. "Remember how much security we had to go through in Colorado the first time?"
Fox shivered and Daryl gently leaned his flank against hers to steady her. Fox had been battle hardened from a young age, impervious to most forms of trauma, but her entanglement with Jenner all those years ago had scarred her in far more ways than physically. Even years after everything had happened she would sometimes wake in the night, thrashing and screaming, waking Luna and sending both her and Daryl into a tailspin until she could calm down. He didn't intend to let anything like that happen to her again, and God help those bastards if they had laid a hand on Luna. He had brutally killed Fox's tormentor, and if anyone had even so much as pushed his daughter, he'd rip them limb from limb.
"Phillip isn't with them anymore," Daryl growled. "Just the doctor, Jenner. He didn't seem concerned with security. Just the research."
"What about your brother?" Carl questioned softly, daring himself to look up at Daryl. "He was apart of that group."
Daryl's gut clenched at the familiar pain, a wave of uncomfortable nausea rolling over him. He had barely spoken of his brother in the time since that awful, bloody day; even after all this time, the wound was raw and barely healed over. It was a scar that threatened to bleed fresh with not that much pressure applied. Over the years he had learned to live with the pain and normally he could keep thoughts of Merle from disturbing him, but he was not without his nightmares. None of them really were, but he had the unfortunate hand dealt to him that his extended much further back than most, and in all but a few his brother made an appearance. The only time he made mention of his kin was deep in the dark, alone with either Fox or Rick, and normally at least half a bottle of whiskey would have to scorch his throat first.
"He said he was leaving them. The last time I saw him, he said he was leaving. He said he was going back to Georgia." His throat tightened but he didn't let the emotion get past his teeth.
"If he was still with them, do you think he'd know the girls?" Michonne asked quietly.
Daryl glared at her, a molten anger burning through his veins. It didn't matter if it was unreasonable or not. If they didn't let it go, he'd make them regret it.
"A Dixon always knows their kin. But it doesn't matter. Merle ain't with those fuckers anymore. The only reason he ever was because he had a shot to find me if he stuck around." He snapped a heavy stick underneath his boots feeling his teeth begin to grind. Fox gently put a hand on his forearm but he brushed her off, refusing to look at her. He got up and stalked away, breath huffing in his chest as he fought down the rushing blaze of something so akin to rage it was enough to scare him. Scare him because he couldn't master it, he couldn't seem to control it. So many memories began to surface, roiling like overheated water. He felt as though he was suffocating, desperately trying not to drown, as though if he could thrash and kick he could shake away the monster trying to strangle him and all he loved.
Rick made to go after him to bring him back but Fox shook her head as she watched Daryl walk away, leaving both earshot and eyesight from camp. "Let him go," she murmured.
"It's dangerous for anybody to be wandering on their own," Rick growled. He got up to his feet to follow Daryl but Fox rose too and snagged him by the wrist.
"Leave him alone," she warned. Her fingers bit strong into his skin, her eyes unyielding. "Even I would not disturb him now."
Rick relented slowly and they both sat back down again. Ivy shifted, her damaged hand's fingers curling and twining around the handle of a blade. "So therein lies where his scars run deepest," she surmised. "What happened between him and his kin?"
Fox gritted her teeth. "Merle had a hand in my imprisonment. And giving me these," she tapped the side of her face, her fingertips brushing against her scars. "After I was freed, Daryl sent him away. He returned to make peace, but Daryl spurned him again. Not even this trip so far was as hard a thing to do."
Ivy nodded slowly. Michonne was very quiet, her eyes deep pools of thought as she carefully watched the flames flickering in the middle of their circle. "Do you think that if we found Merle that he would help us?"
"Merle? Help us? Were you not listening?" Glenn scoffed, nudging the ground with his shoe. "I'm pretty sure he'd shoot us on sight."
"She has a point," Carl piped up. Michonne glanced at him with surprise, to which he just raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders. "Merle was apart of the CDC group for a long time. Almost a year. He must have been in Atlanta at some point. If he's still alive, if we found him, maybe he'd help us. Or we could force his hand to help us. He's bound to know something useful."
"This is of course hinging on whether that psycho is even still alive," Maggie pointed out. "I find it hard to believe, all this time, living on his own, and besides, even if he was, what are the odds we could find him anyway?"
Fox sighed and Rick ran a hand through his hair, the two of them meeting eyes slowly. The two of them knew how hard this might end up being, they each knew different parts of Daryl's tumultuous relationship with Merle, and both of them knew that there were probably things that they might not ever know because Daryl would never bring it up, and they refused to push it, because even though Daryl would never say the words, they knew it hurt too much and there was no point. Nobody could change the past.
"If anybody can find him, it's Daryl," Rick said softly. Everyone looked on the verge of saying something, and yet nobody wanted to pry open that can of worms. As the words formed they simultaneously turned to dust on their tongues. Nobody wanted to broach that subject with Daryl.
"What's our back up plan then? If Merle is a no go?" Carl's voice was quiet but still insistent. He wanted a solution to this issue tonight, because if there was anything that worried him about this entire scheme, it was exactly how he and his family were intending to rescue his little sister, and Luna. He still remembered breaking into the Colorado base all those years ago, the sound of screams and gunfire, the smell of smoke bombs and gunpowder burning in his nose as he followed the tense orders of his father, Daryl, and Glenn deep down into the tunnels. The awful echoed screaming from Fox as she was held against her will and tortured by a mad man. It was a sound he could never forget, and all he had been able to think about was if something like that could be happening to his sister or to Luna.
"We'll have to see what the CDC looks like once we get into the city before we can find out how to break-in. Maybe do some sort of reconnaissance to find out where Judith and Luna are being held and how best we could get them out. It's been so long since we were there, who knows what's left," Rick said finally. "If there is anything left from what was before, they're probably underground. There are a few entrances into the building, we'll have to figure out how to get in. From there it'll be difficult, but we've fought our way through before."
Ivy's lips twisted into a slightly nefarious grin. "This next cache we're coming to is well stocked with weapons. Powerful weapons. With bullets to back them up. We will not be going down to Hell's gate without some firepower."
Carl and Michonne grinned slightly and returned their gazes to the fire. Fox watched the flames for a long time too, until they were burning down into almost coals. The air was warm enough that a fire wasn't really necessary to ward off cold, but they still felt better with the light, it would help frighten away animals, and make it easier to see any Walkers approaching, if their snarled growls didn't give them away first. She knew she needed to bring Daryl back, he had been gone for almost three hours and the moon was clearly visible through the eves of the trees. She was reluctant to disturb him, but he'd had time enough to settle his mind, at least to come back into camp. She'd have preferred to wait and let him come back on his own but time and the elements were against them. Had this been home and the territory familiar she would have, but not in this strange place.
She got up from her place and made sure her knives were buckled on as well as a bullet in the chamber of her gun before stashing it in her jeans. Rick looked at her questioningly but only for a moment. He knew that if anybody had to bring Daryl back, it needed to be her.
It wasn't hard to follow his trail, after the years she'd spent with him and all of the tricks he had taught her about tracking. She knew she'd probably never have her skills as sharp as his, she knew she didn't have the natural instinct or patience it took to be a truly skilled tracker, but she knew enough to follow him, plus he wasn't attempting to hide his movements. His trail was a dare for someone to come bother him and pay the price.
She found him maybe a mile and a half away from where they'd pitched camp, not exactly hiding, but she knew he wasn't looking to be found. He was crouched near the river, his crossbow still across his back, seemingly ignorant of her presence but she knew that he was aware of her by the way his shoulder hitched ever so slightly. He was watching the slow moving water, the moonlight dappling it's surface and his body, showing off his sleeveless arms, the light bending and curling around his biceps like a silver skin. When she approached and made sure her step was loud enough that he couldn't have missed it, he finally shifted and tilted his head over his shoulder to watch her as she moved around to his side. He didn't stand up so she dropped down to be at eye level with him, using one hand on the ground to steady herself.
"Come to fetch me back for curfew?" he drawled, clearly unimpressed with having been interrupted, even by her. She knew he liked his solitude and that he always had, but she'd come to bring him back.
"Came to join you," she answered. She would eventually bring him back to camp, but she wouldn't drag him. She could if she wanted to, but that wasn't her way, not when it came to him.
"Nobody can make you do anything you don't want to," she continued. Her dark hair spilled down her shoulder and chest as she rocked forward on the balls of her feet a bit. "If you don't want to deal with Merle, you don't have to."
"I ain't worried about that," he muttered. Now he stood up to put further distance between the two of them. She disliked the maneuver and so she stood up too.
"Then what is it?" she came closer now but still allowed him room to slip away from her if he wanted. In years past he probably would have taken it, but now he held his ground. She couldn't see the way the moonlight would have played off the edges of the raised ridges of his scars; the massive gouges that shouted of everything he had been through and how much it still haunted him. She knew he was watching her the same way, noting the marks on her face, feeling the guilt and shame, wishing he could do something, anything, to change it, and knowing that there was nothing in his power to undo the past.
"I'm worried about you," he admitted quietly.
She stepped closer to him now, her steps soft and slow, barely brushing the ground even with her heavy boots. The air between them seemed to burn with unspoken tension of so many different kinds it was difficult to separate them. "Why?" The word was barely husked from her lips.
"Because Merle hurt you. And if I know him, he hasn't changed. If anything, he's probably worse than what he used to be, and if we find him, if we have to deal with him…you two will kill each other. You and him could never live together…ever. And I don't want to watch it. But we need him. Because he knows the CDC, or at least knows more than we do, and he could help us get to Luna and Judith. And I know that he's still alive. I know I could find him. And if he's our best shot to find Luna quicker than it shouldn't matter about anything else." He trailed off and she could see his fingers curling into fists, his shoulders tensing up, like an animal backed into a corner. Most people would have stepped back and left him alone to cool off but not her. Never her.
Fox came closer and let her arms encircle his shoulders, nuzzling his chest and purred softly in her throat as the gears in her brain searched for the right words to say. "Don't do this to yourself," she breathed. She could feel the way he was shaking, vulnerable and exposed, trying his best to draw back into the iron clad shell that blocked out all the pain. "With or without him, we'll get Luna back. Her and Judith. And as far as me and Merle goes…" she trailed off for a second, trying to decide if she should say what she really thought. The words grinded against her teeth like stones but she had never been anything if not brutally honest. "As far as Merle goes, what I said all those years ago is still true. If we meet again, I won't touch him. He's your brother, and thank his lucky stars, because otherwise I'd rip his skin off." Her eyes burned and her fingers tightened into Daryl's shoulder blades but he did not flinch. "Nobody will make you find him if you don't want to. It's your decision. But I will tell you that if we do find him, I won't let him hurt you."
Now he tilted his head in question, his eyes growing darker, the moon casting the hollows even deeper. She could see the wear and tear in him, the hurt, the pang that was like a blow to the back of the head because she knew all those dark, torn secret places that would probably never fully heal, but he had asked in not so many words, and she would not deny him.
"I know how he treated you. I could see it in you long before you ever told me. I know what a man like that can do to a person. I know he was all you ever had before me and Rick and the rest showed up. And I know you've come almost a million miles from where you and he used to stand, but that doesn't mean things can't unravel. And I swear to God, I won't let it. I will drive him off myself if I have to, and you can get angry at me if you want, but I won't let him hurt you." She swallowed hard, her fingers tightening slowly on him. "You are mine now. And I would rather have you angry at me than see him hurt you again."
"You don't have to protect me," he growled gruffly, trying to shake her off. She squeezed his wrist before he could get away entirely, and though he pulled, she wouldn't let go. "I can take care of myself." The words were bitten off deep in his throat, like thunder growling overhead warning of a storm.
"I know," she said, voice barely above a whisper. She softened all she could, knowing that if she riled his temper it would just be two steps backwards. She hadn't come here to fight. The time for that confrontation wasn't now. Her fingers twisted and slid down to twine around his, interlocking their grip. "And just because I want to help doesn't mean you couldn't handle it on your own." She smiled ever so softly and sadly, wishing she could soothe the pain and knowing full well that these were wounds she might not ever be able to completely bandage over, but damn if she wouldn't do everything in her power to try. "But I'm there because it's who I am. It's what I do."
He sighed a bit, his stance slowly relaxing, loosening and coming back towards her. He towed her in and pressed their bodies together, enjoying the body warmth and the way that she made him feel solid and real. He never thought in his whole life he'd ever love someone as much as he loved her, that anybody in the world would ever make him feel complete. She couldn't peel the scars away, she couldn't buff them out, but more than anything he'd ever known, she made him feel alive.
"Why, Dahlia? Why me?" His fingers lightly skimmed the scars on her shoulder and her arm where wolf teeth had shredded skin and flesh as she'd protected him when he could no longer stand and fight. He had told her to stay behind with the safety of the others but she had braved the wilds of the night to find him, and if she hadn't, he knew he'd of died in that frozen wilderness. He'd known long before that night he loved her, he just hadn't had the guts to say it out loud.
"Because you know me," she whispered. "You know me, and you love me, and not despite it. Because of it. But still you would never let me become a monster. I don't think anybody else in the world could do that." She hummed deep in her throat and squeezed their fingers tight together. "We'll get them back. One way or another."
He unlaced their fingers for a moment, brushing his hand up underneath her jaw, turning her face up towards him. He locked his eyes with hers, marveling at the way the green could shine so brightly even in this darkness. The scars that marred her face glowed softly in the moonlight but for a split second it was almost as if they had vanished. He kissed her firmly, holding her close, refusing to release her even when both their lungs were burning, reveling in her taste, a compliment to the spice of her smell. She had come to him before when she needed to forget the way the world was coming apart at the seams, and even though he'd tried to tell himself otherwise, there would never be a better way to soothe the disquiet of his soul than to trust her with it. He kept his hands at her face and neck but didn't let their mouths part, an indication that this was more than just physicality. He couldn't find the words he needed, but he knew she'd feel it, the way he let himself drown in her, the way he could forget everything, even the way his lungs were slowly aching because he hadn't drawn a proper breath for a while. He could have stayed there the whole night like that, no need for sleep, and the only reason he even opened his eyes was because he heard the faint rasp of a growl that wasn't from either of them. About thirty feet away up the riverbank was a pair of bony Walkers that had begun to stagger towards them, arms outstretched, eyes all but oozing out of their skulls, portions of the actual bone showing through the melting skin. Daryl pulled back from Fox and sighed. His mate simply chuckled and unsheathed her bowie blade from her belt. Daryl took his hunting knife out of his belt and in a perfectly synchronized movement the two flung their knives and imbedded the blades in the Walker's skulls. They dropped with a wheezing groan and twitched for a moment before they lay still.
"Come on, we should go back," Fox murmured as they stepped towards the bodies to retrieve their weapons. They washed them clean in the river before stowing them and Daryl picked up his crossbow again.
Daryl nodded and followed Fox without a word back towards camp, bedding down with her with only enough words to the rest of the group to be informed that it was Michonne on first watch, and then Ivy. As Michonne took up her post several yards from camp so the firelight would not dull her vision, Ivy slowly approached. The swordswoman tensed at first at the crackling of the leaves but when she recognized the pale shadow she eased up, at least a little. At first no one spoke, not until Ivy's rough accented husk broke the stillness.
"I think they settled their differences," Ivy murmured softly, with a slight gesture back towards camp, to the backs of the two men who had previously quarreled.
"I hope so," Michonne offered. "The last thing we need is for them to try and tear each other's heads off." Michonne's eyes began to narrow as she sent a calculated gaze in Ivy's direction. "What made you come back?"
Ivy didn't answer at first, merely let the cool breeze brush a piece of her fine silver hair away from her face. When she did answer, her voice was like the wind, cool, careless, but comforting in some strange way.
"For the same reason you stayed. These people, they have something I've never seen before in another group. They are not just survivors. They are family. And the last of what was once mine belonged to them."
"You'd sign your life over to this suicide mission for Benjamin? Even though he's dead?" Michonne's eyebrow quirked. "That doesn't sound like you."
Ivy snickered a bit. "You are sharp." She unfolded her arms from her chest and leaned against a tree, her fingers tucking into her belt loops. "I have nothing else worth dying for. And living as I have has grown very tiresome. I'm not certain I would have been able to last another six months, not without completely going mad."
Michonne nodded slowly. "Me too."
"They have a purpose. Perhaps it is not ours to own yet, but even if it isn't, it's a reason. For me, that is enough." The Russian nodded once more and then retreated back to camp, leaving Michonne to stare out at the pitch dark wilderness, her sword unsheathed upon her lap, the moonlight glancing off the blade like dancers in a dream.
DarylDixon'sLover: Love it xx
Well thank you for saying so my friend =)
Emberka-2012: "You wear each other's skin." Yes, it is so beautiful. And it says a lot about her parents. Well, now we are waiting for a meeting with uncle Merle. Sounds a bit strange and unusual, but nonetheless he Luna's uncle.
It does, doesn't it? I love to try and find ways to explain the depth of feeling not just between Fox and Daryl, but all the members of the group. And yes Merle, I knew I wanted to bring him into this story and I just can't wait for him to meet Luna, Judith, and all the rest =D
Brittney: It's 1:10am and I just had to read this chapter, your amazing writing ability is messing with my sleep :p Incredible chapter as always and stop freaking me out with almost deaths :)
Hah, but it's my job to terrify with almost deaths! It is what the show does to us after-all, so I hope I'm doing justice to the original =)
lunasky99: I loved this chapter! I'm happy Simon and Leland decided to join them. Aw! Cute and slightly sad moment between Simon and Raoul. Haha I love how the guys are all like wow in a very weird way it's really hot when she kills walkers LOL! Hahahahahahaha! I loved it when Luna smelled Mal he didn't really know what to make of it. Holly shit! Luna almost became walker chow! Good thing Mal was there to save her. Luna and Mal kissed! I know they've done it before, a couple times actually but this one was different, it wasn't for her own personal gain or to persuade him to be on her side or even because she wants to help release the animal in him this kiss was purely because she felt the need to kiss him goodbye either for a couple days or forever. I'm happy Judith and Leland finally came out about their feelings towards each other. Okay I know this is kinda mean but I absolutely positively can't wait until Leland and Mal meet Daryl and Rick it's just going to be to fun to read!... you know if they ever get the chance to meet them, which I really hope they do so please don't kill either of them! I do think they've been very subtly hinting at that relationship but I can't make up my mind, on one hand Rick is lonely and needs someone to fill the void that Lori left and now Judith who has about a 2 out of 10% chance that she actually lived instead of died which is what they are making people think, plus Carl really likes Michonne but on the other hand Daryl needs someone just as stubborn and tough as he is, someone that will take his crap and spit it back out at him, someone with his own roughness and someone who can take his pulling away crap and haul him right back in, someone to care about him the way he's so unfamiliar with, It's so hard to choose! Can't wait for the next chapter! xD
I didn't expect to be so attached to all the OCs I've brought along into this story, but to be honest, Simon and Raoul are turning out to be some of my favs, and I definitely wanted to showcase some of what they had been through prior to going to the CDC. Aye that kiss between Luna and Mal was different. It was more affectionate, a way for her to say without words she wants him to be safe. She can't quite admit to herself how much she cares yet, but he knows the truth regardless. Lol, I love Judith and Leland, they have a very playful, coy relationship, similar to Glenn and Maggie's in the beginning of the show. Oh no my friend, that is totally not mean, I can't wait for Daryl and Rick to meet Mal and Leland as well, as well as for Luna and Judith to face their fathers (and in Luna's case, her mother) as well when it comes to their new companions. That should be quite a ride…Oh the convoluted, crazy, insane emotions and dynamics I put this group through. Its just a sign of love for all the characters xD
Guest: Please update soon, I am enjoying this immensely.
Well I have sort of failed at updating soon, but I swear to heaven and hell I have not abandoned this story, nor will I. Things just sort of happened and it had to go on the back burner. But hopefully I can post more regularly now.
RedneckBunny: WHOO-HOO! Finally I caught up on my reading! Everything has been so freaking awesome! I love every suspense filled moment. You have my eyes wanting to scan ahead to see if someone lives or dies, you put them in such perilous spots it's hard to guess if they'll make it. And you'd killed off Benjy so now I'm always like "This next sentence better say Michonne's ok or I'll go crazy!" or "Don't kill off so-and-so just yet please!". Love it all!
Poor little Benjy, he got the ax. I debated with myself for a long time on that one, but in the end, it had to be done. I am glad I'm able to keep you in suspense my friend!
TWDfan: I recently found Wildflower and then Wolfsong and absolutely LOVE them! I laughed and cried through many chapters and now cannot wait to see how you bring MERLE back into the picture. Update soon!
Awww, well thank you much! I do aim to please, so I'm glad to see that it appears to be working =D