CHAPTER SIX // 69 & 70 days after the fall.
DINNER PARTIES IN THE APOCALYPSE!

Ahhh, dinner parties in the apocalypse.

Nothing quite like it, right?

It's no secret that I always loved family dinners back before the fall. Even though they usually ended with Carmen being disrespectful towards someone and then getting in trouble and consequently storming upstairs and oh so dramatically slamming her bedroom door shut. Maybe screaming a classic "I hate you!" for us to revel in. Didn't matter. I still loved them.

I would come home from college every Sunday night just to sit around our big, worn out dining table. You. Me. Mom and Dad. Carmen, Gabriela, Nicole. Abuela and Abuelo. Most nights Sebastian too. We'd all hold hands and say grace. Watch hot wax drip down the side of the three taper candles that never seemed to fully melt. Stain the already stained 15 year old table cloth some more. Inhale Dad's ceviche. Talk carelessly over each other. Get our hands slapped away by Abuela if we tried to make our plates before praying. It was messy and perfect and my favorite night of the week.

Still though, as much as I loved those priceless nights, I have to admit that nothing beats dinner parties after the fall.

Perhaps it's because they're so scarce, and so when they happen, no one dares to take a second of them for granted. Maybe it's because it feels so normal, and we feel civil and connected to how we used to be. Maybe it's just because we're (for once) not going hungry, and that alone is reason to celebrate. But personally, I think it's a little bit deeper. I think to break bread with someone is to trust them. I don't think you can sit around, weapons on the floor, guard down and genuinely share a meal with someone you don't trust. Meals like that, where they're around a table or with actual utensils now days, is the closest thing to a family dinner. Meaning, you've got to be family if you're doing it right.

My favorite nights since the fall have come in the form of a meal with the people who we chose to trust and ultimately become a family with.

But at the time of Carol and Lori's big dinner at the farm, there was not a great sense of familial trust among the dinner party goers. Rick and Shane ( vomit. so glad you never had to meet him, ps ) were on the fritz and disagreeing about every. little. fucking thing. Hershel wanted them all gone, and his bad mood was even worse after Daryl had stolen and lost Nelly, his horse. He felt like everything was slipping from his control. Lori was keeping secrets. Sophia was still missing. It was a mess.

Needless to say, that particular apocalyptic dinner party was not very enjoyable, unlike all the ones that followed. Guess no one had enough blood on their hands yet to let go of petty things and realize what an absolute honor it was to sit safely around a table with people they cared about.

And so to escape the unbearable tension, Maggie decided to bring a plate upstairs to Daryl, who had been resting since Andrea shot him (Still hilarious to me, by the way). But she quickly realized (as a part of her master plan to socialize Scarlett. Remember I told she was her unbalanced force?) she volunteered (told) Scarlett to do it instead.

Which is where we left off.

The sound of Scarlett's knuckles tapping on the door was so faint Daryl barely heard it at all, and it took a moment for the woman to receive a gruff "what?" from the other side. She pushed it open just a crack before entering fully, Daryl twisting in bed to better face her; self-consciously pulling his covers up past his bare shoulders.

     The man looked considerably better since the last time she'd seen him. There was no more blood or grime, and Hershel had bandaged his head with several layers of clean, white, fluffy gauze. His face had regained most its color back too.

He stared at her, Scarlett staring blankly back before blinking rapidly and looking down to the plate in her hands. "I brought you dinner."

His cynical eyes shifted briefly from her face and to the nicely plated meal, ignoring the grumbling in his stomach and quirking a suspicious brow at it before looking back up to her. "Ain't vegetarian, is it?"

She couldn't tell if that was a joke or not, and answered solemnly. "No."

He observed with a gaze that was almost dubious as she set it down on the wooden nightstand beside him before speaking. "That doll I came in with... where'd it go?"

Scarlett's lips parted— had she made a mistake gifting something that wasn't hers to gift after all? "Oh, I gave it to Carol. Well, I cleaned it and then I gave it to Carol. I made sure she knew it was from you. That you found it by the creek bed and thought Sophia had dropped it there."

     He was a man of few words— that much she'd figured out. He typically wasn't speaking, but never was he silent. He was always listening, always engaged, always watching. He said nothing in response, but the wheels turning behind his pensive eyes were obvious; absorbing every syllable that left her lips.

     Likewise, Daryl had also deducted that Scarlett was a woman of relatively few words; few actions. The only difference was that there never seemed to be anything happening behind her blue eyes at all. He'd had a gift of reading people since he was a small boy, but she was harder than most to use it on. Her immunity was intriguing and uncanny.

She gestured lightly to him, something about her movements awkward despite their elegance. "How does your head feel?"

     "Like it got shot."

     Scarlett formed her lips into a tight line and nodded submissively— message received. She turned to leave when a question of his own stopped her.

     "That whole Hollywood thing." A beat. "That's for real?"

The woman's brows furrowed, and she ever-so-slightly tilted her head at his question; a question she'd never been asked before. She studied him, again wondering if his words were somehow a joke. Did he not recognize her? Had he never heard her name mentioned in all the millions of places it was so frequently mentioned? Had he never seen her perfect, lifeless, Hollywood face on any screen across the globe?

     After a moment, she deemed his question nothing but sincere. Her lips parted. Never had she met someone who didn't know who she was.

After an uncomfortably long moment of her perplexed gaping, Daryl glared harshly. "What?"

She blinked, suddenly curious of him. But still, her words came out soft and weak. "Nothing, sorry. It's for real."

A knock stole both their eyes away from one another, Carol standing meekly in the doorway. She flickered a polite smile at Scarlett. "Do you mind if I talk to him for a minute?"

"No, of course not." the blonde quickly whispered, nodding and swapping places with the older woman.

     She swiftly began to exit, but her feet slowed beneath her, as if controlled by the continuous echo of Maggie's earlier words in her head. It's worth hearing what you have to say. The woman stared from the doorway, now helplessly swallowed by the idea of someone not knowing her name. It was a tantalizing, fascinating, unheard of idea.

     A thought crossed her mind, a real thought, persevering through all the broken down railways and dust-covered cobwebs that littered the part of her brain where thoughts were supposed to be born.

     Perhaps if Daryl didn't know who she was before the fall, she might have the chance at a clean slate with him. A clean slate with just one person, one pure person unscathed by all the lies Hollywood had fabricated about her since she was eight— the lies they had shoved down the throats of everyone else. They'd missed him somehow, and that made him extraordinarily special.

     She observed him laying there. His icy glare. His brusque, bearish appearance. His spiky brown hair sticking up haphazardly from beneath his dressing. If he was a clean slate, he was a clean slate she likely didn't have a single thing in common with. This dirty, swearing, Georgian rustic hunter and the polite, spineless, pristine belle from the City of Stars.

     But that didn't change the fact that Maggie had told her to make her own way and the fact that this practical stranger presented a unique opportunity. And so, she did something she couldn't remember ever doing before.

"I'm not honored." her proclamation was abrupt, but the words held a sliver of foreign firmness to them. She was looking right at Daryl. "By a Hollywood star. It meant nothing to me."

     She knew Carol had not a clue what she was talking about, but Daryl did, and she could see in his eyes that he knew she was referring to last night by the fire. When she had said that artificial gift was an honor when her heart had been screaming for her to say the opposite. He knew, and that was enough.

     She flickered a final fake smile to Carol before leaving and shutting the door silently behind her.

Scarlett and Maggie had not expected to begin their morning being confronted by a rattled Glenn during the middle of farm chores.

Late last night, walking back to his group's campsite after the suffocatingly tense dinner in the house, he had heard growls coming from the barn. In a mixture of dread and curiosity and worry, he'd ventured inside to explore from the hayloft, unearthing Hershel's building full of beloved walkers in the shaky gleam of his flashlight.

That sure made for a fun conversation.

Glenn stared, unimpressed by the straw basket of ripe peaches Maggie was offering him. "Are you trying to buy my silence with fruit?"

"Course not." she whispered. "...There's also jerky."

"Will you please tell me why your dad has a secret barn full of walkers? It's creepy."

"Shhh!" the brunette hushed him.

"You know that, right?"

"Shhh!"

"Do you think it's creepy?" his worried eyes shifted to Scarlett.

She stood uneasily for a moment, then shrugged. "I've never put that much thought into it, really."

"Just trust me on this, okay?" Maggie pressed.

"But I suck at lying!" he panicked quietly, checking over his shoulder for people. "I can't even play poker! It's too much like lying!"

"You have to keep this to yourself. You have to. Please." the 22 year old turned on her heel, sauntering away after that— not wanting to draw any extra attention to them.

There was a beat. "You're really okay with this?" he asked Scarlett again, in disbelief that anyone could be.

The woman thought of the walker in the well. The one that had kept trying to feast upon their flesh even after it had been split in two. The one that didn't resemble a human anymore.

Maybe she wasn't okay with it either.

She shrugged again. "I'm not sure."

     Shane's whistle shot through the air. "Hey! Peach Man!"

     Scarlett turned, lifting a hand over her eyes to shield them from the sun. Shane was waving Glenn over, standing with Rick and Jimmy and the map they were using to locate Sophia.

     "Oh, God." Glenn let out a nervous groan, swaying on his feet, a deep sense of dread etched into his features. He couldn't keep his jittery hands still, briefly yanking off his baseball cap to run a stressed hand through his hair. "I'm gonna tell them!" he nodded as if it were certain. "I'm gonna tell them about the barn and about Lori and then everyone's gonna—" he froze instantly when he realized his mistake, eyes bulging as they shot back over to Scarlett. He groaned again, even louder this time, screwing his eyes shut. "Oh God, see! I'm already saying stuff I shouldn't! Please don't tell anyone I said that."

     "Rhee!" Shane hollered for him again, less patiently this time.

     The tense boy let out a shaky breath. "Will you come with me? Please? If I'm with someone else who knows what I know, m-maybe I'll keep my mouth shut!"

     "I'll come with you." she assured, cracking a light smile.

     He grabbed the basket of peaches from its place in the grass, the two walking side by side over to the group.

"Hey!" he snapped his fingers, eyes widening as if he'd made a brilliant revelation. "You're good at keeping secrets!"

     "I am?" the woman asked.

     "Yeah! You kept all of them for all the movies you made! Never spoiled! If I tell you about Lori, it'll be easy for you not to tell, right?" The words were flying from his mouth faster than he could even think them through.

"Well, I had a few pre-decided responses my publicist would give me before any interview. That way it would be almost impossible for me to say—"

"Lori's pregnant."

"—anything." Scarlett's voice trailed off, her expression unchanging as she absorbed the new information. There was a long beat. "Oh."

He let out a heavy breath. "Gah! It is such a relief to get that off my chest! No one else knows, not even Rick. It's been killing me. Thanks, Scarlett!" he clapped a hand against her shoulder, as if she'd had any choice in the matter.

     She stammered momentarily, but eventually just sighed. "Anytime."

     After a moment, he smiled boyishly. "Never thought I'd have a secret with a movie star one day." She nodded at him with a strained, nervous chuckle.

     The pair walked in silence the rest of the way over, not uttering a word upon their arrival, avoiding interrupting such important conversation.

     "Creek flows south, past that farmhouse Daryl found. Maybe Sophia dropped the doll there and the current brought it down stream." Rick observed. Scarlett watched as his finger trailed thoughtfully over the map, listening intently to everything he said.

Shane ran a hand over his buzzed head, clearly not convinced the little girl was still alive. "So what, you think she took this road here and then she went north?"

"Yeah." Rick looked to Jimmy, the teenager's chin resting in his palm. "What's up that way?"

     "A housing development. It went in maybe 10 years ago."

     "Take a run up there after gun practice. I'll hold down the fort here, but take back up. After what went down with Daryl, I don't want anyone going out alone. We stay in pairs."

     "I'll take suggestions on a partner." Shane sighed, Glenn extending the large basket of peaches, back to sweating bullets after his short-lived moment of relief.

     "See how they do on the range then take your pick." Rick suggested, plucking a piece of the fruit from the pile after his friend. "Thanks."

     Glenn didn't move a muscle, even after he had done what he came to do. Instead, he stood, whole body rigid, staring at Rick with a strained expression. He turned his head over his shoulder, staring directly at Lori giving him a warning glare, sweat gathering on his forehead.

     "Okay Glenn. We should go, other people want peaches." Scarlett tensely urged him, laying a pushy hand on his shoulder and snapping him out of his stupor.

"R-right." he shook his head.

"Hey!" Shane huffed, staring at Glenn expectantly. "My binoculars?"

"Yeah, oh, yeah!"

Scarlett watched as Glenn dropped everything to dig hurriedly through his bag, Shane chewing noisily with an open mouth on the peach; staring rudely with no thanks to give the 22 year old. It was like watching an entitled director bark orders to his sleep-deprived, over-worked and underpaid AD— a scene she'd seen countless times.

It was harder to watch now that the person in the AD's spot was the golden-hearted Glenn, and the person in place of the entitled director was the man she halfway suspected had taken someone's life.

If she had any guts, she'd send Shane a dirty look.

"Okay. Bye." Glenn awkwardly scurried off, before he could say anything he'd regret.

Shane and Rick only chuckled at his peculiar behavior, turning their heads when Beth and Patricia came strolling up.

"We'd like to join you for gun trainin' today." the 16 year old politely stated, any lingering shyness draining from her blue eyes when they landed on the former actress. She grinned. "Mornin' Scarlett!"

     The woman flickered an uncertain smile and nodded, already anticipating the avalanche of unanswerable questions Beth had for her.

     "Hershels been very clear." Rick objected. "I can't involve any of you in what we do without his okay."

     "He doesn't like it, but he consented." Beth's voice was uneasy.

     "Otis was the only one who knew guns. Now that he's gone, we gotta learn to protect ourselves." Patricia declared. "Her father saw the sense in that."

     "No offense, but I'll ask Hershel myself." Rick then turned to Scarlett. "You coming too? We'd be happy to have you. Leaving in 15 or so."

     "Yeah, Scarlett! You should come!" Beth smiled.

     She hesitated, her eyes wandering over to the campsite beneath the patch of trees. Soon, she nodded. "I'd love to. Thanks."

     She ambled off back towards the tents, pausing when she reached Daryl's. Her brows furrowed at the rows of matching tiny holes in its side, the woman subconsciously leaning forward to investigate. She flinched when the sharp point of an arrow came plunging through the side of it, creating another symmetrical puncture. Daryl's blue eyes observed her from the other side of the mostly covered fabric, or the tent body, as Dale had taught her.

Scarlett cleared her throat. Clean slate.

"Hey." she greeted. He nodded back a hello against the floral fabric of the Greene's pillow— head no longer bandaged. "Mind if I come in for a sec?" Wordlessly, he gestured for her to come inside, the woman flickering a small smile before unzipping the the tent flap and crouching to enter.

His gaze on her was no longer so wary or critical, his brown shirt unbuttoned and his leg propped up comfortably— seeming much more relaxed than yesterday.

She offered him a peach she'd snagged from Glenn's bribery basket, sitting courteously down on the small stool beside his sleeping mat; leaving her bad leg straight.

"Thanks." he took it from her, turning it over in his hand once before taking a bite.

She pointed lightly towards the book laying on the ground, The Case of the Missing Man. She'd read it early on during her time with the Greenes. "I liked that one. Thought it was a little dry, but pretty good."

It was bullshit, she hadn't formed a single opinion on the story when she read it, but she needed something to say.

"Yeah... peace offerin' from Andrea." he glanced down at it, then back up at her, evidently not quite sure why she was inside of his tent. There was a short bout of awkward silence.

Scarlett took in a nervous breath, doing her best not to be so stiff and mechanical— hoping she felt genuine to him as she got to the point. "Hey, so, I'm sure you're not going out today given the..." her voice trailed off, and she circled her finger around her own temple, referring to his gunshot wound. "...uh, but, I just wanted to let you know that Shane is planning on going to an old housing development to look for Sophia today. North of where you found that farmhouse and her doll."

     He looked at her through slitted eyes and a crinkled forehead, as if confused by the information. "Why're you telling me?"

     Her already shaky confidence faltered a little, blinking at him for a second before speaking. "Oh, well I just thought since you've been out there looking for her everyday you would wanna know."

     Daryl stared at her, but he couldn't bring himself to say thanks; unsure as to why anyone would go out of their way to tell something to someone they barely knew only because they'd "wanna know." People who went out of their way to do nice things generally had an ulterior motive in his personal experience. But still, he felt a confused sense of appreciation for the simple act, and so he gave her a nod through his muddled expression.

     "Anyways." she rose back to her feet after a moment. "Hope you enjoy the book."

"Hey."

Scarlett didn't utter a word when Maggie grabbed the crook of her arm and tugged her away from anywhere ears might be listening; the serious girl checking thoroughly over her shoulder to make sure no one was around before looking back to the woman.

"I'm goin' on a run into town with Glenn. Gonna make sure he keeps quiet about the barn. You haven't seen him tell anyone, right?"

"No."

"Good. It'll all be water under the bridge soon." The 22 year old paused her rambling, furrowing her brows at Scarlett's odd expression. "What's the matter?"

The actress opened her mouth, not entirely sure of what she wished to say. She shifted her weight, her voice but a mere whisper, torn face etched into one of sensitive concern. "Do you really think they're still people?"

Maggie frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know, I just..." a sigh fell from Scarlett's lips, struggling to get the words out. "I keep thinking about that one in the well the other day, and how it... I'm not sure. It just— didn't feel like someone who was sick to me. Someone who was waiting to get better."

"I don't know. I'm not sure what I think about it anymore either." the Greene girl swallowed hard, and then grew solemn and stern. "What I do know is that it's what my dad needs right now. That hope? That belief that they're not gone? So I'm gonna put my conflictin' opinions aside and make sure Glenn keeps his damn mouth shut so my daddy can hold onto his hope."

     Scarlett felt her face turn red, her shoulders tensing— had she overstepped? She opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water, desperately wanting a perfectly scripted apology to fall from it. Unsolicited opinions... she wasn't good at them yet.

     "Just wanted to let you know. I'll see you later." Maggie announced, securing her hat onto her head before marching away; Scarlett turning helplessly around to watch her leave, dissatisfied with the way their conversation had gone.

     Holding a gun was not new to Scarlett. She'd played several roles where it had been required of her, and had endured many hours of professional weaponry training before. She wasn't thrown off by the weight of it in her hand, and her shooting stance was flawless. What she wasn't accustomed to was the sensation of actually firing a gun.

     Which unfortunately is the part that would've come in handy during the apocalypse.

Rick and Shane stalked back and forth behind their neat row of trainees as bullets flew and, if you were talented enough, glass bottles shattered in the near distance. Andrea was the best by far, Jimmy after her.

     Scarlett stood between Beth and Carol, allowing her finger to rest calmly on the trigger before firing— missing the red-tinted milk bottle for the fifth time in a row.

Shane let out a whistle as he sauntered up behind her. "Wish your aim was as good as your stance, Hollywood."

Scarlett wasn't worried about his teasing. She was used to teasing. Her mind was on the disheartening conversation she'd had with Maggie earlier, not the makeshift practice range.

Beth's eyes flickered over to him briefly, hands behind his back like a drill sergeant as he leaned over the woman's shoulder; practically breathing down her neck. She glared at him without anyone noticing for only a short moment before smiling at Scarlett and nudging her with her elbow. "It's okay. You'll get it soon."

Scarlett smiled weakly back at her before the tiny blonde girl raised her own gun again, keeping her eyes on the former actress. "So, it really wasn't you shootin' in any of those movies? I always thought—"

"Greene, lest talking more shooting." Shane announced, the girl deflating and going quiet; looking back out upon the range.

"Oh, give her a break, Shane." Carol huffed, and he raised his hands in surrender with a far-from-surrendering smirk.

"Shane." Rick too shot him a warning glare before joining Scarlett's side, pointing out her grip on the gun. "Try putting your fingers here instead of cupping the bottom."

The woman adjusted her hands, then fired again— nicking the side of bottle this time. Rick grinned and clapped her on the back once, but her deadened expression didn't change. "There you go!" He grew a little more serious after a second, still genuine as ever; guns still firing around them. "I don't think I ever got the chance to thank you properly."

     Scarlett's brow furrowed and she let her arm rest at her side, the nose of the gun safely facing the dirt as she turned to face him. "For what?"

     "Helping Carl when we first got here." His eyes wandered over to where the little boy stood a few feet away with a gun of his own, smiling proudly as Lori watchfully stood behind him. Rick placed his hands on his hips, leaning his weight all into one leg and squinting at her against the sun. "Helping me when we first got here. Bringing me back to earth a little when I wasn't in my right mind. Means a lot."

     The smile she gave him was less than halfhearted, and she nodded unenthusiastically. "Of course."

"Hey!"

Scarlett's ears pricked up at the sound of Maggie's infuriated voice, head snapping up from where she had been staring at the dirt— fretting her previous conversation with the very girl who was fuming now.

"We got your stuff." She slammed the gate behind her, a brown paper bag in her hand as she stormed towards Lori folding clothes.

"Maggie! Hang on, please!" Glenn trailed closely after her.

"C-come on in here." Lori nervously gestured towards the tent, but Maggie only halted before her in broad daylight; furiously tearing open in the bag.

"Why? Nothing to hide. We got your special delivery right here! We got your lotion, your conditioner!" she yanked the items from the bag one by one, chucking them aggressively into the dirt at the woman's feet. "Your soap opera digest!"

"Maggie—" Lori tried.

"Next time you want something, get it your damn self, we're not your errand boys." she seethed.

"Honey, I—"

"And here's your abortion pills!"

All the color drained from Lori's face, Glenn's mouth falling open as Maggie spun on her heel; smoke practically billowing from her ears as she marched off with clenched fists shaking at her side. The actress's eyes met Glenn's concerned gaze, appalled for the woman he'd vowed to keep a dire secret for. Quickly, Scarlett was hurrying after Maggie.

The second Maggie saw Scarlett heading her way, she made a b-line for her; not letting her get a word in before speaking. "You were right."

The blonde blinked, watching the 22 year old's chest still erratically rising and falling. "What?" she panted.

Maggie's lip quivered, voice unsteady as the words spilled faster than Scarlett could hardly comprehend from her lips. "You were right about the thing in the well and the things in the barn. They aren't sick people waitin' to get better. They aren't mom and Shawn anymore. They're walkers."

     Scarlett stammered silently for a moment, eyes trailing over the minute splotches of blood on Maggie's white blouse; a blouse that had been spotless when she'd left only a couple of hours ago. "Are you okay?" she asked softly after a moment.

     Tears welled in Maggie's pink eyes, and she shook her head; taking a shaky step forward a placing and hand on Scarlett's shoulder. She gave it a squeeze before scurrying off, quiet sniffles trailing after her.

cam speaks!  

HOW ARE ALL YOU LOVELY PEOPLE?!?

Also!! Just wanted to make a quick note here!
I try my very best not to stray from the plot, script,
or storyline when I'm writing. I don't like just
giving other characters' parts/lines/roles to my
ocs, A because it diminishes the importance of those
characters and B because I like to make them as
unique as possible. that being said, it is going to be
pretty much impossible to do that fully with this story.
since eva & glenn are going to be cannon here, lots
of maggie's stuff will have to change. Hope that's
okay with everyone!

Love u all!! Have a great week!

word count   4,837