AN: Here we are, another chapter here.
I hope you enjoy! Please don't forget to let me know what you think!
111
Daryl slipped out of the tent when he woke. It felt far beyond the time when Lydia should have woken him, and he emerged to find her sleeping on a blanket near the low burning fire they'd all sat around earlier. He shook her awake and sent her to bed, excusing all her half-mumbled explanations.
"She hasn't been sleeping long," the brunette, Alice, said. She was hugging herself as she walked up from obviously taking a look around the camp for any unwanted guests—living or dead. "Mel let her stay up with her. I only took over a little while ago. I told her she could nap with Muh and me both awake. I hope she's not in trouble on my account."
Some small distance away, the old woman appeared to be entertaining herself with something she was doing over a small fire that she had started away from the main one—probably so that she wouldn't bother Lydia while she slept.
Daryl didn't feel like they were at any risk sleeping with the new people around, but he'd still figured they might take joint watches for a few nights while they all settled in and got used to each other.
"She shoulda woke me a while ago," Daryl said.
Alice finally closed the short distance between them that her walk around the camp had put between them, and she smiled, her expression only barely visible in the light provided by an almost full moon.
"I don't know. I think maybe she wanted to give Mama and Daddy a little more time together. I don't need a chaperone, really, Daryl. Neither does Muh. You can go back to sleep for a while—unless you think I'm super sneaky and can move all this without waking you up. You should know, though, that was me that tripped and knocked down all those pots earlier and spooked the fuck out of the dog. I'm not the super-secret stealth weapon of our cohort."
Daryl laughed in response.
"Who is the secret stealth weapon of your cohort?" Daryl asked.
Alice hummed, her voice making it clear what he couldn't easily see on her face. She wasn't sure that any of them were super stealthy.
"It's definitely not me," she said. "And Sadie doesn't have a clue how loud she's being sometimes. Maybe Muh? She doesn't talk much. Not unless she just wants to say something. Beau can be super quiet—when he's trying to be."
"We're all quieter when we try to be," Daryl said. "Look—we were gonna wait until the mornin' to talk to you, but…if you guys are still interested…"
Alice smiled.
"That means you decided we were worthy road companions?" She asked, more than a touch of teasing to her tone.
Daryl lit a cigarette and offered her one. She took it and thanked him for the offer. He lit it for her.
"We ain't lookin' for like a group group," Daryl said.
"A group group?" Alice asked.
"We ain't lookin' for some crazy ass rules and expectations," Daryl said. "So—if you got some shit in your pocket that y'all plan to pull out sometime, either go ahead and pull that shit out now or know we're gonna fuckin' leave if it makes a debut later."
"I don't think we've got any shit at all to pull out," Alice said. "But—I could assure you better, I think, if you were a bit more descriptive of what you're concerned about."
"Any of you assholes crazy?" Daryl asked.
"Is anyone not at least a little crazy?" Alice asked.
"Touché," Daryl responded. "But—I'm talkin' about wearin' fuckin' skin, beatin' heads in with bats, fucking…kill everyone crazy."
"Nooo," Alice said, drawing the word out. "That sounds even more specific than I was expecting."
"I'm just sayin' that we don't wanna deal with no crazy ass people, and we will walk the fuck away from that nonsense."
"No crazy ass people of that variety around here," Alice assured him. "I mean—Muh has her own…her own brand of…of whatever it is that she does, but…"
Daryl watched the old woman peacefully and happily brewing something in a pot on her little fire. Dog was sitting beside where she sat on an overturned bucket, and he had put his head on her knee. She was petting him and cooing something to him, though Daryl couldn't exactly make out more than mumbled sounds from across the short distance.
"I think she's harmless," Daryl said. He sighed and scratched the back of his neck. "Truth of it is, I think you're all fuckin' harmless."
"Don't sound so disappointed about it," Alice said. "I mean—if you want me to fuck some shit up…those pots I knocked over never saw what was coming."
Daryl laughed.
"You're an asshole," he informed her.
"And you're a man who's just looking out for your family," Alice said. "I respect that. The truth is—we are pretty fucking harmless. Unless, of course, we've got a reason not to be. Same as you. Then, we do whatever the hell we have to do to stay alive and keep each other alive." Daryl hummed at her and considered that information. It was probably true. These people wouldn't be here, not this many years after the shit had hit the proverbial fan, if they didn't have some serious survival skills. The thing was, there were survivors who survived because they wanted to find a life, and there were survivors who seemed to survive to fuck up everyone else's life. Daryl felt like he and Carol had found the latter most of the time but, maybe, they'd finally found the former.
"We just want to build a life," Daryl admitted. "A real one. For whatever time we've got left. Honest work, livestock, gardens…"
"Peace," Alice said.
"Peace," Daryl echoed.
"Can I ask—how long you two have been married?" Alice asked. She threw a hand up and waved at Muh. The little old lady passed somewhat close to them, Dog trailing behind her, on her way to her cart for something.
"What's she doin'?" Daryl asked.
Alice laughed.
"Probably making a potion or something," Alice said. "At least that's what Beau would call it. It's usually just herbal tea. You might've looked in her cart, but she's got a ton of plants and seeds. She's been collecting them since we found her. Back when we found her, she just had a satchel, but I'd bet you anything that three fourths of the weight she was carrying were bags of seeds."
"What kinda seeds?" Daryl asked.
"You name it," Alice said. "Honestly, I don't know. I mean I know some of the herbs and things, but I never got into it that deeply. It's all harmless. Or, at the very least, everything she serves us is harmless. She's got pot. I do know that."
Daryl laughed.
"I guess there's no harm in a little weed," he said. "Especially not when you're like—what? Seven hundred years old?"
"Takes the edge off at any age," Alice said. "She's probably brewing up some treats for you right now. You're new. She loves making teas for everyone. They're usually pretty good, anyway. So—how long did you say you were married?"
The old woman that they had been talking about walked back into hearing distance—back to her little fire where she settled and stirred, into the water, all the things she'd brought wrapped up in her skirt.
"Not long enough," Daryl said.
"I hear you," Alice said. "I think—no matter how long you're together, it's never long enough if you really love each other. Mel and I have probably been together like thirty years. Since we were dumb ass kids that didn't really know what we were doing. Lydia's probably what—almost twenty?"
"Who the hell knows?" Daryl mused. He felt himself relaxing. Alice was easy to talk to, and he liked talking to people who were easy to talk to—the kind that you could tell had no expectation of you and, therefore, wouldn't be disappointed no matter who the hell you turned out to be—so long as, of course, you weren't a completely morally despicable person. "We're thinkin' seventeen, maybe?"
"If I were guessing for Beau, I'd say he was maybe sixteen or seventeen," Alice said. "It's hard to say. The days and the years—they all blur together these days. He was a kid when we found him, though. It's impossible to know how old he is when he didn't even know."
"That's the truth," Daryl agreed. Alice looked at him and he felt his face run warm. He didn't need to clearly see her expression to imagine it. One day, if they were really to spend their lives with these people, they would have to come at least somewhat clean about their pasts. Daryl didn't want to make that decision without Carol, though. He didn't want to overshare what was her life, too. "I mean—it's hard enough to know how much time has passed and…if he didn't know…makes sense."
"You need some help, Muh?" Alice called out. She barely had to raise her voice. The old lady, despite her age, hadn't seemed to have any trouble hearing. Her eyesight, too, had seemed good enough—all things considered—as Daryl had witnessed her doing things the night before. She had not a single tooth in her tiny head, and she reminded Daryl a great deal of the old apple-head dolls that he used to see around. Still, for her obviously advanced age, she appeared to be in pretty good health. From this distance, she could probably hear every word that Alice and Daryl had said—even the ones they'd said about her.
Her response was a half-hearted grunt of dismissal. She was enjoying her activity, and she put a few extra sticks she'd found under the cooking grate she was using for her pot.
"She don't sleep?" Daryl asked.
"Not as much as you'd think," Alice said. "She prefers to sleep in pockets, really. More like naps throughout the night and day. She dozes a lot while we travel. We let her ride with Beau any time we're going far and she sleeps against him some while he drives. He's got enough energy for the both of them, so he never needs anyone to take over for him."
Daryl laughed, and Alice echoed the laughter. Daryl lit another cigarette for himself and passed her one.
"This is real tobacco," Alice said. "Muh smokes—I guess it's like rabbit tobacco or something. It's not real tobacco. It's not terrible, but it'll make your throat raw."
"If she's mixin' it with pot, I guess she don't give a damn," Daryl said.
"I guess you're right about that," Alice said. A friendly silence fell between them. The camp was quiet. There was no significant sound from anywhere, really. Everyone sleeping was doing so quietly. There was the occasional "snuff" from the horses, or some other movement from the animals. Every now and again, a stick popped in Muh's fire, or Daryl heard the metallic clang of her spoon accidentally bumping the side of the pot. Occasionally, the old woman mumbled—singing or talking to herself quietly enough that nobody could clearly hear—or an owl that was somewhere nearby hooted. Those sounds, though, almost seemed like silence themselves. Alice broke the silence first. "Can I be nosy? I mean—I am nosy, but…if you don't want me to be, you can tell me to go to hell and keep my questions to myself."
"I won't tell you to go to hell," Daryl said. "But I won't promise that I'll answer your questions."
"Fair enough," Alice said. "You and Carol…"
"What about us?" Daryl asked.
"You're obviously…very much in love." Hearing a blunt confirmation of what he already knew made Daryl's stomach feel oddly fluttery. He hummed his agreement. "I mean—we knew that. Hell—Sadie can't hear anything, but I know enough sign language to sign 'they're fucking' so she's as in the loop as everyone else out here was tonight."
"Shit…" Daryl stammered. His face was hot, and he felt the uncomfortable feeling of embarrassment. At the same time, though, it wasn't the kind of embarrassment that made him sorry for what he'd done. He wouldn't have changed a thing. Maybe making love to Carol just in the edge of the woods with nothing more than a few scraggly ass bushes to keep them covered from prying eyes wasn't the most romantic thing in the world, but it had certainly been good to him, and he was confident that he'd hit enough good spots to curl Carol's toes at least once.
Alice just laughed quietly.
"It's all good. I mean—get it where you can, right? But—I was just being nosy…and I didn't want to ask Lydia or stir up things with Carol since she seemed a little…something…before you went out to scare away whatever might have been in the woods. But—is Lydia your only child? I guess—that's not what I mean. I see she's your only child, I mean, there's nobody else here, but…"
"No," Daryl said. Immediately, he wondered why he'd said it. It had just come out, though, almost without him thinking. Maybe that was the problem—he hadn't thought. "No," he said, deciding to accept that he'd already said it, and it was simply just what the hell it was. There was no taking it back.
"Shit—I'm sorry," Alice said. "I don't know what the hell to say. Maybe I should have thought of that before I asked stupid ass questions, right?"
Daryl laughed to himself.
"You're curious," he said. "That's all. And—I'm prob'ly gonna ask you a lot of stupid ass questions. Just—don't ask that one to Carol, OK? At least—not for a while. Not unless she brings that shit up."
"I hear you loud and clear," Alice said. "You know—I hate to say that finding Beau was one of those things that is like something wonderful in the tragedy, or something poetic like that. Mel and I wanted kids before all of this. We had talked about adopting. Maybe even going some artificial route or something, though we didn't really like that. It skeeved us both out. We meant to adopt, but…we never got around to it. Who knew the world would end, and this kid would lose his parents, and we'd find his half-feral ass trying to survive alone, and we'd just be like 'now we have a son'?"
"I guess—shit like that happens to help everyone remember that after all this shit, there's still some good, too," Daryl mused. It was, after all, certainly true in his life. They had seen some shit, but things were looking up now and, really, he could only imagine that they were just going to keep getting better. They were, after all, not that far from what he believed would be their home in northern Wyoming.