Chapter 13 Different
A breeze came through the window blowing the heavy wet strands of Pandora's hair. Pandora didn't move to shut it or move the hair form her face. She stayed in the chair she had pulled to the window, knees drawn to her chest and a heavy blanket wrapped around her. The heavy feeling the blanket was providing felt almost like a hug, almost like something was wrapping its arms around her and holding her tight.
It had been a week since they had made it back, a week since they had killed hundreds of the dead to take back their home. A week since she had learned that while she was away, the wolves had come. Since then she had not left the room. Not to get food, to see Abraham or Aaron, nothing. Every time someone tried to come in she would promptly lock herself in the bathroom, or slip away into some corner of her mind refusing to speak. Daryl still slept in the room but he was gone all day by the time he was back she was sleeping. Every night he tried to wake her, every time he came back he tried to get her to speak. The only time she opened her mouth and made any sound was to scream at night when the nightmares came.
She had lost count of how many times Denise and others had come in and sat by the bathroom door talking to her. She hadn't opened the door yet though. Empty plates of food littered the room, clothes piled into corners. She hadn't cleaned or eaten really, it just kept piling up.
A knock on her door made her turn.
"Pandora, come on it's me." Daryl's voice came from the other side of the door.
She tried to push herself up from the chair to move to the bathroom, but every movement became too hard to complete. Her body felt weak, empty. How long had it been since she had eaten, a day, maybe two, maybe three? She couldn't remember. She had gotten up not long ago to shower and change. When she walked past the plate of food nothing appealed to her. Lost in her own thoughts she didn't even hear the click of the door opening.
"Fuck," There was a whispered curse from Daryl. "Doc come on in, Ahm need you."
He was in front of her then snapping his fingers in her face. Her hand came up to push his out of the way. Even that took effort as just the act of lifting her hand made her feel weak.
"No, no, you gotta eat or the Doc sticks a needle in you."
Pandora dimly registered the word needle. It had her reaching for the plate that he put in front of her. She didn't taste anything just put it in her mouthsz, bite, chew, shallow, and again.
Once again he was reaching for the plate, this time it was because it was empty.
"Did she eat?" Denise was asking from somewhere behind her. "Get her to drink this."
Daryl was handing her something else now, a tall glass with a straw. The glass was cold, her gaze flickered down. It was filled with a dark brown liquid, her stomach flipped in protest. Nose wrinkled, she tried to hand it back to him.
"Drink it." His tone left no room for argument; a shaking hand took the glass back from him.
It tasted like chocolate; it was heavy settling into her stomach. Under the glare of Daryl, she finished the drink and handed it back to him. It left an after taste of chemicals that coated her mouth.
"That's real good." He was beside her now, looking down at her. "What number are you on?"
It was a question he still asked everyday even when she wasn't able to give him an answer. Still he waited, Denise was there again too beside her.
"Pandora you have to let us help you." There was a pleading tone in her voice. How could they even ask her that, helping her would be allowing her to never leave this room again. Outside of this door there were people and people were unpredictable. A sigh escaped her lips and she held up three fingers, the tension was a thrum in her veins.
"I can't leave here," She whispered half to herself. "I can't be out there." There was the barrel of the gun in her face again, the rope around her wrists. The vision she had put together in her head of the wolves coming right through the gate, right for her. She was rocking back and forth, she felt it, but she couldn't stop.
"Damn it." Daryl growled. He sounded farther away now. "Ya gotta give her something to calm her down. It's been a damn week and she won't leave here."
Anger in his voice directed at her. Angry she couldn't get her shit together long enough to even step outside her goddamn room. Rocking harder, she covered her ears with her hands, unable to bear the sound of his voice.
There was more talking but she couldn't make it out with her hands firmly in place over her ears. It was better this way anyway, better not to hear them. But when someone pulled her hands down from her ears she jumped and started screaming.
Tara was kneeling down in front of her now, holding her hands down. Denise was beside her hovering.
"Pandora look at me and breathe ok?" Tara was speaking to her now, her voice low and controlled. Pandora only nodded, forcing her breathing to become slow and controlled. She wasn't sure how much time she spent like that, but it must have been a while.
Denise spoke to her slowly as she breathed, telling her all the things that she knew to be true. Reminding her they fixed the wall, they killed the dead and it was safe again.
"I almost died out there," She finally whispered her voice was horse from lack of use for so long. "Every time I close my eyes I see either the wolves or the barrel of that gun in my face." Where ever these words had been locked away they were spilling out now in a panicked wave. "It would have been so easy! All of this would have been over. I'm a burden Denise don't you see that?! The best survivor and the most valuable person here spend their days taking care of me and for what? I can't even get my shit together. What could I ever offer this place?"
The room was silent then, but she was moving, pushing past Tara to rush for the bathroom door. Flinging the door open she rushed inside, gasping and sobbing heavily. Something inside her cracked, the wall she had up holding back the days she spent outside the wall shattered like glass.
The door shut behind her; whirling, she saw Daryl moving towards her. Her hands went out to stop him at first but then she found herself clinging to him. He was a life raft, and she had been close to drowning for so long. She sobbed helplessly against his chest, guilt, grief and fear flowing out of her.
He held her tightly though pressing her head into his chest. He whispered to her then, first the usual stuff that she was safe and everything was fine. Then he told her stories, from before his group came here, from even before the world turned to shit. She listened, pressed against him trying to breathe slowly.
"Ah should have never brought you out there." He whispered when she had finally stopped crying. Calm was settling over her now, calmer than she had felt in a long time. The calm you can only get from emptying an ocean of emotion through tears. "I should have known it wouldn't be safe."
She looked at him then, moving a strand of hair from his eyes. "I don't blame you." Her voice was a thin whisper, the action of moving her hand made her feel like she had run a marathon. She didn't really blame him; she blamed herself for not being enough. Not strong enough, not fast enough or not brave enough. She was always falling short of what was needed; this new world wasn't made for people like her anymore.
Daryl shook his head slowly and leaned back, hand braced against the floor. "You ready to get up?" He asked lightly. She realized then that she was sitting on the floor, in his lap no less. Her face colored as she leaned away from him.
She actually nodded yes, which surprised even herself. She was feeling better now than she had in a long time. Standing, she turned her back to the mirror not ready to face her own reflection. She walked back into the bedroom; everything had been put back in its proper place. The dirty clothes she had lying around were gone, replaced by some new ones folded on the dresser.
All the things she had thrown around during her fits were put back in their place and reorganized. A few protein bars and some new books were on her dresser. The sight made her heart ache, that feeling was quickly replaced by guilt because they were all so selfless.
Her feet found themselves moving back to the big chair in front of the window. Daryl followed pulling up the second one beside her. The room had been set up to house the both of them, it was a little cramped but she never once heard him complain. Two chairs and two beds, he had some things the drawers. Before they had gone out of the walls he hadn't been staying here as often, after he slept here every night.
"What number are you on?" He asked leaning back against the chair watching her.
She held up three fingers, anxiety buzzing at her nerves. She turned away not wanting to look at him. He seemed to always be able to see right through her, sometimes it was unnerving.
"Ya know Ah ain't letting you do that again, right?" By that she was guessing he meant her nearly becoming catatonic, because she couldn't think of anything else she had done. "Gotta ask you something."
Pandora turns slightly tilting her head to side as a way to show him he can continue. Her mind struggled to pay attention to him, when people were calm and quiet it helped as too much energy made her shut down.
"Ah got a new place just for me little townhouse, Ah want you to come with me."
The question shocked her slightly, but she couldn't seem to bring herself to respond. She tucked her legs under her body to keep her body heat in. Turning to him she only managed to raise her eyebrows at him questioning.
"Ya don't have to answer right now." He said, back-tracking now, hands raised and watching her cautiously.
She wasn't going to answer right now anyway; she wasn't sure that her head would let her get an answer out. Her body was tried more so now with trying to follow this conversation.
She wasn't sure how much time had passed as they sat in comfortable silence. Her eyes drifted back to the window, everyone around never seemed to stop moving. Everyone was always working, new walls, fixing homes, moving the debris from the tower. Part of her wished they she could be out there with, not that she was sure what she could even do.
She wasn't sure when it happened; she didn't even remember shutting her eyes. But then they were opening again, the bright light of the morning sun shining full force on her face. She shifted her bones and joints grinding from stiffness. For a few moments, she sat there stretching out the aches from her arms, lifting them above her head and out in front of her. Legs next, she un-tucked them from her under her, feet hitting the floor softly. Her knees groaned painfully when she tried to move them. With growing realization, she knew she needed to stand to work out the pain in her joints.
Fingers digging into the arm rest on the chair, she pushed hard, lifting her body up from the seat. Her entire body felt like it was full of heavy lead. Licking her lips, she tried to moisten the dryness in her mouth, nothing seemed to work. Fingers gripping the chair she tried to use it to support herself as she moved.
'Left foot, right foot, left foot right foot.' She told herself repeatedly as she made her way towards the bathroom door. With every step her sore and stiff body woke up more, every step was easier to take.
The bright lights of the bathroom burned her eyes, flicking all of them off save for one she moved to the shower in the dime light. Naked she took inventory on her injuries
"Afternoon." Daryl was sitting in her window seat now legs up on the window sill in front of him. Her gaze flickered to the tall glass of liquid beside him. Before she had even crossed the room, he was standing in front of her the glass in his hand.
"Drink." He told her sternly.
This time she did with little resistance. When she was finished, she set it down on the small table between the chairs. Settling back in the chair she tucked her legs under her again. Daryl was standing behind her now; he draped a heavy quilt on her shoulders. The heavy feeling was a comfort, reminding her to feel her body, to remember where she was.
Time stretched out between them in the comfortable silence. After a while she heard him shift in his chair, she turned slightly to look at him. "Ah need a smoke." He remarked standing and padding his pockets to look for the pack.
Oh, he was good she thought slowly, he was really good. He knew just what he was doing that glint in his eyes gave him up. Slowly gripping the sides of the chair she hoisted herself up. Her legs were shaky unsteady, weak from lack of food and movement. Still she stretched them, bending on leg straight out in front of her, before stretching it to the ceiling.
If Daryl was impressed he didn't show it, only turned and made his way out the door without a glance back at her. Pandora followed though each step slow and careful. You can go back inside at any moment she told herself. But inside, she couldn't smoke, Denise had made that clear to her.
The large sweater she wore allowed her to hide her shaking hands in the too long sleeves. The main floor was empty, save for a room in the back where Carl was still in a coma. She hadn't heard the whole story, not yet at least but she knew that he had been shot. Everyone had been worried he wouldn't make it, but she knew somehow she knew he would. These people were different, they always survived.
When she stepped out onto the porch Daryl was already leaning on the railing with a lite cigarette hanging from his lips. He smirked at her and handed her one of her own. The bitter tang of the smoke filled her lung once it was lit. The breath in her lungs was slower now savoring the smoke.
"Well, Well Mr. Dixon has done it." Aaron appeared on the side walk in front of the house. There was a small finch that she hoped was hiding by the size of her sweater.
Aaron had come by sometimes too, a few times she hadn't even hidden from him just sat in the big chair and listened. He was different now; she could tell everything that had happened had changed him. As it usually did, the world beyond these walls was cold now. People like Daryl, like Aaron they didn't exist out there anymore.
"I thought you two might be hungry." He was placing two plastic containers on the small table between the chairs. She titled her head to peer inside, it looked like pasta. "It's Eric's spaghetti, one of Daryl's favorites." He added with a wink in her direction.
Beside her, Daryl snorted but said thank you. Aaron was looking at her again, "I'd like to visit tomorrow if you're up for it."
Not trusting her voice, she only nodded. It was rewarded by his smile.
Turning to leave, he waved over his shoulder, "I'll see you tomorrow then Pandora."
When he was gone they finished smoking in silence, when Daryl finally put his out he jerked his head to the door.
"Come on let's eat."