Sunday bloody Sunday. Here we are again new chapter at hand! I am going to back catching up with the show soon, if anyone is a little ooc I do apologize no one is perfect.
Leave me some love!
Chapter 16 Forward
In her room, two ideas battled in her mind: go find Daryl to talk it through or go to bed. Her eyes drifted to the bed as it whispered promises of warmth and sleep. Sleep, that seemed to be all she did these days. She was perpetually tired these days. With the note still in her hand, she opened the top drawer of her night stand slipped it in. A bottle of pills caught her attention, so she reached out for it, turning it over in her hands.
Sleeping pills, they were the deciding factor. Dreams could not reach her through the haze of a drug-induced sleep. She takes two from the bottle, swallowing them dry. She put the bottle back where she found it, slipping off her pants, only leaving the oversized t-shirt on.
The covers were soft and cool once she slipped under them. A sigh escaped her; yes this was a better idea, better than facing whatever was waiting for her outside of this room. Blankets pulled up to her chin and legs tucked into her stomach, she let the pills drag her down into sleep.
Her dreams differed from they had been before. Where there was once terror, there was now a jumble of images from her time in Alexandria. Abraham on the guard tower asking her what she wanted but she didnt understand what he meant. The dream shifted then showing her and Daryl sitting on watch at night. She leaned her head on his shoulder creating a warm feeling in her chest. The images changed, and the wolves were inside the walls killing everyone. She didn't run though and there was a knife in her hand now. Anyone that came towards her died until the bodies piled up around her like a wall and she stood unmoving covered in warm sticky blood. The dream Pandora laughed, fingers dipping into the gore that remained of her attackers and spreading it over her face.
Then she was being shaken awake, a faint voice calling to her.
"Pandora? Pandora?"
Her eyes were heavy, the fog of the drugs trying to keep her under but she forced them open. In the darkness, Daryl was sitting on her bed. In the faint light she tell his hair mussed from sleep. She wrapped her heavy limbs around his middle; eyes slipping closed again as she let her face rest against him. With her cheek against his side, she whispered the details of her dream. She swore she heard him laugh or as close as he came to laughing.
"Ok, ok back to sleep then." He tried to untangle himself from her frame but she didn't allow it.
"Stay, I'm sorry." Refusing to let go, she allowed her fingers to wiggle hoping she would catch the blanket. His sigh vibrated through her, his fingers lifted the blanket with ease, slipping inside of it. She was conscious of his warmth against her tension slipping away. It was a tight fit, but as fucked up as it was she needed that closeness. Somewhere in her brain the wrongness of this should register, but her comfort was more important than what is deemed acceptable.
Before she slipped away again, she could feel him throw his arm over her and she pressed herself closer to his warmth before she drifted back to sleep. This time, no dreams found her.
Sunlight streamed over her, pushing past the cracks of her eye lids. Turning over, she tried to hide her face as her body collided with something solid and warm. A flush crept up her neck and face. That's right; Daryl was in her bed because she had asked him to stay. The part of her that would have normally cared must still be sleeping because she pressed herself closer, using his chest to hide the sun from her eyes.
"Mornin'" His voice still laced with sleep made her jump. Shifting she threw an arm over her eyes, in an attempt to block out the sun. "Hi." The word was a jumbled mess. Her mouth felt like she had stuffed it with cotton balls and they had sucked up all the moisture. She was heavy and out of sorts, it would be the last damn time she took those pills.
"Hungry?" Daryl asked, propping himself up on his elbow running his hand over his face.
She nodded, peering at him from under her arm. "I'm sorry." She whispered, fingers tangling in the materiel of his shirt. This should be weird, she thought. They were laying in a tiny single bed together after they had fought. But, it wasn't weird. She must be more fucked up then she thought.
"Hey," his tone was sharp. "Ahm sorry, Ah would never hurt you."
Pandora only nodded because she knew it was true. Wasn't it clear she had forgiven him? They were in the same bed for Christ sake. She didn't want to move right now as everything was fine, more than fine even. When she left this room that when everything would turn to shit.
"Come on," Daryl was moving now, getting out of the bed. She reached her hand over the warm space he left behind. Repositioning her arm, she watched him pull on a t-shirt and sweat pants. A flush crept up her neck at the sight of him. More fucked up then I thought the voice in her head scolded her.
"Ahm make us something." He was gone then, shutting the door behind him.
Hands scrubbed over her face. Again, the thought of leaving the sheltered pile of blankets on the bed was not appealing. She stayed where she was for a few long seconds, pulling the blankets over her head. She knew she would have to get up. Either on her own or Daryl would come drag her out of bed. That would be bad seeing as she wasn't even wearing pants. Mumbling curses, she dragged herself from the bed. Pulling on a pair of leggings, she had grown to hate jeans as there wasn't enough freedom of movement. Her eyes travelled down to her top, a big old t-shirt. She stripped it off, it caught a little on the wrapping still on her wrist but she paid it no mind. With a sports bra on, she tossed on a tank top and t-shirt over it with a light sweater, the end of the world was all about layering.
When she eventually stepped out into the hallway, other voices drifted up to her. Shutting her eyes, she listened. She could pick out Michonne, Rick and Daryl's rasp was the last thing she heard. It took several deep breaths before she could command her legs to walk down the steps.
Once she was standing in the kitchen, Michonne was handing her a steaming bowl of oatmeal with pears sitting on top. The other woman didn't speak, only nodded at Pandora in passing before moving down the hall to the room where the rest of the voices were coming from.
She could just take this bowl and go back to her room. That would be the best idea, all that human interaction didn't seem like something she felt like doing besides there was the fact she was just terrible at it. In her hands her breakfast was cooling. With a sigh, she headed towards the room in the back.
Inside the barely lit bedroom, she stood at the door. The conversation died away and everyone turned to look at her. Her trembling hands tightened around the bowl, trying to stop her shaking. Daryl was beside her then, his hand on her lower back guiding her to the only empty chair in the room. She guessed that was where he had been sitting. Around her the conversation picked up again, with a spoon of oatmeal in her mouth she allowed her eyes the time to wander.
Carl was supported by a throne of pillows, his lower body covered by thick blankets. His eyes held a bright vacancy, she had come to in her own gaze from time to time. Rick was sitting at his son's side, eating and talking in a low tone. Michonne sat in the corner of the room feeding a babbling Judith on her knee. Before she had come here, she was sure she would never see a baby again well, not a baby alive at least. But here was Judith, a bright and happy baby girl, a reminder of everything they fought for and the promise of what could happen behind these walls.
"You're eating remember?" Daryl's voice close in her ear, she flinched slightly but nodded. Glancing up at him, she took another spoonful and ate it, he held her gaze for a few moments. She discerned what he was asking before he even said anything, she held up two fingers. She felt fine; the everyday low level anxiety was there, but it always was. Being in a room with all these people made it seem louder, but she needed to do this for her own sake.
The bowl in her hands was empty before she even realized it. Daryl was taking if from her, placing it on the little table beside Carl's bed. Something about that didn't seem to sit right with her, to leave that dirty bowl in someone else's space. Sometimes her mind went to places, and she was not sure how it got there, but right now it felt that her dirty bowl was invading his space.
Standing, she tucked her hair behind her ear and drifted around the room, collecting the dirty dishes. The image of her coming out of the bathroom after a panic attack to a clean room burned in her brain, seeing the organization in the room had helped calm the chaos raging inside her. She would do the same for him. When she reached around Rick to take his bowl he stopped talking and their eyes locked, he only nodded.
Preserving it as a good sign she left the room, put everything in the sink and washed it.
"Why are you doing that?" Michonne asked as she entered the kitchen, Judith bouncing in her arms smiling away. Pandora looked up only for a quick moment before she was glancing back down, her hair coming out from behind her ears to hide her eyes.
"Sometimes when things are organized, it helps me stay calm. I wanted to do the same for Carl." She wasn't sure any of that made sense to anyone but her. Watching the suds rinse off the bowl in her hand she almost forgot that there was another person in the room. When she looked up, Michonne was still there, holding the now silent Judith in her arms.
"Thank you." Michonne said before she turned away taking Judith outside.
Pandora titled her head to the side slightly to watch her go. Thank you, hm. It was a phrase she hadn't heard in a long time. The cool feeling on her fingers reminded her that the water was still on. Reaching out turning the tap off, but nothing happened. Still she stood, waiting, waiting for what? She didn't even know. Head turned to the side, her eyes drifted to the pile of now clean dishes resting on the towel beside the sink. She should put them away she thought if she had any idea where everything went.
"Pandora?" She turned, eyes focusing again.
"Sorry," She whispered. "I was cleaning the dishes."
Daryl had an odd expression on his face she couldn't quite place in a category of emotions. He was standing in front of her, arms crossed over his chest peering at her.
"Are we leaving?" We, she couldn't help but notice she was not sure where he ended and she began.
"Do you want to leave?" He asked, raising his eyebrow at her.
For a moment she was not sure what to say, did she want to leave? What did she want? Was she even in a place to decide what she really wanted? The questions overwhelmed her but the feeling of Daryl's hand on her arm forced her to stop.
"I want to stay." She answered. Eyes pulling up to meet his gaze again, she wanted to stay to feel like she was a part of something and not just someone passes through
He nodded, taking her elbow and leading her back into the room. She settled back into the chair she had left a few moments ago. Daryl stood behind her, leaning on the back of the chair.
Rick eyes them, holding her gaze for a few long heart beats before turning his eyes on Daryl.
"We should go out soon, look for supplies and for people."
Under her the chair groaned as Daryl shifts his weight. She didn't turn to look at him, eyes fixed on Carl. The boy in the bed blinked, he still had the same faraway stare she had seen in her own eyes too many times in the mirror. She reached for him laying her hand on top of his own. Turning he looked at her, in his gaze he seemed more present. She tried to smile, tried to speak the message that whatever was going on inside his head was all right.
Maybe some of her silent words reached him because he smiled at her and tightened his grip around her fingers. Then he started to blink eyes looking heavy, his head slip to the side. Standing, she cupped the side of his head his touch light as she laid him down against the pillows. He opened his eyes again slowly the moment she lay his head down, but she only pressed her fingers to her lips, the other hand pulling the blankets over him.
Around her, she hadn't noticed that both Rick and Daryl were studying her. A hot flush swept up her neck and cheeks and she opened her mouth in an attempt to form words but in that moment her ability to speak seemed to escape her. Rick raised his hand to silence her, putting an end to her struggle.
"It's ok, thank you." Rick was whispering now, fearing to wake his sleeping son.
There was something in the expression on his face, something almost broken. Pandora had to turn away, unable to process that with the man she knew Rick was. Behind her, she felt Daryl shift. Head backward to look at him, their eyes locked and he nodded.
She stepped out of the room with Daryl at her heels. Once in the small hallway, she closed the door softly behind her. Shifting to the side, she found Daryl standing against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. She was turning now, standing at the bottom of the stairs.
"Before everything…" She waved her hand in the air letting the rest of the sentence fall away. "I was packing my stuff to move into your new place. If you still want me to. If not, that's fine too. I could ask someone else" she was babbling, words slipping out of her mouth quicker than she could catch them.
When she looked up at him, the edge of his mouth turned up in a slight smile. That was a smile, she was almost sure of it, but it was hard to tell with him. The master of the scowl.
"Com'on then before tower duty." He was moving up the steps ahead of her now, not turning to see if she was coming.
She was coming; it was her idea after all. The moment she was in the room and she saw him place her neatly folded pile of clothes into laundry baskets doubt curled inside of her stomach. This room had been the only place she had felt safe for a long time.
Her fingers curled against the door handle as she closed it behind her. The steady thrum of panic she usually felt rose like a wave to greet her.
'It's not like your leaving the walls.' She told herself. Nodding to herself, she counted each breath as she moved around the room to help Daryl with her things.
"Pandora?" The sound of her of name and the concern on the edge of Daryl's voice made her jump, the bottle of lotion she was holding went tumbling to the floor.
When she turned, Daryl was looking at her with the bottle already in his hand. Sometimes that happened, sometimes her body moved too slow and the surrounding time moved too quick, she missed things.
"You don't have to do this." Daryl muttered caution in her tone. There he was again, all-knowing, somehow always knowing what was going on in her head.
"No," She said with a sharp shake of her head, "I want to do this. I'm tired of feeling like a patient or a visitor, I want—" The words died on her lips because she wasn't really sure what she wanted or didn't know how to explain it to him. Part of her was terrified of leaving this room yet part of her was ready. She needed to return to some kind of normal.
"Ya want a place, a place that is just yours."
Pandora nodded, feeling the tears pooling in her vision. What was she even crying about? Angry with herself, she rubbed at her eyes, "Come on, I want to see my room."
Daryl chuckled at that, putting adding the lotion to all her other bathroom stuff. "I ain't done shit to the place. Just moved in"
Throwing the last of her clothes from the dresser into the basket before lifting it she said "Well then Mr. Dixon, I guess we are going to have to decorate."