Chapter Twelve

Taking Chances

Shane continued making the cot into a bed for them both. Delaney knew better than to expect he had any other plan than sleeping right next to her. He took great care to spread out the two sleeping bags. One laid as a sheet atop the course canvas body of the cot itself. The other was their blanket that he'd toss off in the night for being overheated.

She curled her arms around her shoulders as she watched the motions.

"Did you look just like your dad?" She asked.

Shane paused. He let the blanket fall from his hold for a moment. His eyes, however, stayed focused ahead.

"Yeah," he answered. "I did."

"You act just like him, too?" She teased with a smile. "He a town flirt?"

It took a long minute of silence before he answered.

"Nah." He shook his head. It was far too serious for the light toned joke in her voice. "I ain't nothing like him."

Shane's father. Off limits.

She struggled to overcome the strange tension in the tent without being too obvious. "What about your mom?"

"What about her?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I never met her, so…"

The tent fell silent.

"She, uh, had hair like yours. I remember that. But it was big. Curls gone all over the place. I'd sit in there and watch her fuss with it. Felt like hours." Shane finally sighed. His eyes were trained away, not focused on anything. She watched him shift his weight back and forth with his hands grasped at his hips. "The last memories, though, it wasn't curly. It was flat. Limp, dull. She hadn't left the house in so long."

He tilted his head back.

"Oh," fell out her mouth before she could think better of it.

"Yeah. She, uh, left my father right before my eighth birthday. Ran off with some guy, he said. Left us both."

He sniffed as he moved away from the cot. A dark shadow deeper across his face. Not just from the height of his hair, but the depth of his expression. The emotion changed him. Foul sadness, memories he'd long kept locked away resurfaced.

"I'm sorry, Shane."

"She wasn't shit. My father wasn't either. Used to run her down. Scream all the damn time, but. She still left. That's a coward's way," he said.

"You wanted her to stay in the abuse?"

"No," he said suddenly. "I wanted her to stay for me. I couldn't do it on my own. I wasn't strong enough to fend him off. She knew that. And she still left me there, with him."

Laini clenched her arms tighter against herself.

His face fell. A frown struggled deeper when he beheld her tight against herself, uncertain. He'd crossed a line he hadn't meant.

Now there was no way back.

"Listen. I don't like to talk about the past," Shane stated through a deep inhale. "It's dead for a reason."

"Oh, okay," she murmured.

"Rick's family practically adopted me. I was over there every damn day after school, so I didn't have to go home to an empty house. He's like a brother to me," he explained. "My grandma checked in on me when she could. When my father worked long hours or was locked up in county jail for drunk and disorderly. You know." He stepped forward. "I remember the first time I arrested the bastard. He screamed it so loud the whole department heard. 'You're my boy. You can't do this to your old man. I made you'. Everyone got a taste of who my father was. Whether I wanted it or not."

She swallowed the lump at the back of her throat.

Her dad was nothing like that. He was so kind, gentle. Even when they were being naughty kids or taunting their brother endlessly, he never raised his voice to her or her siblings. The man was teased for being too soft on his kids.

But he wasn't.

They all learned what it meant to be strong. Strong in a way that wasn't perceived as strength, but a choice weapon when needed.

Shane approached her suddenly. He squatted in front of her. His hands touched the sides of her face.

"I'm nothing like him, Laini. I ain't gonna let you down. Ever."

"I know."

"That baby in there. It is a blessing, a chance for me to prove what I've been tellin' myself all these years. Prove that I can be better than my old man. Better father, better husband. I'm gonna be the one to do it right." He put his forehead against hers. "Don't turn your back on me. Cause I ain't never turning on you."

"Is that why you get so jealous? You think I think they're better than you? That I'll leave you for someone better."

"I want to be all you need," Shane admitted with a restrained breath. He shyly turned his face toward her once more. "I wasn't always like that. Hell, three years ago, I wouldn't have known what it felt like to be jealous. There wasn't a man in the world I wanted to be more than me. But with you. I don't know." He shook his head. "It's different."

That night, Shane cuddled closer than he ever had. His palms stayed wrapped around her midsection. One possessively claimed the front of her stomach.

No matter how unbearable the heat got, she refused to push him away.

Part of her realized that he sought what she desperately wanted too. A secure place in the world. A reason, a purpose to live. She'd given hope that with her was his place. It remained unclear if it was the right path.

She sank further into his hold. It felt too good to resist.

Morning revitalized the search for Sophia. Shane groaned off the cot to slip into a pair of his old khaki pants – the ones not stained with Otis' blood. She watched him get ready beneath slitted lids. Her body screamed for more sleep. The pains in her chest, and back, and in her whole body, battled her will to rise with the rest of camp.

Soft light brushed through the top of the tent. Only faint lifting to the dim of early morning. The strength of a full sunrise was yet to come.

Shane was fully dressed when she begrudgingly rose from the cot. Pains in her back irritated her raw nerves.

He watched with a growing frown. "What's wrong?"

"My back is killing me," she answered.

His hands scratched the back of his neck. It flustered the mess of dark waves atop his head.

"Want me to fetch somethin'? I'm sure Dale's got something in the RV for it."

"No."

She couldn't risk the chance of taking something that would hurt the baby. There were things that pregnant women couldn't do. What they were, she did not know. So, she'd avoid everything she could until she had no choice on the matter.

He fetched his canteen. She was dressed ready for the day when he came back with it, full. The sound of the water sloshing in the container shot sudden pains through her bladder.

"Shit. I gotta pee."

It was meant to be a statement in lieu of goodbye. Though a shadow followed her up to the front porch into the screen door.

Hershel had given them access to the farmhouse bathroom for their needs.

She was grateful to have an actual toilet rather than the woods. She convinced herself of being infested with bugs after removing her pants to pee in the woods. It had her constantly itching. Little bug legs a mental torture she fought to give strength.

Shane slipped into the bathroom door with her. She paused. "Can I help you?"

He shrugged. "Just wanted to make sure you got here alright."

"Well." Her hands migrated to her hips. "I found it."

"Yup. There it is."

She blushed. "I can't go with you in here."

"Why not?" He smirked. His feet traced up to the sink. He slipped his hands into the gush of water from the faucet. "I'm gonna see lot worse from you before the end. Might as well start now."

Her bladder screamed. It had to go. Now.

She glared as she pulled down the waistband of the yoga pants. They slipped only mid-thigh before she sat down.

Shane gave her a wink through the mirror.

From his pocket, he pulled a pair of toothbrushes. A small tube of toothpaste appeared against the porcelain.

He brushed his teeth like it was nothing. She, under the cover of running water, managed to pee and wipe before his attention turned back to her. Her fingers flushed the toilet as he met her gaze.

"See? Not so bad."

She swallowed. He stepped aside so she could wash her hands before grasping her own toothbrush to clean her teeth. It revitalized a sense of normalcy. They'd watch each other brush their teeth in the morning. Shane, in his sheriff's uniform as he readied for work, or as she did in a rush to get out the door.

They both stepped onto the lawn of the farm with a different purpose. There was the women's section at camp where laundry needed done, dishes cleaned, their supplies tended to. The other was the search for Sophia.

It shocked Laini to watch Carol mess with the dirty clothes while there was a search for her daughter underway.

Shane touched her side. "Stick around the farm. Don't go straying in these trees. We don't know how safe they are."

"What about staying together?"

He pursed his lips. "Safer up here near the house. You've got lots of cover."

She nodded. "Alright."

He started to walk off. Like he was certain she'd be safe.

She was not so convinced. "You stay safe, Shane Walsh. I've got use of you yet."

It was loud enough that those gathered around the map turned. Dale gave a wave. She smiled and waved back. T-Dog chuckled and shook his head.

It gave Shane the entrance to ride in on. Much in his style.

Much in her own style, Delaney walked into camp to the glaring, barely restrained anger of Lori. It yearned for a match to spark her alight in jealousy. She snapped a shirt before she placed it on the clothesline.

"Morning Laini," Carol greeted. Her meek voice was disarming. It changed the air from tense to, tenser with the need to force it otherwise. "How did you sleep?"

"Great," she answered.

Lori grumbled from out of earshot, "Sure your precious back doesn't ache?"

It did little to insight her anger. A shocking clarity went through her mind at its sound. Shane made his choice. Many times, in obvious preference of her. Whatever twisted emotion Lori had for Shane, it could not ignore the signs.

The actions became pathetic. The spite. Bitten back anger over any extent of affection Shane showed her.

Interest in sparking Lori's vengeance did not interest her.

Shane chose her. He took his position as father-to-be seriously.

Laini forced a polite smile. "I'm sorry Shane made a big deal of it. I really didn't want the damn thing. He took it wrong. I'll make him give it back to you. We can make do on the sleeping bags."

"Oh. Laini. That's so sweet," Carol hummed.

It was clear that Lori did not know how to react. Her dumbfounded eyes remained wretched open as she continued to hang bits of damp clothes from the line.

"Here. Give me some of those. It'll go quicker with two."

Lori handed over a handful. A flutter of multiple blinks stroked out the emotion of her face. It was easily done. So little trickled through.

"I thought we might offer to cook dinner for Hershel and his family tonight," Carol said. She was bent over a washboard in a metal tub of water. One of Glenn's shirts was under her spell. It was grinded against the metal with bubbly suds. "They did take us in. I thought it'd be nice to do something nice for them. They've been so kind. Saving Carl, letting us stay as he heals."

Whether she stopped for response, neither of the women knew. Lori kept her gaze even with Laini as they hanged the laundry.

Carol continued, "Maybe you ought to offer, Lori."

Lori's brows rose. Those widened eyes looked at Carol.

"You're Rick's wife. Sorta makes you our unofficial First Lady."

"Oh. I don't know about that," Lori mumbled.

"Hershel looks like a good ole boy. He'll probably respect it from you," Laini agreed. "He addresses Rick as our leader."

"Shane and Rick work together," Lori pointed out.

"Who was the sheriff?" Carol asked, absent-minded, perhaps lost in her own thought. "Was it Shane?"

Who indeed.

The difference between Shane and Rick was that even if Shane disagreed with Rick, he'd do what Rick wanted. Rick refused to do what Shane wanted. If he didn't agree to it, he'd not do it.

The dynamics of their friendship were clear, given the story Shane told her the night before. Rick was Shane's only lifeline. Their friendship was the only companionship he had. Rick never had to make the sacrifice for it.

Shane would never let him.

"No," Lori answered tucking her face away. "No, he wasn't."

Sometime after the search party divided out amongst the trees, Glenn walked by camp. It'd been a while since they talked. She urged him to come sit with her while she unloaded the rest of the supplies from the RV.

"I heard about the walker in the well," Laini said. "Still getting people out of trouble by putting yourself in danger?"

"We needed the water."

She shook her head. "I can't believe you let them talk you into that."

"I wanted to be helpful," Glenn deflected.

He was fidgeting endlessly. His fingers clicked as he shifted and moved around.

"You good? You're acting funny."

"What? Y-yeah. I'm just- I went to town yesterday. With the Hershel's daughter. Maggie, you know." He tossed his thumb over his shoulder.

"Yeah. I heard." She tilted her head. "Find something good there?"

"Yeah. Well, no. It was a pharmacy. But it was a good trip."

She shrugged. "How so?"

"I don't know. Maggie. I think she kinda likes me."

Maggie was the less personable daughter of Hershel. Her face scrunched into a disapproving glare often.

The fluttering edges of Laini's hair tickled across her back. "Oh. Alright. What gave you that idea?" She swept them within her grasp and knotted it at the base of her neck.

He put his hands in his pockets. A height gained in his shoulders as he kicked the gravel underfoot. "No reason."

It was later in the afternoon when Rick and Shane emerged from their grid. Empty handed.

Carol kept her back turned to their appearance. She refused to acknowledge the fruitless searches day after day. Her eyes did not stray in their direction, even as they spoke.

A deep sweat stain coated Shane's chest. His shirt was damp.

She bounded up with her canteen. "It's too hot out here."

He took the canteen with a great need. His lips pulled from the top many long drinks before it finally lowered. "Things good round here?"

"Lori is going to ask if we can cook dinner for Hershel and his family tonight."

His brow quirked in disbelief.

She shrugged. "Carol suggested it. Thought that Lori should ask since Rick's the boss."

"We don't need to be getting any closer to them," Shane disagreed. "It'll just convince everybody to stay."

"It's just dinner," she deflected.

His eyes narrowed in the direction of the farmhouse. "It's more than that. Damn more. If people start to think this place is the answer to their prayers, they'll stop lookin'."

"You said this can't last." She stated. His brow quirked in question. "Soon enough, they'll see it for themselves."

He shook his head. "Soon will be too late. I ain't takin' chances."

His arm looped around her waist. They walked back to camp for a spot of lunch. Shane was too tired from his hike to force a share of his food. Laini ate her portion. He ate his.

He spoke about the afternoon within the surrounding trees. Their search showed no sign of Sophia.

Carol listened with the faintest glisten in her eyes.

It pulled at Delaney's heart like an anchor. Her moods fell to the bottom of the floor whenever she realized what happened outside of her mind. She was so lost in developments with Shane that the horrors of the world escaped notice.

A little girl was out there. A child she'd seen wander around camp and cling to her mother in fear. That girl out there was battling risen dead, stuff that shied the grown men of the group.

Tastes turned rancid in her throat. Her hands quivered against the bowl as she lowered it.

Rick emerged from his elusive talk with Hershel. A sound of huffy exasperation from his lips, bending his knees to a squat, alongside the campfire. The slight downturn in the corner of his mouth grew the longer he sat quiet.

"Somethin' on your mind there, Rick?" Shane asked all drawled.

"Daryl took a horse without askin'." The sheriff was solemn. When not a word was said, he continued, "Hershel is the owner of this land. He didn't take kindly to it. We need to respect his wishes."

Shane tossed his plate at his feet. "We've already given him all our damn guns. What more can he want from us? Owning this land does not mean anything anymore. None of it does. That's the old world, Rick. Not the new."

Rick flicked down a piece of grass from his fingers. "He saved Carl."

That haunted twisted piece of memory blanketed the moment. Shane shook his head but said nothing. He bit his tongue when he knew there was more to it than that.

"Shane did, too," Delaney said firmly. Her hand held onto Shane's forearm. "He did, too."

"Laini, it's fine," Shane murmured.

Rick nudged his friend's shoulder. "No. She's right. You did, too. I just…I want to find a place for us. We all deserve a good place."

"I'm not fighting you on that. This place isn't it," Shane countered. "There's no real defense. No way we can keep out what needs keepin' out."

Shane's word sank in everyone's minds. They did not argue or deny. That was sign enough that they could see what he meant.

She trusted what he said, that the farm was not the perfect place it felt like, yet deep down she did not want to leave it either. A man who knew how to perform surgeries would know how to deliver a baby. It would not matter to any others in the group whether they had medical help. It mattered to her. It should matter to Shane, too.

They needed him to ensure their baby was born right.

"Give Carl a few days to recover," Rick pleaded. "Give me that, at least."

Shane agreed to wait more discussion of direction until Carl was walking around steady for a bit.

It did the group no good to have a kid too sick anyway. They wouldn't make it far without burning out tired.

"Come on, baby." Shane stood.

She followed his motions out to an open field away from the house, away from camp. Shane had stopped off at the RV. The bulky firearm bag was pulled onto the floor before he rifled through it for a gun. It was another handheld pistol.

He walked along the treeline. The silence was deafening. The entire world was quiet. Not in the discontent, tense way. But serene.

Wind moved through the long grass, whistling and whispering. It tickled with its warm fingers. The scent. It was refreshing. The air was untainted by the foulness of industry or settlement. It tasted like subtle sweetness. Her lungs were full. That sweetness leeched from her lungs into her blood.

That sweetness went to her eyes. The love of Shane filtered through all the blackness from the world. His past, her future, the epidemic, the crumbling of bonds. All of it paled in the light of him.

He high-stepped through the foliage, glanced back and then paused. His head tilted in that strange charming way.

The ability to read her was a gift.

"Well get on over here." He waved.

She ran. She did not stop. Her body leapt into his open arms. Their bodies fell back in the dense prickly grasses. The rustling of the stalks was an applause to their kiss, and every motion thereafter.