Reawakened
"Jesus, Dixon, don't you ever wear sleeves?" Madeline whispered in irritation after her eyes refused to unglue themselves from his bulging biceps. She was annoyed more than ever with her teenage hormones, because now she was desperate enough to check out the biggest bigot in all of Georgia! Why couldn't you just make my life easier and wear a stupid jacket?!
"They slow me down," He grunted in response, vigilantly observing the dim hall way for any Walkers, praying he wouldn't have to make any more unnecessary conversation than he needed to. "Well isn't that a manly answer?" She cursed at him mentally, grinding her teeth so she wouldn't snap at him or slap him upside his over-sized head.
"Don't you ever keep your mouth shut?" He added smoothly, launching a swift arrow at a lone Walker from down the corridor. Madeline desperately held her tongue and did a visual inspection of the empty cells, trying her best to conceal her grimace as the stench of rotten meat grew stronger and thicker as they progressed. They picked up their pace, weapons poised to strike, and their tensing muscles screaming for release and the thrill of the kill as they stalked their undead prey. After yet another wiseass comment Madeline rolled her eyes, unable to contain herself and finally responded, "If you end up turning because of a stray claw I'll cut your head off and keep you as a souvenir."
"You expect I won't do the same? C'mon little girl, you know me better than that." He chuckled silently as she threw her tomahawk into a Walker's skull as it shuffled toward them in the darkness. Tip-toeing their advancement, Madeline retrieved her weapon and doubled back into position while the skilled marksman took out a pair of stragglers creeping from behind. The shadowy labyrinth was eerily silent, aside from the occasional screech of a rat and rusty groan of the pipelines the hallways were barren and empty. The redneck yanked his arrows out of the dead Walkers and sheathed two of them, reloading one with gooey grime and blood slicking his hand as he pulled the bow back to hoist it.
"Figure they may be nesting somewhere deep inside, usually this place is crawling with 'em." He commented; sweeping his hand sideways as the two rounded a corner. With her left hand providing their only source of light, Madeline swung the flashlight low and dragged it along the floor about fifteen feet, Cautious so not to alert any awaiting Walkers.
"Aw crap." She swore mentally, guesstimating the number of Walkers holed up in a decayed doorway to be at least a dozen. Faint rays of light glimmered along the spaces of their bobbing heads, signaling the location of the infirmary.
"My count is three, so far you've only got one." He teased flatly, moving her back with his hand do they could draw out a few at a time with her light.
"We'll my count is you've only got about five arrows and there's almost a dozen walkers." She hissed stubbornly, her checks burning at his snide comment.
She banged the butt her tomahawk against the wall three times, not too loud to alert all of them but enough for a lucky few to creep over and investigate it. Madeline waited to see the rotted profile of the first one to blindside it, crushing its fragile cranial bone with her sharpened blade as it tumbled to the floor, knocking down the following two. Dixon was just as quick to make his move, from his angle his arrow silently pierced one Walker's eye socket and went through the other side of his skull, pinning the third's fingerless palm to its deadweight partner. Before the Walker could growl loud enough to alert the rest of the hoard Madeline rapidly torqued her body and smashed the back of her heel onto the last one, silencing the undead janitor with a messy squelch.
Madeline's grimy boot tapped silently back to the floor, but the momentum of her force kept her gently bouncing on the arches of her feet as her adrenaline rocketed through her veins. Daryl Dixon would never admit to her just how nicely done her roundhouse kick was, but if she had glanced at his direction at just the right moment, she'd have seen his impressed, incredulous grin.
"I never thought I'd see a pretty little white girl like you smash in a head like a man."
"Well isn't that just about the nicest thing you ever said to anyone?" The unimaginable pair strutted out of the catacombs proudly, every single Walker in that hallway was dead and accounted for, not a single one was left "alive" and they hoped it would stay that way, if not for a few days, a week. Surely in all their bloody fun they lost count, but the two insisted if the other hadn't claimed a landslide victory it would've ended in their dead center tie.
"Glad you guys could finally join us!" Rick greeted the two invitingly, admiring the healthy amount of black blood and flesh stuck to their clothes.
"Glad to finally be done." Madeline replied, rolling her neck over her aching shoulders and stretching her legs. Breaking bones and smashing heads without so much as a warm-up stretch goes a long way on the limbs.
"Figure that hallway should be clear for a few days," Daryl said to Rick, crossing his tensed arms and spitting loose saliva from his mouth onto the floor. While Madeline politely declines the loud snort she held in contempt at Daryl's manners, she was secretly holding in a chuckle.
"Could you be any more redneck, Redneck?" Madeline joked, nudging him playfully with the tips of her fingers, turning her head and grinning at him sarcastically, then suddenly shoving her hands into her pockets. Where did that come from?
"Now listen here smartass-" Daryl started in rebuttal to the insult, either or oblivious to or opting to ignore Madeline's physical reaction to touching him.
"So I think we're done here guys, you should head on in and see what else might need to be done!" Rick interrupted, passing through the closing gap between the feuding (nearly) friends to (very urgently one might add) go and check on his pregnant wife back in their cellblock.
Madeline didn't see any more outstanding reasons to stay, other than staring at Daryl's ugly mug and doing extra laundry; she really had some tough decisions on her hands. Mulling over her decisions wouldn't be too helpful at the time, so she opted to return to her cell and try to take a nap or catch up on her close-combat skills in solitude. Daryl hadn't spent any extra time on his decisions as he bee-lined for his usual perch in the guard tower, which was left lonesome this morning while the two of them went to clear out the catacombs.
Madeline shot her fists at the awaiting air, her strength rippling through her muscles as her fingers jutted and jabbed at her mental opponents, sweat trickled down her shoulders as they pushed against the imaginary attackers, striking finishing blows to the figments of her imagination as they fell into defeated piles at her feet. Her movements were precise and deadly, she could match this invisible enemy in each stride, countering its feeble retaliations by altering her very fluid fighting style and turning the attacker's moves against him. When she fought she had to be fierce, unforgiving, and without mercy. Madeline was glad that if her wretch of a stepfather had taught her anything, it was combat….
She straightened out her flexed knees, her calves hard as steel and sculpted from her consistent practice. She let herself catch her breath with a dry chortle and she returned to her cell from the empty hallway, wishing she could use her skills to knock a certain smartass down a few notches from his pedestal… She needed a break, comic relief! Because sooner rather than later, her past, as well as the future, would come banging down her door with the brutality of an avenging angel…
Rise
Being sprawled on the flattened mattress made her muscles tense and knot; Madeline rolled onto her aching back, arms still folded over her eyes. Today was quiet, after clearing the hallway to the infirmary Rick let her and Daryl turn in early to get some rest. Being task-less and lazy for an hour drove her insane and eventually her mind got the better of her and she found herself outside in the hot sun folding laundry in the courtyard with Beth and Carol.
The most exciting thing to happen in the otherwise soul-wrenching task was when she was emptying the pockets of a mischievous pair of dirty pants. Her face flushed bright red with heat, blood gushed through her cheeks in rapids through her veins as she shoved the unopened blue condom wrapper into her jeans before Carol would notice. She was very friendly and liked to make good-natured jokes when they spent time together but her non-existent sex life was definitely not something she wanted open to discussion. Luckily the naughty pair of pants was the last to be scrubbed 'clean' so once they were safely hung onto a drying rail she returned to her cell to do…. Well, nothing…. again.
It was now late in the afternoon, probably three or four, the sun hung in the clouds like a chandelier, bathing the gray prison in glowing amber light that danced across the fleeting shadows. From her cell, a mildew-coated overlooking window filled her room with light, nearly blinding her as she moved her hands to see the looming figure that flitted across her doorway.
Her left eyebrow raised curiously at the sight: Daryl Dixon was leaning across her doorway, his crossbow slung over his shoulder and a hand brushing through his messy hair. "Well isn't this a pleasant surprise?"
"Wanna go huntin'?" Madeline would have thought he'd about lost his mind if he was serious. He didn't even like her to start with. Memories of his insipid taunting and hurtful jeers made her countenance sharp and eyes narrow in her response.
"Pardon me?" She inquired, getting off her bed, her eyes unwavering from his shying eyes (?) to see what kind of sick joke he was trying to pull now. "What are you playing at, Redneck?"
"Hell, I was just askin'! Don't get your panties all in a knot." He rebutted bitterly, his usual scowl wringing his face as he hurriedly stomped out of her cell. Madeline anxiously bit her lip, holding back a shout that suddenly felt the need to stop him. Time was running out, in seconds he'd be gone, the opportunity at freedom gone!
"I'm comin', wait up!" She suddenly yelped, jolting out of her rationale as she rushed out behind him. She swung into the hallway to give him a halting palm. "Just let me get my stuff, Jesus…" "I must be out of my mind…" The allure of the outdoors even for a few hours was too enticing to pass up on compared to being holed up in this concrete cage for the rest of the week; she'd choose a ride with Daryl any day if it meant getting some sun on her skin!
Madeline quickly skidded back inside her cell and grabbed her backpack, tossing in any spare clothes and securely fastening the hoisters for her tomahawks onto her lap band. Suddenly she had never felt so excited for something as simple as a hunting run…
"We'll be back." Daryl grunted to Rick as the mysterious couple passed him by in the hallway.
"I didn't figure you'd be taking Miss Sinclair with you to go hunting." He chuckled mischievously, an incredulous grin framing his face as his sky-blue eyes sparkled with interest. The sheriff was certainly unaccustomed to Daryl spending so much time with another person to begin with, and certainly not with the very person he threatened to kill not a week ago. Rick, however, was willing to see just how far this new relationship would go between the two hard-asses before he would dare to intervene. Beside the point, it was actually humbly entertaining to see the two feuding like a married couple in a place that hadn't heard laughter in over a month.
"Well I didn't neither, but little girl felt like being useful for once and practically begged me to take her." He grumbled devilishly, winking teasingly at the very angry young woman when she glared at him openly between the two older men. Rick conveniently wasn't looking to see the naughty gesture, so she retaliated in the only way she could think of, thus making her seem even guiltier.
"I did not!" She flustered, her rosy cheeks burning indignantly at the false statement that made Rick bumble and grin like a fool. It was too cruel of the world when all of a sudden that goddamned lock of hair magically flipped out from her ponytail and Madeline could hardly stop the irritable shriek that was about to erupt from within her as she hastily brushed it behind her ear for the millionth time.
"S'alright, sweetheart, most women, you see, can't resist my animal magnetism." The purr in Daryl's voice made her jaw drop in disbelief; she honest to God wanted to combust into the flames of her shame and die right there on the spot. "Was this guy even real anymore?!"
"WHATEVER!" She squealed brashly, rushing past the two men and bee-lining for Daryl's motorcycle before she would punch the stupid, egotistical, narcissistic bastard right in his jaw. Dismissing their conversation with the slam of the iron door, she huffed and puffed her mighty stride all the way to the awaiting vehicle. She was going to get him back, and as the sinister mastermind sauntered out of the prison, she suddenly had an idea of how. Idiot hadn't even thought of making it hard for her...
Madeline prayed to whatever God that what she was about to do would royally piss off Daryl Dixon to the point where he was screaming and yammering in her face. "This'll teach ya, smartass!" Madeline waited for the precise moment; she could hardly keep the cigarette to her lips once her giggles bubbled from her mouth at the thought Daryl's look of horror and rage that she was smoking his precious pack of Marlboros. He needed payback for embarrassing her like that in front of Rick, and if he had concealed his little unhealthy habit a little less pitifully she might not have been so vile. Alas, Madeline was a very cruel, and very twisted woman, so sacrificing a few petty seconds of her life would be worth the laugh on her part.
The iron door screeched in announcement to Daryl and Rick's arrival, Madeline proudly hoisted the redneck's silver lighter and as she heard Daryl scream and shout in protest from afar. The world seemed to turn in slow motion as she took that first drag from the slender cancer-stick and awarded Daryl Dixon with an award winning grin of reprieve. She'd certainly hit the jackpot.
"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" "Check-and-fucking-mate."
Daryl Dixon was on her like white on rice, in every sense of the term. She used the kickback of his bike to keep herself upright while the fumigating redneck thundered and shouted to the heaven's dismissal inches away from her face. Madeline kept her angelic smile and even batted her eyes a few times while she drowned out his raging voice in the effort it took to take another long drag from his cigarette.
"I'm sorry, but after that little exchange with Rick I had to have smoke, Daryl." She sported a similar naughty wink to him when she added softly in his ear, "I just couldn't take the fact that he found out our little secret." Their eyes were deadlocked and the redneck had to square his jaw before he went belligerent and flipped his precious bike over with her on it. "Just who in the hell did she think she was?!"
From a considerable distance away, Rick wasn't sure if he should be concerned, or just flat out laughing at the show the angry couple was putting on. Once Daryl started off ranting and rambling about Madeline smoking his favorite pack of cigarettes, he headed in another direction so that at least one of them could get the hell out of there if they needed to cool their tempers. He couldn't tell if they were seriously fighting or about to make out, but from the looks on their faces, Madeline was certainly enjoying the way Daryl was screaming at her. "This girl must be the devil if she enjoys being yelled at like that…" He could recall from the wonderful midnight domestic disturbance calls how some women especially liked riling up their husbands just to have the satisfaction that they could make their husbands lose control and look like a fool in front of the men of authority. Poor Daryl didn't know he was giving her exactly what she wanted by looking like a giant five year old having a temper tantrum. The sheriff was far enough to where he couldn't exactly hear what they were arguing about, but he what he could see was Daryl yanking the cigarette from her mouth and start to smoke it, earning a slight cringe from the presumptuous Rick Grimes.
Daryl was still fumed when he yanked the cigarette out of Madeline's hand and put shoved it into his mouth like a child. He begrudgingly flung his leg over to ride his motorcycle while Rick turned around and readied to unlock the gates for the two to head out on their way. With a powerful roar of the engine, the two hurled down the pavement and headed toward the exit of the prison gates. He sure as hell hoped that the young woman would learn that if she was gonna play games, she was gonna lose. With Daryl, you didn't get even; you got your ass beat.
"Stupid girl…" He growled defiantly, refusing to acknowledge the rumble in his belly when she wrapped her slender arms around his waist. The shocked look on her face when he actually started smoking the used cigarette was definitely worth being lowered down a few dignity points. Her crystal blue eyes dilated for that second where her smooth pink lips were left slightly parted from where the smoke had once been. She sure as hell hadn't expected her to take a long drag and puff smoke into her face. Oh the pride went straight to his ego that he even boasted to add "You're gonna have plenty of dirty little secrets between us if you keep running that pretty little mouth of yours over my things."