Because it's St. Paddy's Day, I decided to post an O'Haracentric chapter (sort of). So enjoy!
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Dear Henry,
We've had a herd of uggies here, my brother and Carol went out to see if they could find out why or where they were coming from.
I think it was a rash decision, but I can understand the urgency. If there's threats out there, people releasing these things on us or…God forbid if they came from some poor group that got taken out from the inside…I don't really think I can handle the idea right now.
The thing is, it's been nearly twenty-four hours since they left and Merle and Cash went after them, but neither they or Carol or my brother have come back. There's enough leftover formula for Scout, but if Carol doesn't come back soon, the formula will only last a month. I hope to God nothing happened to that baby girl's mama. I prayed for the first time ever, I prayed for us.
I'm scared.
I think for the first time in a long time I actually feel unsafe and…I guess you don't want to hear about my problems. Everyone here says they'll come home, they say they can't be missing, but I have a bad feeling about this time. I feel like…I feel like we're due for some bad gris-gris.
Sid delivering this letter says they got some walkers there as well, though thankfully no loss of life on their end. I hope he made it safely to you and I hope that all is well in Tennessee.
I send all my love to you and your men. I hope the winter is still treating you kindly up North.
Love,
Adele
P.S. – Celeste and Landon both miss you. I think Langdon is awfully attached to you. I hope you come and see them both soon. At least Langdon, he's growing so fast.
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**O'Hara**
Lifting his eyes from the letter, he met the gaze of the blond from Delgado's group, the one who was shovelling canned beans and pork into his mouth from the table of the farmhouse they were bunkered in.
"How long did it take you to get here?" He asked calmly.
"A day and half, hard riding," Sid said. "I was worried infected were going to chew on my ass if I stopped. Didn't see many though. Two, maybe three."
"Any signs of anyone living?"
Sid shook his head.
O'Hara turned to Fredricks who was also heaping some chow on his plate, the Sergeant raised his brows.
He had a serious decision to make. Give up their post here in Tennessee, allow it to get overrun with all manners of disgusting post-apocalyptic rabble or stay and ignore the problems of the convent group in Georgia.
He thought of Adele's neat handwriting, of the words 'I'm scared' and it settled heavily in his stomach. He didn't join up to make his father happy. In the end he joined up to do right, to help people, to ensure they didn't ever need to feel scared.
"Fredricks," he addressed the man.
"Yes, sir."
"Hold our position here with the men, I'm going back with this one."
"No, you're not," Sid objected. "I rode hard here, Digger needs to rest up a day or two. He's earned that."
"Then I'm going on my own, I'll take a jeep."
Fredricks winced. "We ran out of diesel last night."
Sighing, O'Hara plucked on his gloves. "Then I'll walk."
"Here," Fredricks said, tossing a keychain at him. "Take the clunker!"
O'Hara eyed the keys sullenly.
"Or walk all the way to Georgia," his Sergeant added.
"Hard to remain inconspicuous in a diesel piece of crap that rattles and chugs like a damned steam engine," O'Hara said.
"Well," the Sergeant said with a sly grin. "I'll have a rickshaw built for your return and we'll get one of the grunts to tug it for you. Until then, just be careful on the curves."
"Why? Because the doors might fall off?" O'Hara murmured, grabbing his pack and stuffing it full of things he'd need.
"She's the only thing that has a full tank," Fredricks said.
"Because no one is fool enough to use her," O'Hara objected, moving to the door. "Take care of my men, Sergeant."
"Wait up," Fredricks said, catching O'Hara just outside the door.
The two CO's eyed a grunt warily, sending the man who had been outside smoking, back into the building.
"Are you sure you don't want to take some men with you?" Fredricks asked.
O'Hara squinted at the forest surrounding their temporary fortification and shrugged. "Can't spare the men."
"Can the men spare their CO?" Fredricks shot back.
"Probably not," O'Hara said. "But God help us if we lose these allies."
Fredricks shifted on his feet. "Are you sure that's all it is, Hank?"
Uncomfortable to be so familiar with someone, O'Hara kicked at a raised plank on the porch floor and frowned.
"It's just I know that girl back at the convent was—"
"I've done my best to discourage her, Sergeant," O'Hara broke in swiftly. "Not that it's anyone's business. I merely keep in contact with her because she's the one that volunteered to relay our messages to the convent leaders."
"Look, Hank, we're friends," Fredricks said.
This caused O'Hara to snap his head up from the planks of the porch, eyes staring hard at the man.
"We are," Fredricks insisted. "I know you think you live on your own private island, but we've had each other's backs in some pretty hairy stuff, man. I just want you to know that I need you around. I'm capable, but I'm not shit compared to you, Hank. You have to know this. What's that song you taught me that night in Nashville?"
"Arthur McBride," O'Hara said.
"Yeah, we're like those brothers, clubbing dicks over the heads and messing up their shit."
"Those two were cousins," O'Hara said.
"Doesn't matter, small fries," Fredricks said, his hand falling on O'Hara's shoulder lightly, knowing the man hated to be touched.
O'Hara tensed, but accepted the touch. There was really no one he trusted more than Fredricks. Fredricks was safe. Fredricks had never hurt him.
"We're brothers now, Hank," Fredricks said. "I want you to know this. I'll be here for you as long as you need me. So be careful out there, alright?"
O'Hara nodded.
"And take Rhoades," Fredricks added.
O'Hara scowled deeply, eyes glaring blue flames.
Fredricks laughed. "Come on, he's not that bad."
"The man's a timber wolf," O'Hara snarled. "I'd rather drink dishwater."
"Well, that's unfair," Rhoades said, dropping his pack down heavily on the porch beside them.
"How could you possibly know I would be heading out?" O'Hara demanded.
"Saw you two on the porch about to make out, didn't know you were going anywhere, just wanted to bust up the romantic moment," the man clapped Fredricks hard on the shoulder. "Cock block you a little."
"I wouldn't make out with Hank when I'm so into you, Otis," Fredricks said, moving towards Rhoades and pecking him on the cheek.
Rhoades shoved the man hard and laughed. "Get off me you ass!"
"Ooh, I love the rough stuff, Marine," Fredricks cooed.
"Alright, knock it off, both of you," O'Hara said. "You're testing the tensile strength of the DADT policy."
"Want some, Major?" Rhoades teased. "Jealous?"
"Shut up and get in that truck," O'Hara growled.
Fredricks waited for Rhoades, not even knowing what he was doing, to hop into the shitty old Ford they had waiting for them, before whispering. "Try not to kill him, Hank."
"I make no promises," O'Hara said. "I'm only human." He took a step towards the truck in the driveway, then stopped and turned back to his second-in-command. "Take care of yourself, Fredricks." He faltered, frowning.
"It's Danny, sir." Fredricks said.
"Of course, I knew that, Donny," O'Hara teased, his face straight.
Fredricks beamed. "Keep them off your ass, sir."
"And away from the food, Danny."
"Kiss him!" Rhoades shouted from the truck.
"No one would know," O'Hara said, "if I did end up killing him."
"For diplomatic reasons with the Marines, maybe you best not," Fredricks suggested.
"We'll see, it's a long drive to the convent."
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**Carol**
"You ever thought it would end like this?"
They were huddled close together in the darkness for warmth, having finally arranged the old stones under their asses to keep them up from the sludgey muck, the two dead walkers pushed as far from them as possible, piled over the old rusted bucket they used for a latrine.
She sucked the last drop of ketchup from the packet he had given her and tossed it into the darkness. "The handsome Cajun and the well were a surprise."
At the bottom of an old well shaft, they sat expecting a walker to tumble down on them at any moment, expecting someone from the convent to find them soon enough. It had been two days though and no one showed up yet, not even a walker since the first two (which she wasn't complaining about at all.)
She was thankful now for the Lieutenant's oversized pack, for it contained not only food enough to last them a week (granted they were tiny soup cracker packets, some hard, once gummy candy and ketchup), but a couple of water bottles and a flare gun for when they heard voices or shouting.
"What about you? This how you envisioned the end?" She asked, trying to keep the situation light.
He shifted under her in the dark, having put himself under her like a gentleman to take the brunt of the chill and damp. "Well, no, I imagined the end to involve an angry ex-nun. Quite possibly when we return."
"Yeah, I imagine Daryl will blast me too," she said.
"I can't believe you fell down a well and dragged me with you," he teased.
She shoved him hard. "I can't believe you think that's what actually happened, your mind must be getting scrambled without sunlight, because as I recall it, it was your big dumb feet that planted themselves on this rotted wood and tumbled in."
He chuckled. "And you just…appeared in this well with me? Placing blame is hardly the thing to do right now, ange."
Smiling against the situation, Carol finished another ketchup packet and tossed it.
"Ah, someone will find us…" he sniffed. "This is the most embarrassing thing to happen to ever happen to me."
"Except for that time you were swimming in tampon boxes and screaming 'I don't want to die like this'," she pointed out.
He poked her ribs and she squirmed. "Cabri has a big mouth."
She laughed.
When the laughter died, she looked back up at the opening above them. "You know, if we had a few more walkers down here, you could stand on them and give us enough extra reach, I could get out…"
"Yeah, and when it rains it would pour, we'd get more than we'd bargain for looking for uggies," the Lieutenant said.
"Better chance than starving down here," she pointed out.
He was quiet, no doubt considering it.
"No," he said. "We'll save it for a last resort before starving."
She was quiet, accepting his decision. Things weren't too desperate yet.
"Can I ask you something?" She asked after a long period of her awkwardly trying hard not to squirm too much on his lap.
"Yep."
"Daryl tells you things, right?"
"Sometimes."
"Does he talk about me? About us?" She asked.
The Lieutenant was quiet, before drawling slowly. "Ye-es."
"Do you think he's…I mean, I know he's not…he'd never make it known, but do you think he's disappointed that we had a girl? He's been…different lately."
"How different?"
It bothered her that the Lieutenant never said anything about Daryl being disappointed in Scout, but she put that thought to the back burner.
"I don't know…it started before Scout was born, he was…not interested in…sex." She quickly added, "sorry, never mind. It's too personal."
"No, now, it's…it's bothering you?"
She shrugged. "I guess, I got used to living like a – forgive the term – nun with Ed. I mean, when we had sex, I'd lay there and think of Kentucky, but I love Daryl and I enjoy sex with him, but lately he's been avoiding it. Am I…is it me?"
The Lieutenant settled his chin on the top of her head. She could practically hear him thinking.
"Mais," he said finally. "You have to realize that Daryl was practically a virgin when you two hooked up. I think, I think he's not used to so much physical intimacy. And you're wrong about him being disappointed in Scout, I don't think I met a man who's so devoted to his little girl. He's the kind of daddy I wish I could be."
She smiled. It was a relief to speak with the Lieutenant, even his voice soothed her worries. "You're a great father, Lieutenant. Don't sell yourself short."
He shrugged. "I'm not really," he said. "I don't have enough time for them, I'm…there are much better daddy's out there and Daryl is one of them."
"Well, if we're playing the bad parent game, let's talk about this one here," she said. "Lost my daughter, got her killed, and now here I am in a well while my baby girl lives off of…oh God, I don't know. Formula, I'm hoping."
Wrapping his arms around her tight, the Lieutenant held her and she felt his love. He was a giant teddy bear and his hugs were like blankets fresh from the dryer.
"Okay, no more of that talk," he said. "I don't like hearing you belittle yourself when it's a stone cold lie. Let's change the subject."
She smirked sadly and started in on something that had been bothering her for a while. "You know Andrea saved my life once?"
"Did she?"
"Hm, I thought she died when she did it."
"She's a brave woman."
"But she's trying to stir up shit," Carol went on firmly. "I can't abide that."
"She's worried, I guess."
"She's power hungry and it's really getting under my skin. I can't have someone second guessing Grace and I every time we make a decision."
The Lieutenant was quiet.
"I'm sorry," Carol said. "I'm unloading all kinds of things on you today."
She felt the man smiled into her hair. "No, it's okay, ange, you know I like a woman with fire. I'm just…soaking it all in. Despite my mouth always going, I don't like to give opinions or judgements so hastily."
Dropping her hand as he fell silent again, she toyed with the first thing it made contact with, without even thinking about what it was, until he flexed his fingers under hers and she realized she was toying with his hand.
She let go sheepishly.
"Sorry."
He was still quiet and for a moment she thought she embarrassed the both of them by taking his hand in hers.
"If you want," he began slowly, not even mentioning the hand thing, "from now on, when she opens her mouth against you two, I'll be more vocal."
She smiled. "I appreciate the support, but I didn't mean…I wasn't trying to recruit you or anything."
"No," he said. "In the Corps, you talk shit about a superior, you get written up, if that. No, it's about subversive shit stirring. You can't discredit someone's leadership or weaker minds will follow. You and Gracie have every right to be in charge, you were voted in fairly. I'll be your muscle, if you need."
She nodded. "Thank you."
"You know you'll always have my support, Carol," the Lieutenant said, taking her hand without hesitation. "And not just because of Daryl, but…because I've always liked you, ange. You're family."
Carol could have sworn the smile she wore brightened the dark well.
"Oo-ye-yi," the Lieutenant murmured. "Those uggies are stinking up the place."
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Brazen Hussy - Careful, friend, you're treading in dangerous waters talking about Carol that way...
vickih - Trust me. I had problems...but...yeah, it is what it is.
Yazzy x - Always look on the bright side of life...
Ciao Bella - Hehe, you lazy toad! (Can't say much more about being lazy though, I've done that before...)
Claire Randall Fraser - Sorry, hon. My story was getting too sugary. I need to balance it with some death and darkness.
Princess Cruella - Milton is going to be such a cutie, I agree! Now, he needs a mama for Toby...hehe...
Surplus Imagination - It did. I'm not going to be a happy person when this story is over, I can tell you that much...
itsi3 - Thanks! ^_^