TW: Please be aware that I won't be detailing them prior to chapters, to prevent any spoilers, but you can always PM me to ask what a story will contain.
"I hate it here, so I will go to secret gardens in my mind
People need a key to get to, the only key is mine
I read about it in a book when I was a precocious child
No mid-sized city hopes and small town fears
I'm there most of the year, 'cause I hate it here."
– I Hate It Here, T.S.
Mila
The building of the CDC came into view, a shiny "Center for Disease Control" sign acting as a beacon in the air amidst the destruction that lay in the street. Daryl pulled the truck off to the side, as everyone else did the same, and we filtered out to stretch our legs and explore. The sun was just starting to descend, indicating that darkness would fall soon, and we didn't have a lot of time to navigate to safety before it did. Dead walkers piled in the street, on top of makeshift sandbag barriers, and the smell was just god awful. Rotting meat that had sat in the sun for weeks with just a hint of sewer.
"Everyone, come on. Stay quiet, let's go," Shane commanded in a whisper, following behind Rick who was leading the group.
"Keep moving," Rick held his rifle up high and ready to go. I found a place between the kids and stumbled a bit over a body on the ground, but felt strong hands catch me and push me forward. I turned around and gave Daryl a thankful nod, which he returned, before looking around for the next threat. We approached a very vacant looking exterior, which made a pulsating ball of anxiety drop into my stomach, and Shane aggressively knocked on the industrial steel door that was rolled down over the windows.
"There's nobody here!" Shane yelled. Apparently, we weren't trying to avoid attracting walkers anymore.
"Then why are the shutters down?" Rick asked, not ready to admit defeat. I was getting nervous, looking around and shifting my weight, but he did have a point. However, all it proved is that someone was once alive inside. It didn't mean they still were.
"Walkers!" Daryl yelled, turning to fire a bolt into one's head– clean and true, without a moment of hesitation. "You led us into a graveyard!" Another bolt went flying, taking down the next one.
"He made a call!" Shane argued, although his tone indicated he seemed to agree with Daryl.
"It was the wrong damn call!" Daryl replied angrily. His eyes flicked over to me before jumping back to Rick. I chewed my lip, trying to think of potential solutions. I used to be good in a crisis. There used to be answers to problems that didn't lead to death. Sophia cried next to me, and I bent down to her level to give her a hug.
"Hey, it's okay. I know it's scary right now, but we're going to figure it out like we always do. I've got you, okay?" She nodded at me through watery eyes and I racked my brain to find an alternate path so it wasn't a lie.
"Just shut up! You hear me, shut up!" Shane pushed Daryl in the chest and I clenched my jaw so hard that I thought my molars might turn to dust. I know I hardly knew these people, but Shane rubbed me the wrong way. Arrogant, impulsive, and seemed to be more ego than morals. People were starting to panic and I took a shaky breath to control my face, giving Sophia's hand a squeeze before standing back up.
"We can't be in the city after dark," Lori sounded as stressed as I felt, "We need answers, NOW."
Carol grabbed Sophia's hand and followed the group as they started heading back to the cars. I glanced around, taking an inventory to ensure we had everyone before leaving, unintentionally taking my usual position in the back of the group.
"The camera!" Rick ran up to squint at a small security camera as he began pleading to it. "Please, we have women and children and nowhere else to go! We're almost out of gas," he was losing it, voice rising and bordering on hysterical, "If you don't let us in, you're killing us! Please!"
My eyes watered, not for me or even us but in empathy for the pain I heard in his voice and the weight I knew he placed on himself to keep us safe. He was blaming himself for this failure, but he couldn't have known. Every choice was a gamble and sometimes you just plain lose.
Walkers began to gather in the distance, being drawn closer by all the shouting and banging. I involuntarily gulped, readying myself to protect the kids if I needed to, and pulled the knife Daryl had lent me from my belt. He never asked for it back, so I was holding onto it until he did. I gripped it tightly, my back turned to the door, and took a deep breath to calm the nerves that made my hands shake.
Even though I was ready to die, the idea of actually dying still scared me. No longer existing and fading into infinite darkness? Chill. Gasping for breath and being in agony until that moment? Not so chill anymore. Suddenly, a shrill screech of metal on metal rang out into the open air and made me turn around. Bright white light shone from within the building and we stood in stunned silence. Rick was right.
"Get in!" A disembodied voice yelled. We weren't going to make him ask twice. We barely made it in before the door shut back down, trapping us inside and keeping the walkers out. For the first time in weeks, I heard nothing other than the sounds of our ragged breathing. No groans, birds, or crickets. Silence.
"Hello?" Shane called out, voice echoing over the linoleum floors and projecting up to the ceiling. Click. A shotgun being loaded made us all jump, adrenaline still clearing its way out of our system and putting us all on edge.
"Anybody infected?" An unassuming looking man materialized, seemingly out of nowhere, pointing a shotgun in our direction.
"One of our group was. He didn't make it," Rick took the lead on acting as our speaker, and a wave of gratitude washed over me that he spoke up before Shane could. At least Rick was agreeable and gave off an air of trustworthy authority. Shane just gave off asshole energy.
"Why are you here? What do you want?"
"A chance."
"That's asking an awful lot these days."
I held my breath, hoping Rick could be convincing enough to keep us from losing our only shot at safety. I touched my thumb to each finger on my hand, one by one, and counted– a nervous tic that only reemerged when I felt like I was gonna lose my shit. I could take being thrown out, but make it quick. The anxious tension of what may or may not happen would be what actually kills me.
"I know," Rick agreed.
"You all submit to a blood test. That's the price of admission." That sounds like we were staying. I was too scared to hope. I held my breath, feeling like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room.
"We can do that."
The group collectively exhaled a relieved sigh.
"You got stuff to bring in, you do it now. Once this door closes, it stays closed." We just bought ourselves another 24 hours.
T-Dog, Daryl, Shane, and Rick ran out to collect the rest of our stuff. Not much by any means, but you learn to hoard what you do have when running to the store isn't exactly an option anymore.
"Vi, seal the main entrance. Kill the power up here."
The steel door pulled back down as the lights flickered and dimmed in the lobby. I hitched my backpack higher on my shoulder and took inventory of all the possible exits and escape routes. Just in case.
"Rick Grimes."
"Dr. Edwin Jenner."
Hey, now we had a nurse and a doctor. We just created half a functional medical team. If we found a pharmacist and a radiologist, we could open a hospital. I smiled at my own joke and the mental image of a post-apocalyptic hospital. What are you in for, sir? Ah yes, a zombie bite to the hand. Have a seat and we'll be right with you. Would you like to be euthanized by lethal injection or asphyxiating gas?
We were led to an elevator that felt like it was descending way too fast for my liking. My ears popped and I gripped the railing as my heart raced, begging my body not to send me into a panic attack now. Cool metal under my hand. Someone's spicy deodorant. Unfairly muscular shoulders. Dr. Jenner talking to Carl. Bile in my throat.
"You alright?" Lori asked me, quietly, trying not to draw any attention– which was a little hard, considering we were in a very packed 6x6 box. I laughed a little, or maybe it was more of a gasp, and shook my head.
"Not a fan of tight spaces… or elevators for that matter. I've been stuck in more than should make sense for a lifetime."
It was true. Most people never had an issue or got stuck once– if I counted on both hands, I was starting to run out of fingers. I did ride elevators more than most, an occupational hazard with transporting patients throughout the hospital, but it still seemed to happen to me an excessive amount. Almost like they knew I feared them. Thankfully, no one else seemed to notice our exchange and the elevator doors dinged as they opened. I had to hold myself back from pushing Dale out of the way to run out. We followed Dr. Jenner as he gave us a tour, pointing out various rooms.
I was just starting to feel better when Carol asked, "Are we underground?"
Damn it, Carol. We were all in the same elevator. Don't twist the knife.
"Are you claustrophobic?" Dr. Jenner asked, not even bothering to turn around.
"A little."
I was officially jealous. Let's trade. I'd like to be able to classify whatever the fuck is wrong with me as "a little."
"Try not to think about it," he replied, unhelpfully. What should he have said? Not a clue, but I glared at his back anyway.
Dr. Jenner showed us to some type of working area, filled with cubicles and computers, and introduced us to Vi, officially, before pulling us into what used to be a lecture hall and setting up to draw blood.
"Were you an epidemiologist?" I asked, staring at the tourniquettes and centrifuge on the table. Being around other medical personnel almost felt like riding a bike. Almost. He looked at me in mild surprise.
"I was."
"I don't imagine that epidemiologists draw a lot of blood. Especially on kids," I observed, plucking a glass blood collection tube from the stack and rolling it around in my hands.
"That is a fair assessment, but I'll do my best. May take a few times to get it but again, that's the price of staying in here."
I nodded, considering how to phrase my next sentence before delivering it.
"I can help you. I have experience, and it should only take once."
"Were you a phlebotomist?"
"A nurse. Saw a lot of kids. Did a lot of IVs, so this will be a breeze… or at least I hope it will. It's been a while."
Dr. Jenner pointed to his stack of supplies and shrugged.
"By all means, I'll take the help. We need at least 3 mLs each." Muscle memory kicked in and I mindlessly loaded up my hands with needles, transfer devices, collection tubes, alcohol wipes, tourniquettes, and bandaids. I walked over to where Carl and Sophia were sitting, both looking nervous.
"Hi guys," They gave me weak smiles. Even when the dead walk the earth, kids still hate shots. "I'm going to make this as fast as humanly possible so we can all relax, okay? Carl, can you go first and show Sophia how brave you can be?"
Carl's face became determined and he nodded seriously before putting his arm out in front of him. I tied the tourniquet a few inches above his elbow and lightly ran my index finger over his inner arm. Bouncing a few times on the spot I was looking for to confirm I found a good vein, I cleansed his skin with alcohol.
"Do you want to look away or watch?" I asked him. Kids do better when they have choices. We all like to feel in control.
"I think I'll look away, if that's okay."
"Totally okay. One more question– count down or just do it?"
"Just do it," he replied while turning his head to look anywhere else. I uncapped the needle and held his limb steady.
"Aye, aye captain," I pierced his skin, blood flashing immediately in the tube, and smiled to myself, "Almost done, buddy. You're doing great." I filled the tube and then popped the tourniquet, before withdrawing the needle and giving him a bandaid. "All done!" I took a sharpie that was laying on a table next to me and put a smiley face on his bandaid. Carl smiled at me and stood up.
"That was barely anything!"
"Glad to hear it. Alright Sophia, your turn."
Sophia already looked a little less apprehensive after watching Carl and gave me her arm. She decided that she also didn't want to look but she did want a countdown. When she was done, I drew a flower on her bandaid and she ran off to show Carol. I silently thanked my lucky stars that I had lived the life I did, so that I could make this even a tiny bit easier on them.
"Next victim!" I called out, somewhat jokingly.
—-
Daryl
I quietly watched the room, as I usually did– both because there was nothing to do and because I was in unfamiliar territory. Old habits die hard. My eyes kept getting drawn over to the far corner though, where Mila was making Carl and Sophia laugh, even with a needle in her hand. I've never seen a kid look so calm before getting stabbed by a sharp object, although I didn't have much experience being around kids– unless you count when I was a kid myself.
"Next victim!" she called out, looking around the room for someone who hadn't had their blood drawn yet. Her gaze met mine and my feet brought me over to her before I could second guess the decision. "You're not scared of needles, are you, Dixon?"
My body reacted to her nickname for me, like the traitor it was, and I felt an unusual flip in my chest. I pretended it was heartburn.
"Nah. Ain't scared of much. Needles seem low on the list compared to what else we got goin' on."
This was true, but it made me think about what I was scared of and what it meant that I'd felt more fear in the last two days than I had in the last five years– barring the initial night of the outbreak. At least that felt manageable. Whatever was happening to me lately felt like free falling. Mila didn't seem to pick up on my internal struggle and smiled at me brightly.
"Then we have nothing to worry about. If you're a good boy, I'll even give you a lollipop after."
Now I was blushing and I didn't know why. It almost looked like she was too, but I kept my eyes firmly on the floor so I couldn't wager a guess either way. Her soft hand ran down my arm, making me shiver, before it found the spot she was looking for. I suddenly wished it was the doc feeling me up instead– at least that would have felt more clinical. Less important. I felt the prick of the needle and she squeezed my hand with her free one, mistaking my downward gaze for anxiety. "Almost done."
"You're real good with the kids."
She popped the tourniquet and held pressure on my skin. A wistful smile returned to her face, but she didn't look at me.
"Thanks. Before the end of the world, I stepped back from taking care of patients. I needed a break and was going through… some stuff. Being able to hang out with kids is what I missed the most– other than feeling like I had a purpose, anyway. Sorry, I don't know why I'm telling you this," she laughed, embarrassed, and started cleaning up. I let her words sink in, wondering why I wanted to hear more.
"Your purpose was always there. Even if ya couldn't see it."
Was that a dumb thing to say? I hoped not. Mila's hands stilled before meeting my eyes appreciatively.
"Thanks, Daryl."
We shared a small, shy smile with each other before Dr. Jenner's voice cut through our moment.
"Alright, you're all done. No surprises in the samples."
Next to Jenner, Andrea pales and sways, and Mila is there before anyone can even react. She puts an arm around Andrea's shoulders to steady her, using her free arm to pull her backpack off her shoulder.
"Are you okay?" Jacqui asks from the other side of Andrea. She looks at Jenner directly, "She hasn't eaten in days– none of us have." Guilt and shame weighs on me like an anchor, cold and heavy. I usually find us whatever I can hunt, but the surprise ambush at camp and driving for hours meant I didn't have the opportunity to go out into the brush and track. Something inside of me screamed that I should've tried harder, should've found a way.
Mila straightens up from where she was bent over her pack, a clear wrapper crinkling in her hand as she gives a sheepish smile.
"It's not much, but the dried fruit should help get your blood sugar back up quickly. It's a little old though, sorry."
I catch her eye thinking another fucking sorry and she blushes before dropping her eyes down, handing the bag over to Andrea who gratefully scoops a handful into her mouth.
"Thanks. I'm okay, just got dizzy for a second."
Jacqui gives Jenner the evil eye, obviously questioning his priorities around taking our blood before making sure we don't drop dead, but says nothing. Jenner doesn't see it and wordlessly leads us out into the hall, rows of closed doors on each side.
"These will be your rooms. Divide them amongst yourselves. There may not be enough beds for everyone, but there are couches in some of the common rooms. There are also showers, but go easy on the hot water and please don't plug in anything that draws power."
"Hot water?" Glenn asked with a giant, surprised grin on his face.
"That's what the man said!" T-Dog confirms with a clap on Glenn's shoulders.
"Ah, music to my ears," Mila makes something between a moan and a groan, a sound that shouldn't be dirty but it is, and I feel my ears get hot. As everyone makes plans on who sleeps where, I spend my mental energy on trying not to imagine her under the hot steam and feeling like a deviant the entire time.
—-
Mila
I ran a towel through my dripping hair, smiling to myself and feeling better than I had in weeks, after stepping out of the hottest shower known to man. I know Dr. Jenner said to go easy, but I couldn't help myself. I swear I could've cried from the pleasure of standing under running water and having real shampoo to use. Did I used to smell this good all the time before? I really took that for granted. I even found some clean sweatpants and a hoodie, all tucked away and folded in a forgotten dresser. Whatever tension I'd been carrying around melted away and left me feeling almost euphoric. I ran into Carol in the hallway, looking similar to how I felt, and gave her an easy smile.
"I think I want to live here now," I joked, "if Jenner will let me."
"I know, right? I almost forgot what being clean felt like," her eyes sparkled in amusement and she looked happy, genuinely, probably for the first time since I met her. "Are you sure about taking the couch in the common room? Sophia and I really don't mind, we could fit-"
"No, no, I could never have that. You two deserve a room with a door. You already let me use your shower, for which I will be forever indebted to you," I flourished with my hand to really make my point, "but I draw the line at having you guys on the couch. I'm just happy to be off the ground and not in the back of a truck."
It was true. A secure facility, no walkers, hot water, and a couch? I already got way more than I ever expected when we left today.
Carol looked like she wanted to say more but begrudgingly nodded as we followed the sounds of laughter and chatter to another room. Our group was settled around huddled cafeteria tables and almost looked somewhat normal. Like we were all on one big family vacation together to the CDC's underground bunker.
"Is that wine?" I exclaimed, unable to keep my voice from rising several pitches. This day just got better and better. I took an open seat, in between Glenn and Daryl, as Andrea laughed at me and confirmed what I already knew– my eyes looked like a kid's on Christmas morning. I snagged an empty wine glass on the table and spotted a half full bottle on the other side of Daryl. Leaning into him and only concentrating on my mission of Operation Pinot, I put a hand on his thigh under the table and said, "Can you pass me some of that, please?"
He stiffened at my contact, which made me realize where my hand was, and I immediately pulled it back like it had been burned by a hot stovetop. Embarrassment made me wish the ground would swallow me whole as I muttered an apology, but Daryl dutifully filled my glass. I closed my eyes and took a sip, taking a second to imagine myself out on a restaurant patio. The hum of other tables nearby. Fairy lights glowing overhead. Garlic bread. When I opened my eyes, Daryl was already looking at me, causing me to break into a wide smile.
"That is some good shit."
The table laughed in agreement. I'm pretty sure that Jenner could have pulled out some boxed Franzia, and I would've thought it tasted like the best drink of my life.
"You know, in Italy, children have a little bit of wine with dinner. And in France," Dale remarked pointedly, pouring another glass of wine for Lori. I made a silly face at Carl who looked back at me with wide eyes.
"Well, when Carl is in Italy or France, he can have some then," Lori said, resolute but goodnaturedly, while sipping on her fresh pour.
"What's it gonna hurt? Come on," Rick coaxed, seemingly uninhibited from his own time sampling the product. Now, I threw Carl a surprised look– Captain America breaking the law? Granted, laws didn't really exist anymore but Rick still acted like he never got the memo. "Come on."
Not one to be out-cooled, Lori gave a wry smile and shrug before allowing Dale to place a small amount in front of Carl.
"Hey!" T-Dog said, laughing and raising his cup in a toast to the air.
I looked around and took it in– it felt nice to indulge in happy energy after the awful day we'd had. Everyone was smiling and looked visibly lighter than they had when we arrived. My head started to clear as the alcohol started to metabolize and I gratefully ran into the comforting haze. Turning to slyly look at Daryl as I poured myself more, I internally sighed at how good he looked with damp, clean hair and the dirt washed off of him. He smelled delicious too, which just seemed plain unfair.
"Blegh! Ew!" Carl sputtered after his sip, shaking his head vigorously as if he were an etch-a-sketch and that would remove the aftertaste.
"Well, just stick to soda pop there, bud," Shane interjected.
"Not you, Glenn!" Daryl said with a point as he poured himself another helping.
"What?" Glenn said with a big smile, confused.
"Keep drinking, little man. I wanna see how red your face can get."
This was the loosest I'd ever seen Daryl, and Glenn laughed amiably in reply with an obedient sip. I arched a brow with a smile– what had Daryl said yesterday? "I think it's a bad plan and I don't even like you that much." Sure you don't, Daryl. My heart warmed as I watched him laugh, glad he was getting a reprieve from worrying about Merle. My own buoyant mood was turned down just a notch, as I thought of how much Aly would've enjoyed all this. I wished I could shake the etch-a-sketch in my heart, just for a night, and put down some of this grief.
"It seems to me we haven't thanked our host properly," Rick stood to make his toast and extended his glass to Jenner.
"He is more than just our host," added T-dog, gratefully. A chorus broke out from the table.
"Here here!" "Here's to you, doc!" "Boo-yah!" "Thank you!"
I eyed Jenner, who looked more stressed than I'd expect for a man who was sitting around having dinner with probably the first people he'd come in contact with for a while. Something unsettling swirled in my stomach, like he knew something we didn't.
"So, when are you gonna tell us what the hell happened here, doc?" Shane spoke up and my body tensed, sensing he was in a mood. "All the other doctors that were supposed to be figuring out what happened, where are they?"
Was he already drunk?
The spirit of the table visibly shifted. Glenn and I caught each other's resentful expression, witnessing Shane ruin what should've been an easy night due to his lack of emotional regulation. When Shane had a problem, he made it everyone's problem. I wasn't totally sure what his problem was in this moment– maybe that Rick was right or that he and Lori seemed to be giving each other a weird cold shoulder, but I'm sure he'd make it known soon.
"We're celebrating, Shane. No need to do this now," Rick said what we were all thinking. Couldn't I have finished my glass first?
"Whoa, wait a second– this is why we're here, right? This was your move, supposed to find all the answers." Ah, there it is. It was a dick measuring contest with Rick and he lost. "Instead, we found him. Found one man. Why?"
I rolled my eyes, irritated, and scraped at the wood grain of the table with my fingernail.
"Well, when things got bad, a lot of people just left– went off to be with their families. And when things got worse, when the military cordon got overrun, the rest bolted."
It wasn't surprising. The average person thinks that certain professions– firefighters, military, hospital workers, even teachers– should be willing to put the greater good above their own life or the lives of their loved ones. As noble as that may seem, that's just not how it works. In a crisis, it very quickly becomes every man for himself. I didn't blame them for leaving, it likely wouldn't have changed the outcome anyway. Wherever you were in the world, there was devastation. May as well spend the time you got left with the people you care about.
"Every last one?" Shane challenged. I huffed and crossed my arms. He could be a real ass and he was taking it out on the one person who did stay.
"No. Many couldn't face walking out the door. They… opted out." Jenner trailed off, a stony look on his face. Not backing down from Shane's challenge. Good, I thought. Let Shane sit in that. "There was a rash of suicides. That was a bad time."
"You didn't leave," Andrea pointed out. "Why?"
"I just kept working. Hoping to do some good."
Silence fell over the table, no one knowing what to say. There once was hope that some team of scientists somewhere was working on a cure and would eventually return to society to normal. Now, we were looking at the one man who was still trying and from his general glum attitude, failing.
"Dude, you are such a buzzkill, man," Glenn chastised Shane with a disappointed look. I telepathically sent Glenn a thank you for saying what I couldn't as we ate the rest of our dinner in tense silence.
—-
Daryl
Shortly after Shane's awkward exchange with Jenner, everyone went their separate ways– either to explore or hide in their rooms. I didn't really care either way, happy to get drunk off the seemingly unending stash of wine and hopefully blackout into oblivion. I laid on the bed in my room, intermittently sitting up on my elbows to take gulps straight from the bottle, and let the tingly, heaviness settle over my limbs. If I drank enough, maybe I could pretend that this was a normal night after getting wasted with Merle at some local shithole dive. Maybe even jerk off and pretend like it was anyone's hand but my own.
I sighed and sat up. Despite the relief from being in a secured building that walkers couldn't get into, without learning how to use an elevator anyway, I found myself antsy and needing to walk. Could be a habit my body won't let go of from how we've spent the past two months or that being trapped somewhere, even if it was safe, didn't sit right with me. I strolled over to my duffelbag of scrap clothing and pulled out a flannel, shrugging it on before slipping out of the room.
I didn't know where I was going, as I was only half paying attention when Jenner gave the tour. Something about a common room, somewhere there were video games for the kids, I think I saw some sort of library. It's not exactly like I was going to get lost, so I ambled without purpose, the neck of my green, glass bottle dangling from my fingers. These pricks had the perfect set up to survive and couldn't even be bothered to stay. You would've had to drag me out of here.
I wandered over to a bookshelf, fingers skimming the spines of books with titles that didn't much make sense to me. It looked like they were trying to keep any that could be remotely helpful in case the entire internet went out and all information was lost. Wasn't the knowledge lost anyway if no one was around to read, or understand, it? I kept walking, stumbling as my foot caught on a furniture leg.
"Ah, shit!"
I recovered, but not before somewhat faceplanting into the side of a wall. Turns out you lose your tolerance to alcohol quicker than you think. I shrugged and brought it back up to my lips, thinking back to dinner and feeling a warm hand on my thigh, knowing I'd use the memory of that touch for inspiration later.
I entered a room which looked like it would've been a spare office. Desk, chair, couch. The room was connected to another, the door cracked but not enough for me to see into. I threw myself down on the couch and sighed, letting myself fully relax. As much as I ever could, anyway. My ears perked up as I heard voices, speaking low, walking through the hallway where I just came from. After a few moments, they got closer and their words became clearer, although they still couldn't see me due to the couch back obstructing their view from the door.
"Mila, I just really think you should take the bed. You look exhausted."
"Carol, we're all exhausted. You have a kid and… you had Ed around all the time. I never saw you resting or relaxed, like you are here. I know you could use the sleep and the privacy. I don't mind finding a couch."
I frowned. Mila didn't get a bed but I did? How did I miss that? As they spoke, their voices moved from the hallway to the adjoining room. I could hear them even more clearly now.
"Oh wow, look– a piano. I always wanted Sophia to learn but Ed…" Carol trailed off. "Can you play at all?"
"It's been a while. I haven't even seen one since shit hit the fan."
"Oh, you have to play it. Please? This is the only time we'll probably ever see one and not have to worry about how much noise it makes."
I heard the creak of someone sitting on the bench and a few tentative fingers hitting a random scale of notes, as if warming up to the instrument.
"You know, Ed wasn't always like that," Carol's voice was small and unsure. I knew I should leave them to their conversation, as this wasn't meant for me, but my body felt heavy and unable to move. I was officially drunk, my limbs feeling like they were made of sand.
"I'm sure he wasn't. People show you what they want you to see until they're ready to pull off that mask," Mila's voice was quiet, but understanding. Her fingers still gliding on the keys and playing a song without a melody, almost like a kid experimenting. "It's not your fault."
"It sure feels like it. I could've left… could've taken Sophia and just ran," Carol was getting choked up and my blood started to boil.
I'd seen the way Ed treated them, like they were subordinate pets he owned instead of his family, but Merle convinced me to stay out of it. A family matter, he had said. The group looked at us disdainfully enough with me trying to keep Merle out of trouble, I didn't feel like I had the luxury of creating any other issues– even if they felt justified. I settled for sending Ed dirty looks that hopefully conveyed I'd flatten him in a second if I ever witnessed him raising a hand to them. I would've too, even if it had gotten us exiled.
"It's not that easy," Mila's voice was sad and had a far off quality that made me think she had the same glazed look in her eye she'd been wearing this morning. "They get in your head. Mess with your thoughts. Make you think it's your fault because if you were just different, then they would be too. But they wouldn't be."
Carol was quiet for a minute before responding.
"Sounds like you speak from experience."
Mila didn't answer, just continued playing a note here and there. Finally, the silence was broken again.
"I used to write songs, you know, before. Nothing amazing and I never played them for anybody, but they helped channel all of the shit that felt like it had nowhere to go in my brain." I could hear her breath hitch as she hesitated and imagined the shy aversion of her eyes. "Could I… play one for you? You can totally say no."
"I'd love that," Carol breathed, "I miss music so much."
This felt extra personal now. I should go, walk back down the hallway that I came from. But if I did that, then I might draw even more attention to myself and they'd realize I'd been sitting here, silently, the whole time. Why couldn't I make myself get up and go?
It took a moment, but Mila's random notes transitioned to something with a melody, slow and purposeful. It took me by surprise when I heard her start to sing, sweet and soft. Her voice perfectly fit her.
"I sit and watch you reading with your head low
I wake and watch you breathing with your eyes closed
I sit and watch you, I notice everything you do or don't do
You're so much older and wiser and I
I wait by the door like I'm just a kid
Use my best colors for your portrait
Lay the table with the fancy shit
And watch you tolerate it
If it's all in my head tell me now
Tell me I've got it wrong somehow
I know my love should be celebrated
But you tolerate it"
I officially felt like a piece of shit, snooping on a moment that wasn't meant for me. This was raw honesty, in a way I've never fathomed being. All insecurities on display, stripped completely bare– it was almost difficult to listen to. Still, I couldn't stop from wondering about the lyrics. Who was she talking about? Does she have some shitty boyfriend somewhere, waiting for her or something? The thought made my heart sink, so I took another gulp of lukewarm wine.
"Break free and leave us in ruins
Took this dagger in me and removed it
Gain the weight of you then lose it
Believe me, I could do it
If it's all in my head tell me now
Tell me I've got it wrong somehow
I know my love should be celebrated
But you tolerate it"
The piano chords slowed and finally stalled. I heard Carol gasp before I heard movement– knowing Carol, she was probably wrapping Mila in a hug. Something she had tried to do to me multiple times before, but all had been successfully dodged so far. I didn't know what to do with any of that. It'd have been more comfortable and familiar if she'd hit me instead.
"That was beautiful," Carol cleared the lump in her throat before continuing, "The ability to capture a feeling in a story like that… you have a real gift."
Mila's tinkling laugh made me feel drunker than I already was, making my spine tingle and stomach lurch.
"Thank you. That's really kind of you. You deserve someone who doesn't just tolerate you, Carol."
I heard another sniffle, but wasn't sure from who.
"So do you, Mila. I should probably get back so Sophia doesn't worry about where I am, but you should stay and keep playing. Maybe write a song about our current predicament?" She joked, and Mila laughed in reply.
"Somehow, I don't think 'Trapped Underground at the CDC During the Apocalypse' has the same ring to it."
I heard Carol's footfalls pass me and then get further away until she was gone. Random piano notes rang out again and I found myself comforted by them. I was never really one for music, preferring to be outside in nature, but I liked listening to Mila. A low bass note played before descending down the octave, unsure, as if she was still figuring out where it was going. I sat up straight and decided this was probably my best chance to sneak out and leave before she knew I was there, but then she started singing again and I was frozen.
"Gray November, I've been down since July
Motion capture, put me in a bad light
I replay my footsteps on each stepping stone
Trying to find the one where I went wrong
Writing letters, addressed to the fire
And I was catching my breath
Staring out an open window, catching my death
And I couldn't be sure, I had a feeling so peculiar
That this pain would be for evermore…"
Her voice sounded small and lost in a way it hadn't when she'd been playing for Carol. It tugged at my chest, crumbling around the edges and making the center feel cavernous and empty. It felt like there should be something I could do to take some of the pain away but I was at a loss, especially since I didn't even know what I was supposed to be trying to fix. It made me think back to when Jenner had said some of his friends had "opted out," and how worried I was that it reminded me of what Mila had said earlier that morning. I was so deep in thought that I didn't notice the playing had stopped.
"Enjoy the show?" Her voice held a tease, without a hint of contempt to find me sitting there. I turned around to look over the couch back and face her, mentally cursing as I did. Her sweatpants hung low on her hips and her sweatshirt was too big, causing it to expose a bare shoulder. She looked goddamn cute and cuddly. Mercifully, she didn't seem to know what she was doing to me and padded over to sit next to me on the couch. "The least you can do is share some of that."
My body stuttered before thrusting the bottle out to her.
"Sorry, I uh, was here already when you guys came in. My tolerance ain't what it once was, so I was kinda glued to the couch."
It sounded stupid, even to my ears, and I suddenly remembered why I worked so hard to avoid social interaction. Mila brought the bottle to her lips, as my eyes dropped down to stare at them, before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
"It's fine, really. We're all on top of each other down here, no one is ever really alone." My mind circled around her phrasing, painting mental pictures, and I tried to reign it in. "Hey, do you know what's going on with Shane and Lori?" She handed me back the bottle and I took my own sip as I weighed how honest I should be. "I know I've never seen them before, but they're like… anti-orbiting each other with a cold shoulder."
"Can you keep a secret?"
Usually, I'd keep this shit to myself but the alcohol must be loosening my lips. At least, that's what I'm telling myself.
Mila's eyes widened and she leaned toward me conspiratorily, cross-legged, as she nodded. I suddenly noticed our knees were touching and felt all my concentration go to the places where we met. With anyone else, I would've leaned back to get some space but I found myself wanting to inch toward her. Her face was close enough that I could smell the wine on her breath.
"Caught 'em in the woods together. A few weeks back."
"Doing what?" I gave her a pointed look. "Oh! Oh."
I passed her back the bottle which she gratefully accepted, watching her mouth press against the spot where mine just was.
"Guessin' the husband comin' back threw a wrench in some of that."
"Jesus. Yeah, I'd say so. Guess that's why Shane's acting like such a dick."
I chuckled. She always caught me off guard with the shit that would fall out of her mouth. Sweet personality, innocent looking face, but a pretty sailor mouth. I liked that combination.
"Well, some of that is natural talent but it's definitely gotten worse since Rick showed up." She nodded thoughtfully at my statement.
"Thank you for telling me. I do not want to be caught in the middle of that." I gave her a questioning look. Was she into Shane or something? I tried to push down the annoyance I felt at the implication. She must've seen my face and corrected herself quickly. "Not like that. I'll just give them all space. People do crazy things for love and I don't want to be there to discover what Shane's version of that looks like."
Relief flooded my bones and it kinda pissed me off how easy it was for her to send me from one end of the emotional spectrum to the other. Not enough for me to stop wanting to be around her though. I flopped my head back and turned to look at her, finding her already looking at me. Electricity crackled in the air as we stared at each other, but I couldn't tell if it was wishful thinking on my part. As I looked at her face, I noted how tired she looked and the purple rings around her eyes.
"You look tired as shit."
She self-consciously averted her eyes and I mentally punched myself in the face for not saying literally anything else.
"I'm having a hard time sleeping lately."
It wasn't surprising. I'm sure we all were. The constant fear of being caught by a walker while unprepared, sleeping outside in the cold, constantly being hungry. I doubt anyone was sleeping good.
"Nightmares?" I asked. She hesitated.
"Sort of… not really. I don't really dream of anything in the short amounts of time I do manage to sleep, but it's like I can't put my guard down. If I fully relax, I wake up gasping and ready to stab whatever threat is lurking that I can't see." She shook her head and rubbed her eyes with a groan. "It doesn't make sense."
"No," I mumble, still watching her," it does." She removes her hands from her eyes and looks at me with that far-away look again. "Hey, where do you go when you do that?" Her eyes snapped back into focus.
"Do what?"
"That… glazed over, vacant look you get."
I hated it. I hated whatever made her feel like she had to do that. It reminded me of when I was a kid, getting beat on by my dad, and I'd float out of my head until it was over. How'd she know how to do that? What made her have to learn?
She looked at me with a mix of surprise and vulnerability, almost like I called her out on something she didn't think I could see. I took another sip to have something to do as I waited.
"I've done it since I was a kid. Whenever there was anything that felt too big to handle, I'd tell myself to just go anywhere else but here. No thoughts, no feelings, no panic. Just nothingness."
My blood ran cold as I realized my assessment had been entirely accurate. Kids with happy childhoods don't find the need to escape to anywhere else unless they have a reason. I stayed quiet though because if I asked questions, then she might ask them back and I wasn't ready to answer.
"Ever since the night I lost Aly, it feels like the only way to keep the pieces of myself together. Otherwise, I'll just explode or implode or something," Mila stared down at her hands, wringing in her lap.
"What happened?" She slowly looked up at me as if I were leading her to the gallows. She took a deep breath, followed by a pained exhale.
"We were sleeping in the woods. Not a great idea but the group we'd been staying with got… weird," she grimaced.
"Weird, how?"
I already didn't like where this was going. Was this what she'd been alluding to in the truck?
"It started off somewhat normal. Looking out for each other, each of us pulling our weight. But the leader of the group, John, started looking at us different. I caught him trying to sneak into Aly's tent, real late at night, and he'd allude to us doing favors for him in exchange for extra food, provisions, whatever."
My hand gripped the wine bottle tighter, but I held back from reacting so she'd continue. What the fuck is wrong with the men who were left in the world? Wasn't everything hard enough without having to victimize someone looking for help?
"We tried to ignore his advances when they were for extras, but then he started implying that we'd have to do things to get anything at all. We didn't have anywhere else to go but decided to just leave one night. It was my idea to go," Mila bitterly smiled, pulling the bottle out of my hands and taking a deep gulp, as if trying to give herself the strength and composure to go on. She leaned her back to the arm of the couch, facing me, and extended her legs until her toes were tucked under the denim of my thighs. The unexpected contact briefly distracted my brain from her story.
"So there we are in the woods. I was trying to keep watch but it had been days with just us, scavenging for whatever we could find with basically no supplies, and I was so tired. Bone crushingly tired. I fell asleep and we woke up to John and his friends around us. He told me that he'd made a mistake by asking for our compliance and this time, he was just going to take what he wanted."
I sucked in a breath, heart thumping in my chest and ears, as it finally hit me how terrifying it really was to be a woman in these conditions. To never know if the men you found were going to hurt or help you, and how much of a risk she had taken by trusting me in the forest that day. My fingernails were digging so hard into my palms that I thought for sure I'd broken skin.
"I was terrified– mostly for Aly." Of course she was. In a potentially life threatening situation, and she's worried about someone else. "I managed to get John to the thigh with that pocketknife and kick one of his friends in the fire, while telling Aly to run. She did and made it out."
I felt her fingers graze mine as she passed the bottle back, chewing on her bottom lip as the veil took hold of her again.
"And you?" I asked, fury in my voice and dreading the answer. Please say you did too.
Hazel eyes, guarded and back on mine. A sniff and an overly nonchalant shrug that she didn't mean.
"I didn't. But it was worth it. I'd do it again for her. I don't know where she is but if she's out there, I'm gonna find her. And I'm not allowed to give up until I do."
I was officially seeing red. Not at her, but at what she had to go through just to keep her family safe. She sacrificed herself to experience god knows what, and I wasn't going to make her relive it by telling me, but goddamn did I want to know so that I could personally find and torture John and his friends in a much worse way.
"I wish we were still in the area so I could go back and kill them. Slowly," I growled, trying to manually override the tension in my jaw and fists. I met her eyes. "Nothing like that will ever happen to ya again. Not while I'm around." The low timber of my promise sounded foreign to me, but I meant it with my soul and tried to convey that in the way I looked at her. I couldn't decipher what she was thinking, not completely, but she nodded solemnly before putting a hand on my forearm. With her touch, all of the tension I'd been holding deflated like a balloon.
"Thank you, Daryl. Really. But those pricks got what was coming to them. Don't you worry, justice was served. Real slow."
My eyebrows shot up in surprise before my chin dipped in recognition.
"Good."
I looked down at where her hand was still on me, not that I minded, but she quickly withdrew it.
"Anyway, since then my body has decided to go on strike for sleep. Which is fucking annoying because it's not like it can happen again. Aly's gone, John's dead, and I'm here. Tell that to my nervous system though." As if to prove her point, a yawn slipped out as she let herself recline even more fully.
"How long's it been?"
"I don't have a calendar, obviously, but I'm thinking around two weeks. Maybe more."
"Jesus, Mila!" I chided, "You shoulda said something. Maybe there's something I could do to help. You can't be running on no sleep, not with how much we're runnin' and fightin'. You need your wits about ya." I thought back to when I found her and how she'd huddled into a tree like a scared animal. That was probably the only thing she had the energy to do.
"Yeah, like what?" she asked with a smile. "Hypnotize me?" I rolled my eyes in response.
"Ha-ha. No… but maybe I could keep watch for ya? Maybe then your brain will let ya relax?"
Her smile slowly dropped until it was small on her face, but her eyes were filled with that warmth I had come to associate with her. She thought about it, twirling the ends of her hair around her fingers as she did.
"You don't have to do that. I'll be okay!"
I met her gaze with a low level glare.
"Ya won't. And I don't mind. In fact, we'll do it right now. Go to sleep," I commanded with a pointed fold of my arms.
"Okay, well it's not like flipping a switch…" She fucking giggled and it made my stomach flip. I could see that I was wearing her down though and pressed on.
"'m serious. How bad ya gonna feel if somethin' happens because you're too tired?"
It was a low blow, but being that tired was serious. It made you a liability, which meant everyone around you also became a liability. She was always so damn worried about taking care of everyone else that she didn't even consider where she fit into the picture. A guilty look flashed on her face. Got her.
"... okay. If you're sure!" she added nervously. I nodded once, afraid anything I said would be used against me and we'd start back at square one. "But only for a quick nap and then you can go. Any sleep will be better than what I've been getting." She pushed herself down into the couch even further, curling herself up into a ball next to me. Feet barely brushing my thighs, but otherwise with minimal contact. "Just one hour. Then you go on to bed."
I said nothing, just relaxed into the couch myself and stared up at the ceiling, my legs pushed out onto the coffee table in front of me. I felt her looking at me, could feel her gaze move slowly over my face and linger. It made that warm flush settle over me again and this time it didn't feel like the wine.
"Yer starin'. Supposed to be sleepin'. I've got this."
I felt her shake as she laughed lightly. When I looked back at her, she had the cutest blush gracing her cheeks. She almost looked bashful.
"I know you do. I know."
She closed her eyes, mostly in show, but the smile was still on her lips. I could feel my own pull up the corners of my mouth, before turning my head straight again and trying to find an item to zone out on. I jumped a little when I felt a smooth hand slide from my elbow and rest on my forearm again, gentle as a feather.
"This okay?" She looked embarrassed, almost as if she was worried I'd say no. I didn't trust my voice to sound normal so I gave her another nod. "It just helps to remind me someone is here. But seriously, push my hand off if you hate it or when you need to go."
With that, she buried her face into the couch and shut her eyes. It seemed like only minutes later that I could tell by her soft, even breathing that she was finally asleep. I looked down at where her hand was on me, feeling the heat spread through my arm, and smiled. I couldn't fix much, couldn't change the past for her, but I could do this.
Is anyone reading this? :) This chapter included "Tolerate It" and "Evermore" by Taylor Swift.