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Hi guys! I hope you enjoy the update!!!
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Jo
"No, no, no, no," Daryl snarled. He was pacing tight, angry lines back and forth across the room. He looked from Rick to me, then shook his head and paced another line.
"It's a good idea," I argued calmly. It had been nearly ten minutes since I shared my idea and he only seemed to be getting more upset. Allowing myself to become upset and rising to his temper was not going to help convince him so I had managed to remain calm. Rick kept looking back and forth between Daryl and I as though he were watching a tennis match.
Daryl threw his hands up on the air. "No, it ain't. It's a terrible idea, it's dangerous," he snapped, his words coming out harsher than I knew he meant them to be.
"But there's guns, and supplies," I countered calmly. I liked to think I would always have been able to keep my zen when arguing a counter point with Daryl, but the truth was if I raised my voice at all my ribs screamed. So I kept myself carefully measured and controlled.
Daryl snorted in disgust. "Ya don't know that, they coulda been cleaned out a long time ago and that's a long way to go with no guarantees."
I turned to look at Rick who was leaning up against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. I arched a brow, trying to get him to come to my defense. So far he had been carefully quiet. He shot me a glare for dragging him into this then pushed himself off of the wall. He held up his hands between us. "Don't look at me like that Jo, Daryl's right, it is dangerous. And I wouldn't be the one making the trip, so it isn't up to me. We don't have any one but you two and Carl to spare and you are not taking Carl back there."
Daryl grunted, but I could tell he was mad Rick hadn't outright ruled out my idea as crazy. Truth be told it was a little crazy. But we needed it.
"There's more than one place along the way..." I said carefully, knowing Daryl would understand immediately what I meant. He was really going to lose it now.
Daryl turned back to me, his eyes hard and his jaw locked. "You're talking about one hell of a trip down memory lane darl'in," when he called me darling this time it didn't feel like a warm, term of endearment. I couldn't think of the last time Daryl was this mad at me.
I lifted my chin, trying to look as confident as one can while being bedridden. "We can do it. And it's worth it if it gets us what we need,"
"Four hundred plus miles?" Daryl snarled. "Do ya remember what it took us ta get here? Who we lost?!" he yelled.
I pulled back a little, not on purpose but he noticed and deflated immediately. I hated that. Hated when my body responded without thought or meaning. And I especially hated that it hurt Daryl. He had never done anything to hurt me, and he never would, and yet sometimes it seemed as though he was the one who paid most for it. I wanted him to fight me on this if that was how he felt about it. I didn't want him to back off because he thought he needed to protect me.
"Daryl-" I started to say.
But he shook his head. His voice was controlled once more and he had his hands hanging loosely at his sides. He was being very careful with his body language now. "There's no way to know we would even make it back."
"We would," I argued, his sudden calm made me mad where his temper earlier had not. It didn't make sense, not even to me and I recognized that, but it didn't stop me from being pissed. I wasn't necessarily mad at him, but at the situation. He was being too careful, if I wasn't hurt he wouldn't be shutting this down so readily. If I hadn't been hurt he would have at least listened to me.
"Where do you suggest we find the gas to do this?" he challenged. "We need every drop we got."
"We can siphon it as we go-" I started to say but he cut me off.
"And how much of it have we found has already gone bad, huh? What if we get down there and can't get back. Won't matter what supplies we find if we can't get home."
"We'll get home," I said firmly.
Daryl shook his head. "We only got a couple weeks. And in case you forgot darlin, we are having this little meeting in our bedroom because you're too hurt to get outta bed."
I set my jaw and started to push myself to get to my feet. I was not going to let him use me as an excuse to not get what we needed. We could do this. I could do this. And I was determined to prove it to them.
"I'm fine," I snarled through gritted teeth. This was a good idea and it shouldn't be shot down just because Daryl was worried about me. I wasn't going to let my injuries stop us.
Daryl's jaw was set and his eyes hard as he pointed at me. "Ya ain't fine Jo, and don't think for a second we ain't gonna talk about what happened yesterday. I ain't stupid Jo, I know there is more to it than ya said."
That did take some of the wind out of my sails. I didn't want to talk about what happened. I wanted to ignore it. The drug hazy sleep had made the memories foggy and feel far away, that was exactly where I wanted to leave them. Revisiting them wouldn't help me and would only serve to make Daryl feel either guilty or enraged. Neither would be helpful right now.
I cleared my throat. He was too worked up, I wasn't going to win this head on. Not when I was sure all Daryl could hear in his head was the screaming of every protective alpha male instinct he possessed. I needed to compromise. I took a deep breath and forced myself to stop fighting. "So I take a couple days to rest here, then we go and I can rest on the way down," my words sounded reasonable and I was pretty proud of myself.
Daryl saw straight through me. He snorted humorlessly and I watched his temper rise in his eyes once more. The blue irises were snapping as he glared down at me. "Like it's going to be some family road trip," he snapped sarcastically. "When has it ever been that simple out there Jo? It always goes wrong! It's dangerous! And you're too damn stubborn to recognize when you are running straight at it!"
He was yelling now, but it was his use of my name that let me know I had really pissed him off.
"Enough!" Rick called to be heard over our raising voices. Both Daryl and I turned to look at him, we had both forgotten he was still there.
"Look-" he started to say. "It is a good idea Jo...I wouldn't have thought of it," he allowed.
I turned to Daryl and smirked at him. Smirking felt juvenile but I had resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at him. Daryl made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat and threw his hands up angrily.
"However-" Rick started and I felt myself deflate as Daryl puffed himself up, clearly convinced Rick was going to side with him. "Georgia is a long ways away, and yes, if you retrace our steps you might find a lot of guns and supplies we left behind but Jo...most of the places you are thinking of were left because they were overrun..." Rick shook his head in disbelief. "Maybe if you weren't hurt-" he started to say and then he stopped. "Even then, getting back into those places would be incredibly dangerous."
"It's because they were overrun that the supplies will still be there. We just need to fight our way in and get the supplies and go. No problem," I said earnestly. They were acting like I hadn't thought this through, but I had. I turned to Daryl, meeting his eyes. "We can do this," I said, pushing myself up. I grit my teeth against the pain, because it was hard to look determined when you were grimacing in pain. "You just aren't listening to me."
Daryl made one final noise of frustration and stomped out of the room. I had pushed him too far.
I sighed as I stared after him and I flopped back down onto the pillows and draped a hand over my eyes. I suddenly felt completely exhausted. I lay there for a few seconds before Rick cleared his throat.
I dropped my arm and glared over at him. Rick chuckled and swiped at the side of his mouth in an attempt to hide his smile from my scowling face. "You know he worries about you."
"I'd be fine," I snapped back, I sounded grumpy even to my own ears, but didn't feel inclined to do anything about it.
Rick looked me up and down and arched a brow. "You nearly weren't Jo, you pushed yourself too far and too hard and you're as hurt as I have ever seen you."
"I wasn't hit by a car this time," I growled at him.
Rick pressed his lips together tightly as he remembered how hurt I had been after the hospital. Without Abraham and Rosita's care I might not have made it and we both knew that. His hand resting on his gun tightened. Daryl could be an overbearing and protective alpha male but so was Rick. And try as I might to hold myself apart, Rick viewed me as his responsibility and Rick took that kind of thing as seriously as Daryl did...hell, as seriously as I did. I respected him for it, even if it frustrated me right now.
I sighed. He was right of course, and Daryl wasn't entirely unjustified in his worry, but I really wanted to get out of here. I needed to do something to help the group, to help in the fight against Negan. I couldn't sit here and wait for him to come back for me another time. I wouldn't. I wasn't some victim who was just going to lay here and wallow in what happened. Not when I could get out there and find supplies for the group.
"You're right," I told Rick nodding.
Rick pulled back and frowned. "Really?" he asked in surprise.
I looked at him. "Yeah, really," I snapped, glaring at him.
He held up his hands in surrender.
"I get that he worries, but it's still a good idea that shouldn't be discounted just because it could be a little dangerous. We need to finish talking about it." I sucked in a breath and sort of rolled myself out of bed. I caught myself on the edge of the bed and shoved myself up. The wraps only did so much to hold the ribs in place when I was moving. I groaned in pain.
Rick made a noise of disgust in the back of his throat. "Damnit Jo, just lay back down and rest. I'll get him," Rick said shoving himself off the wall and heading towards the door.
I was leaning against one hand on the bed, bracing myself up as best as I could as I gasped for air. As much as I wanted to argue and push past the pain to stalk after him and yell at him for being so stubborn, what was the point? They both knew how hurt I was. I wasn't fooling anyone.
I let myself flop back down on the bed, Rick would talk some sense into Daryl and then he and I could finish our discussion. I was just going to close my eyes for a minute.
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Jo
Hours later I startled awake in a cold sweat. The feeling of Terry pinning me down still clung to my sweat soaked body like a phantom limb. I gasped and tried to sit up but the pain was sharp and I sucked in a breath and fell back against the pillows. The pain made me feel trapped and despite the resistance in my chest my breath started to come in panicked pants.
"Hey, hey," over the pounding of my heart I heard the thickly accented voice call gently from across the room. I whipped my head frantically to the left to see Daryl pushing himself to his feet from where he had been sitting with his back against the wall. He was across the room in two strides. I grit my teeth and tried to glare at him so he would know I was still mad, but the nightmare was still too close and I was no where near in control of my emotions. Belatedly, I realized I was trembling slightly.
Daryl noticed and he dropped his crossbow on the ground to free his hands. I was stiff at first, trying to hold onto my anger from earlier, trying to wrap myself in it to drive out the fear. He ignored me and gathered me close, wiping away tears I hadn't realized were on my cheeks.
"Shh," he whispered, leaning down and pressing his forehead against mine. His breath mingled with mine and just the feel of him being close was enough to ground me. We sat like that for a long time. He reached up and gently combed his fingers through my hair. I closed my eyes as his gentle fingers grazed my scalp.
"Do ya want to talk about it?" He asked, his voice rumbling in a low baritone in his chest.
I shook my head, and pinched my eyes shut even tighter. I never wanted to think about it again. I had told him what happened but I had no intention of going into detail. I certainly didn't want to add to Daryl's guilt and that's all it would do. And the Negan part...well I didn't know what to say about that.
I wanted to go back and kill Terry myself, over and over again. But I hadn't been the one to kill him. It hadn't been my knife to sink into his neck. I hadn't been able to. I had been saved by a man that was our enemy. The tightness of panic was returning. I just needed to get out of here and do something. My hands tightened into fists, but there wasn't a knife in them.
"When we go-" I started to say.
Daryl groaned in frustration and mashed his lips against mine in a hard, brief kiss. He jerked back, my face cupped in his large, warm hands. "Ya can be a damn pit bull when ya want ya know that?"
I nodded and swiped at my face, embarrassment burned through me as I felt tears on my fingers.
He shook his head in disbelief but his hands and eyes were still soft. "We-" he started to say but he was cut off by the sound of pounding feet on the stairs.
Daryl whirled away from me and snatched up his crossbow from the floor. I shoved myself up and reached for a knife that was sitting on the night stand. I don't know who put it there, it hadn't been me. I was betting it was Daryl, and I was grateful.
It wasn't likely to be an enemy. Our house was set far enough back from the main gate it wouldn't be a random choice. But everyone knew this was where Rick and his family lived which meant it would be a likely first target. Our door was flung open and Carl appeared, gasping for breath. He completely ignored our weapons and met Daryl's eyes.
Daryl lowered his crossbow so it wasn't pointing at Carl's chest but he didn't put it down. "What?" he asked, his voice already low and gruff.
"Savior's," Carl gasped, his eyes landed on Daryl.
Daryl was already in motion. He whirled back to his spot on the floor and snatched up the jacket he had been wearing. He looked around quickly as though checking to make sure the was no further evidence of his presence. "What are they doing here?" Daryl demanded. "Pick up?"
Carl shook his head. "We shouldn't have another pick up for a couple weeks and its only one truck."
"Simon?" Daryl asked.
It didn't make sense. Why send only one truck? It couldn't be a random drop by. It was risky...or incredibly ballsy. Only one person would be that ballsy. A bad feeling went over me.
"I didn't see who it was before dad sent me to warn you," Carl said honestly. "But you need to hide," Carl said pointing at Daryl.
Daryl looked down at me and a deep crease formed between his eyes. I could see him debating. He pressed his lips into a hard line and he shook his head. "I ain't leaving ya alone," he said, his voice rumbling in his chest. "Not after yesterday," he said firmly.
I swallowed. "Dare, you have to hide."
His shoulders tightened and he looked ready to argue. He turned back towards the closet.
"A closet?" Carl asked in disbelief. "Go to the attic," he ordered. "They won't have as many guys as last time and they didn't check the attics when they were looking for you."
Daryl still looked like he wasn't convinced and I started to shove myself up to get ready to argue.
Carl looked back and forth between the two of us. I could read the growing confusion on his face, then his eye fell to my injuries and his jaw tightened. "I'll stay with her," he told Daryl.
Indecision flashed in Daryl's eyes.
"Daryl!" Carl snapped. "Do you want them to catch you here? You gotta go, now!"
Daryl's eyes cut to me. He didn't want to leave me when I couldn't protect myself.
"Go!" I snapped.
His hand tightened on the strap of his crossbow and he finally jerked his chin down roughly in agreement. He crossed to the bed swiftly and cupped the side of my face in one hand. He pressed his forehead against mine. "Stay safe," he whispered.
I leaned forward, gritting my teeth against the pain in my ribs. I pressed my lips against his. "Please, don't do anything dumb," I whispered.
He snorted and nodded, then whirled away and strode out of the room. Carl jogged after him. I lay back down and tried to make it look like I had been bed ridden. Which I had, so I don't know why I was so worried about it. My hands were shaking as I adjusted the blankets. I didn't know why I was so nervous. It was only one truck. Probably it was Simon, come to talk to Rick about something. Probably it had nothing to do with me. Probably no one was going to come here.
Stop, breath. Reset, breath.
I hadn't had to use the old trick in a long time. But it helped. I could control my erratic breathing, and my thudding heart had started to slow. I wasn't going to be helpful to anyone as a panicked mess.
Even knowing Daryl would be safe there was an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. I put the knife back on the night stand where I could easily reach it. I wasn't wearing anything other than my bra and bandages, but the ace bandage covered me from belly button to collar bone so it probably wouldn't be worth the pain to get out of bed and grab a shirt.
Five minutes later Carl reappeared. I lifted a brow and he nodded. "I looked out," he said, dropping down to sit on the floor near the bed. "The truck is parked outside Tara's house."
I scowled at that, I felt like I was missing something. There was some vital piece here that I hadn't followed. Something Negan was doing or wanted that I should have noticed. I instantly felt immeasurably guilty. I had let myself get wound up, lost in my own head when I should have been thinking about the group. It had been incredible selfish.
"My dad went over," Carl explained and he leaned back against the wall. After a few moments he cleared his throat and glanced at me. "There's no guarantee they will even come here," he said. "You might as well rest while you can."
He was right and I wondered when he had gotten so smart. I felt like he had grown up so much in the last few months. I wondered if I was the only one who noticed.
I leaned further back against the pillow and adjusted my blankets. Carl seemed satisfied and took a knife off his belt and started playing with it. I watched as he moved through the exercises I had shown him. He was getting pretty good. He glanced up at me one but he didn't say anything when he noticed my eyes were still open. No matter how hurt I was I wasn't going to be able to sleep when there were enemies inside our walls.
"You're getting pretty good," I said jerking my chin towards the knife in his hand.
He looked down, but I could tell my compliment pleased him. "Thanks," he said lamely. "I haven't been throwing much," he confessed.
I nodded. "Hasn't been a lot of free time," I said.
He just nodded and turned his attention back to the knife.
After nearly half an hour my gritty eyes started to drift closed. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe they really had just come here to check in or talk to Rick. Maybe it wasn't him at all.
I must have drifted a little bit because I didn't hear the door open upstairs. Instead it was the sound of his booming laugh that startled me awake. I was disoriented, caught between reality and a dream, uncertain what was real. The heavy, booted feet on the floor made me jerk awake as I realized it was real. He was here.
My heart started pounding in my chest.
"It'll go a hell of a lot easier if you just tell him where the goodies are, then you don't get your cookie jar raided."
I went absolutely still at the sound of his voice. My breath caught in my throat. I could feel Carl looking at me, but I didn't want to meet his gaze. I didn't want him to see the emotions I had no control over.
"Don't be rude Rick, the good doctor just wants to take a peak in the medicine cabinet."
I swallowed, my hand tightened in the blanket.
I heard Negan's chuckle from upstairs. Then there was the sound of heavy boots on the stairs and I knew he was here for me. I closed my eyes, squeezing them shut as I fought to take control of my wayward emotions. I couldn't be this all over the place and face him, not again. I had to be in control.
Stop, reset.
Stop, reset.
Stop, reset.
I chanted over and over again in my mind until I heard my bedroom door click open. I kept my eyes closed for a few more seconds. I wasn't ready for this. When no one spoke and nothing happened I finally opened them.
Negan stood in the doorway, his eyes were glued on me. I couldn't read the expression on his face. For a moment I thought maybe it was relief...but that didn't make sense and I didn't believe it. He looked too menacing for me to believe any of the gentler emotions he was pretending to have.
Carl pushed himself to his feet and stepped up next to me beside the bed. He put a protective hand on my shoulder and glared at Negan his hand resting on the knife at his waist.
Negan let out a low chuckle. He had the damn bat resting over one shoulder and the knife he had used to kill Terry was at his hip. He was wearing the leather jacket again but he was missing the red scarf. I grit my teeth as the memories from yesterday tried to take over. I knew the weight and smell of that jacket and it made a small pit of rage grow in my stomach.
This was the man who had killed my friends and tortured Daryl and here he was swaggering in like he owned the place. And once again I was helpless in front of him. I wanted to kill him with every thing in me. I glanced back at the knife resting on the nightstand. Negan saw me look, but he didn't seem surprised nor did he react. Movement behind him caught his attention and when Dr. Carson appeared over his shoulder his cruel, cocky smile stretched across his face.
But Negan's eyes didn't match the smile on his face, or his body language. His eyes for a brief moment looked relieved. Then it was like he remembered himself and leaned back and twirled his bat playfully. "Well, would you look at this, doc. It's my hot friend."
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Hi guys, I hope you enjoyed the update.
I would like to dedicate this chapter to -Darkguardian- Thank you so so much!!!
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