#sophia is always haunting him anyway. so does it even matter ..

[horrorsterrors]

"january the third, 1995. my daughter's birthday. i remember."

(naming the witch james t siegel, true detective 1x01, repetition soren kierkegaard)

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.58 Still scared

I appreciated her asking, but the question blindsided me and I hesitated to answer. The issues that still haunted me were mine to work through, and I didn't want to burden her with them. The last thing I wanted to do was make her feel even the slightest bit of regret. But I couldn't lie to her and say everything was fine. No matter what I wanted or how I presented it, this burden would always inevitably end up at her feet. She had always handled me and my hesitations with grace, but I wished she didn't have to handle them at all.

"I'm going to be honest with you," I said, "but I don't want you to take it personally and think you did something wrong, okay?"

"Of course. Okay."

I inhaled deeply and bared my soul.

"Being here with you gives me so much joy. I am where I want to be. These feelings I have for you...I've been trapped inside myself with them for a while. You forced me to reckon with them in a way that both scared me and freed me. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't have concerns."

She nodded slowly, and I feared she still took offense despite my warning.

"You think this is a mistake?" she asked.

"No! Being with you is one of the best decisions I ever made, however scary and unexpected it was. But..."

I had shared many things about my life with Sophia, but I glossed over the painful parts in favor of keeping the mood light and not wanting her to feel sorry for me or whatever women did with men's drama. But I couldn't keep her in the dark forever.

"The thing is," I continued, "My parents are divorced. You know that. What you don't know is how it affected me. I didn't find out why they broke until I was well into my teenage days. I lived nearly my entire childhood wondering what happened and confused about why we couldn't be a family anymore, especially when my parents seemed to get along."

"My mom cheated on my dad for literally no reason. She was in love with another man their entire relationship, even though she said she didn't realize she had feelings for him until right before she cheated. But anyway...I was so devastated by that. Like, I just couldn't picture it. My mom? She was so perfect and magical to me. I just couldn't imagine her hurting my dad like that...hurting me like that..."

"And to be so flippant about it? Who decides to destroy their family like that??"

My face started getting hot, and I couldn't lose my cool, so I took a moment to calm down before continuing my sordid tale.

"Ever since then, bits of information about their relationship and past lives keep coming out here and there, and every time I think it can't get worse, it does. I feel like if this can happen to two people who were very happy and in love, what hope is there for me? I have zero reassurance that I can be happy with someone for the rest of my life."

I took another moment to breathe and reflect on everything I blurted out. If I didn't have Sophia and hadn't committed to being brave, I think my words could have hardened my heart. But I continued.

"My parents started dating, moved in together, and got married within a matter of days. One thing my dad said he would do differently was date longer. We've known each other way longer than my parents did, and even though it feels like we rushed into living together, I know that's not really the case. But I can't deny how familiar this feels. On one hand, I feel like we have a solid foundation and are well on our way to a long, fulfilling life together. But on the other hand, I feel like we're following in my parents' footsteps and are perfectly primed for repeating their mistakes."

"Wow," she said. "You never really told me about their situation. I figured it was just one of those things you didn't like talking about. I had no idea it was that bad."

"Now you understand why it took me so long to ask you out. I wanted to call you so badly immediately after getting home from Mt. Komorebi, but...I just couldn't. This fear paralyzed me. I only recently decided to work toward fighting against it."

"I understand, Luca. Trust me," she said with a little extra something in her voice.

I turned back toward her with my eyebrow raised, but she turned away from me.

"I am all too familiar with what you're going through," she said.

"Yeah?"

She nodded.

"Let's just say...I've been where your dad is..."

The anger that attempted to arise in me earlier returned, and I wanted to know names and addresses. What kind of idiot cheats on a sweet angel like Sophia??

"I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

"Yeah, thanks. I've had a lot of time to get over that, but like you, there are certain things I haven't been able to shake. And also like you, I'm working to grow past them. I asked you to live here because I know you're the man for me, and I am the woman for you. I love you, and I want you around. But...there is a tiny voice inside that tells me I need to keep you close so I can watch out for threats. I ignore it because I trust you, but it doesn't go away completely. So...yeah. I know what you're going through."

I completely missed the last part of what she said because my hearted pounded in my chest so loud I couldn't hear a thing when she admitted she loved me. SHE LOVED ME?!! The weight of her admission pressed down on me, filling me with a mix of exhilaration and terror. I wanted to reach out and hold her, to tell her how I felt and say it back, but the fear held me captive. I could share many things with Sophia with ease, but when it came down to exposing the deepest depths of my heart, I freaked out. The words got stuck in a huge knot in my throat. I swallowed a few times, trying to stuff down the fear that tried to choke me, but it prevailed.

"I...I want to say it back. I'm trying to... In my heart, I know that's what I feel, but..."

I longed for the words she deserved to hear to flow effortlessly from my lips, and it pained me to admit I wasn't ready. It hurt so bad I could feel the pressure of tears building up behind my eyes. But I couldn't cry in front of her. Not over this, especially after everything I'd just confessed to her. But she grabbed my hands and caressed them, giving me hope that one day I'd be okay enough to tell her exactly how valued she was.

"Hey...it's okay, Luca. Don't beat yourself up. I said it because I was ready, not because I wanted to hear you say it back. We don't have to be ready at the same time. I agreed with what you said about us rushing. It was a long time coming, but it was sudden no matter how you look at it. You need time to adjust, which was why I asked the question in the first place. Don't rush the process on account of me. When you're ready, you'll say it."

I don't know what I did to make the Watcher deem me worthy of such a woman, but I was eternally grateful.

"I'm glad you understand. You're a real gem and I..."

I tried to ignore her and force myself to say it, but it still wouldn't come out. Instead, I said, "I care about you deeper than I've ever cared about anyone."

She smiled.

"I will take that and cherish it."

Need to catch up? See what you missed or start reading here!

When I moved in Luca, I checked her relationships, whims, etc. to see what I'd be working with. She had the fear of being cheated on! We're still getting to know her, but what do you think?

[shimmershae]

My thoughts on Episode 6--On the Inside

Very appropriate title by the way.  Works in a multitude of ways.  

As always, my randomness is going beneath a cut again to spare the eyeballs of those of you that don’t want to see it at all and also?  Help those of you that have somehow stayed spoiler-free in this brand-new age of early release episodes.  It is still so wild to me that I’m a full episode ahead of half the fandom.  I don’t know what I’m going to do when we get to the final episode and they decide to make us all suffer together--because somehow I do feel they will do exactly that after spoiling us for the first 23 episodes.  It is going to be agonizing.  

Anyway.  Without further ado, Shae’s stream of consciousness review (of sorts).  

Not fair, Angela.  Opening the episode with that shot of that big ass spider.  I hate those suckers.  So naturally, they’re an easy sell for setting the horror scene to me, lol.  

Okay.  Who the hell’s chasing Virgil and Connie?  Walker No-See-Ums?

Barely a minute in and the atmosphere for this episode is moody AF.  

What is this?  Tara Jr. The Walking Dead?  LOL.  Where’s the Scarlett for this mini plantation house?  Anyway.  First three minutes of this episode?  Just as attention grabbing as the first five episode openings this season.  I don’t think people out there are giving our writers enough love for that.  Every episode so far has opened like a mini movie.  

With the way the Walking Dead logo keeps crumbling away with each successive episode, somehow it wouldn’t surprise me at all if the Carol and Daryl spinoff was eventually titled The Living and had flowers growing out of each letter, lol.  I mean, there would be a certain sort of life-affirming symmetry in a show that’s been promised to be much lighter in tone doing just that.  

More Carol and Aaron?  Yes, please.  I don’t necessarily like Carol staying at home and sitting the sidelines like a figurative happy little homemaker in the B story while the rest of the mains are trying like hell to sell the A story, but if she’s going to be totally prohibited from the main storyline until it’s time to blow shit up?  I’m going to continue enjoy getting to see her do what she should have been doing for seasons--interacting with others in the community, especially Aaron and the ladies.  

Truly.  I really am loving my girl getting some quality Aaron and Rosita time.  It’s so long overdue.  

Bless sweet Kelly.  Riding off to her sister’s rescue.  

Why isn’t Lydia shown as part of these plans?  For someone that could barely read last season, I doubt that big ass map was a piece of cake for her and it’s all just guesswork anyway without her guidance.  I mean, why does it feel like they are cutting some of this stuff that might not seem like much plot-wise but would go a long way toward establishing different character beats?  Personally, I would have loved to see her involved in the search and sharing scenes again with Carol and bonding with Kelly. 

Virgil be having that “I always feel like somebody’s watching me” feeling.  Don’t you hate that, lol?  

“You haven’t slept in days.”  But how many days, Virgil?  I’m going to need a number because I’m confused AF about this timeline at this point.  What we’re seeing and what different pieces of dialogue is telling us is not exactly lining up.  I’m going to find it awful hilarious if it hasn’t even been two weeks since the cave in.  For reasons.  

Connie’s spidey senses are clearly tingling.  

Alrighty, then.  She’s clearly got PTSD.  Understandable.  They’ve all had it.  Some have been treated more sympathetically than others, though.  

I mean, it never seems to cross anybody’s mind how Carol probably sees Henry’s head on that pike, Mika’s pale and bloody body, Lizzie crumpled face down in a bed of yellow flowers, Sophia with a smoking bullet hole through her undead head whenever she closes her eyes but whatever.  

Okay though.  But what if Connie had really shitty, impossible to read handwriting?  AKA doctor’s  handwriting.  What then?  

Leah’s face honestly twists my insides whenever I see it, lol.  It’s quiet a visceral thing.  No, that does not make me a horrible person.  Not everybody wants or has to drink the awesome, great, redeemable villainess Kool-Aid.  IMHO, she’s got a face meant for a Walker.  Perfect makeover idea.  Eh.  Mostly it’s her expression and the deadness of her eyes.  

Anyway.  Why is it always the fingers?  Eff that.  

Listen.  If ya’ll can’t tell Daryl’s conflicted AF with the situation he’s landed in, you don’t know how to read NR’s face and eyes.  He’s not a masterclass like MMB but he’s pretty darn good when he wants to be.  

I honestly feel sorry for Redshirt Frost.  

“You do what you gotta do.”  Frost knows what’s what and he’s willing to walk the walk for Maggie.  Impressive loyalty.  I’m left wondering how the current, colder incarnation of Maggie inspired it because I’m still struggling to see it.  Anywho.  My point is the dude knows the score and just gave Daryl the okay.  

Daryl taking off his angel vest before stepping into the role of torturer/interrogator=him shedding the persona/the man Judith and RJ and Lydia and Carol know him to be.  Pushing away his man of honor status so he can just survive somehow.  

Pope never quits chewing whatever the hell he’s got in his mouth.  It’s kind of distracting.  

Ohhh.  We’re back to the Haunted Mansion.  I mean house.  Where are the Hitchhiking Ghosts?  

All the eyes scratched out of those creepy pictures=spooky.  

The good old fogged up bathroom mirror shot.  Somebody’s been watching and studying their horror movies, lol.  Not gonna lie though.  I’m legit bracing myself for the jump scares I know have to be coming.  

I’m loving the music/score in these scenes.  

Truthfully, I could care less about these Reapers.  But they are hella attractive, lol.  Listen.  Angela knows what she’s doing.  

Kelly’s horse is so pretty.  Prayer chain for that baby.  

More dead horses?  Why?  

Connie’s slingshot?  Sorry.  I maintain, no matter how much I like these two, that they have the lamest weapons ever.  Endless supply of Virginia rocks or not.  

So.  Did Virgil and Connie enjoy a little equine for dinner?  Did they kill it before the Walkers fed?  What monsters!  Yeah, no.  Not if they were starving even if I personally could not have.  The more probable story is they fled the camp in a panic and left the horse behind and then it went down.  Sorry.  I didn’t exactly study the wounds on the poor animal because it is so traumatizing to me to continue to see them meet such dastardly ends on this show.  I don’t know who the hell has such a score to settle with horses but stop it.  

Days.  It’s only been days.  Not weeks.  So many times with all that Daryl and Company have had to contend with since the cave in?  Those do not exist, lol.  They’re just a convenient, appeasing piece of dialogue thrown at a fanbase primed and ready to read everything into not much of anything.  There’s just not been enough time for it to happen unless Daryl has literally been up 24/7 for all of them.  You know, strategizing how to attack the remainders of Alpha’s horde, figuring out how to defend Hilltop before it fell, healing from the wound he sustained at Alpha’s hand, sitting on that log all damn night with Negan waiting on Carol to come home, having a lover’s quarrel with his best damn everything, taking care of the Grimes babies and Lydia, being the reluctant leader.  Kang, why you playing them like that?  Daryl’s a super guy but he’s not a superhuman with clones.  So many times my ass.  

Seriously.  Who been watching Connie and Virgil?  The MIA Oceansiders?  Beta’s Fee Fi Fo Fum Ghost?  

Nice.  A Michonne mention.  Maybe the truth will start to trickle out.  

LMAO at Connie’s “I’m not staying here.”  Me neither, girl.  I would be outta that house so fast.  

They really “Quiet Placing” this episode.  Honestly?  I’m kinda loving it.  

WTF was that?  I know she can’t hear but you telling me all the little hairs on her arms, legs, and neck didn’t stand the fuck up and say fuck this shit, I’m gone?  Pardon my language, lovelies, but that moment had my heart kicking up several beats.  

Okay, okay.  To be fair to Connie, every hair on her body been doing that since the front door closed.  Maybe they’re desensitized.  

Gollum’s chasing Connie!!!  He/She wants their Precious!!!

The knee jerk reactions about this episode sight unseen are OTT, honestly.  And I mean no disrespect by saying that.  I can understand completely where they’re coming from because we’ve been burned so long in this fandom.  But it’s obvious the spoiler source has their particular biases and reads into things in such a way that don’t line up with what’s actually being shown onscreen.  Daryl’s loyalty in this episode and all along quite clearly lies with his family and his community.  He’s been playing Leah since the start and is truly just trying to survive somehow.  

Awful thought.  The Reaper that’s so suspish of Daryl--haven’t quite caught his name or really cared to.  I feel like he might try to get to Daryl somehow.  When he realizes that Daryl cares no more for Leah than any human would care for somebody (they thought) they used to know?  He’s going after Dog.  Or Carol should she finally join this story. 

I refuse to believe Carol isn’t going to be a part of this story.  Because they messing with her mans, lol.  

“You’re ever with us or you’re not.”  Now where have I heard those words before?  I wish I could find that Daryl gif because that had to be one of the funniest things ever, lol.  

Unrealistic suggestion to Daryl, Leah?  Breathing oxygen seems to piss off Carver.  Oh look.  He finally has a name for me, lol.  

I love how all three of the ladies--Carol, Magna, and Rosita--look at Kelly with such indulgent, adoring “little sis, you alright?” eyes.  

They are seriously the most beautiful quartet of characters.  I mean all of them are lovely but Carol and Rosita this season?  Ugh.  The unfairness of the pretty.  

Human bones.  Terminus callback, lovelies.  How it all would have eventually gone down if Gareth and Co. hadn’t met the business end of Rick’s red machete.  

So many horror movie homages in this one.  

Virgil’s like “let’s leave this Texas Chainsaw Massacre behind.”  

Connie and Virgil have obviously bonded, ya’ll.  I’m surprised by how much I’m enjoying their scenes together when the character mostly got on my nerves with Michonne.  He’s a good actor and the core of his character is sympathetic, but I’m not going to lie.  I wasn’t super enthused when he was the one that rescued Connie because I didn’t know how their scenes would play out. But there’s a nice synergy there.  

Okay.  Does Carver want Leah for himself?  Because I’m sure Daryl at this point would love to scream “take her, I know where I fucking belong!”  

Daryl’s digging in deep because Carver has shown him Leah’s potential weak spot.  Nuance is truly lost on some people, LMAO.  He cares about Leah as a human being probably.  He’s Daryl, after all.  The sweet one.  But he sees her as his way outta this and he’s going to exploit it.  

It’s nice to have a silent Negan for once, lol.  I can pretend he didn’t take my baby Glenn away from me and enjoy JDM’s pretty.  

So.  These cannibal people were the watchers?  Hmm.  

I’m really digging Virgil 2.0.  Yeah.  Nobody’s surprised more than me.  

Sweet, sweet scene between Virgil and Connie.  His determination to reunite her with her family brings back the sympathy I felt for him when he told Michonne “I promised her flowers.  Every day.”  

Damn.  How many of those creepy crawly cannibals are there?  

How brave of Connie to confront her fears to save someone she’s obviously grown to care about.  

The Kelly/Connie reunion gave me chills and made me cry.  Thank fuck Angela didn’t cheapen that moment by having it focus on literally anybody else.  Kelly is the most important person in the whole world to Connie and vice versa.  Just like Carol is the most important person in the whole world to Daryl and vice versa.  Angela fucking knows.  Everybody does.  Except the people busy building castles out of sand while the waves of Carol’s and Daryl’s converging stories keep crashing closer and closer to shore.  

Such a beautiful moment given to us by Angel Theory and Lauren Ridloff.  So authentic and sweet.  Kelly and Connie are home to each other.  

Poor Frost.  That’s all I gotta say about that.  

WTF, though.  Was Mel just not available or what?  I want to see more of the ASZ characters that I care about, not the Reapers.  Like I’d be fine with the story if all the characters not named Maggie, Negan, or Daryl weren’t surviving on crumbs during it.  Especially the 2nd billed actress on the entire show.  Angela.  Please.  Fix this.  

One last WTF.  Seriously.  WTF has Maggie done to inspire Pope’s obsession?  It better be juicy after all this shit.  

Overall impression of the episode--

One of my favorites of the season so far.  The horror aspects were fantastic, IMHO. I truly didn’t expect to like Connie and Virgil’s scenes as much together so that was a nice surprise.  She got the reunion that felt most true and earned for the character and her story and I thank Angela from the bottom of my heart for that.  

I would have loved more Carol but I always want more Carol.  I’m okay with her taking a backseat because ultimately?  This was Kelly’s moment with her sister.  Carol and Connie will eventually have their time to sit down and talk.  And pick back up their blossoming friendship because I truly do not feel Connie blames Carol at all.  

I do wish Lydia had been included with the girl group.  Last episode felt like it was leading up to that.  

The Reaper storyline continues to be the weakest link because every time we see them the dialogue and interactions feel totally recycled from the time previous.  I feel like it would have totally been helped by a tighter focus and less stretching out because 8 episodes of this is really diluting what I feel like Angela and Co. are going for.  I’m not here for Leah being redeemed or being a bigger focus in any of the episodes because she does nothing of interest for me.  I’m just peeking in on that story for the Daryl of it all.  

Speaking of the Daryl? You lovelies out there gotta stop taking that spoiler source’s recaps at face value because it’s obvious to me at least that there’ some bias at work.  Every action and word coming from Daryl is coming from a place of loyalty to his family and wanting to protect them, no matter how he has to dirty his hands.  Leah is just a means to his ultimate end.  She’s not his future.  She never was.  His future’s already spoken for and 2023 can’t get  here soon enough.  But like Daryl, we have to just survive somehow.  

Oh goodie.  More Maggie and Negan next episode and looks like no real follow up on Connie and the ASZ reunions.  Hopefully, this is yet another instance of the previews being deceiving but I’m not holding my breath.  

Until later, lovelies.  

Hope my word vomit didn’t bore you too much.  

[locktobre]

Ok one more thing about PCS that will FOREVER make my brain hurt from thinking about it too much is HOW was Sophia like,, not in the accident? In fact, if the crash was even investigated, how did they see that oh, hey, the baby isn't the car! Like?? Why did they assume she was dead if she wasn't in the crash? It hurts my brain I can't even explain it. BARBIE EXPLAIN PLEASE.

Oh, believe you me I’ve thought about THAT a lot! It’s probably the thing in barbie I’ve analyzed the MOST. So let’s dive in!

It’s going to get morbid, but I mean, there’s no way it won’t given the situation we’re talking about. Also, length again, sorry.

I actually believe that baby Sophia was in the car. I think it’s the only thing that makes sense. I go back and forth on what her body not being there meant--it could be that the car was too burnt up for anyone to be recognizable, so they thought maybe they just missed her in the wreckage. (She was only 1 after all, she’d be quite small.) Or they knew her body wasn’t there, but they might have thought she got thrown from the car, or otherwise got out somehow... and then, being a small baby out in the wilderness, she died of exposure. I picture the crash happening somewhere rather remote, not in the city proper, so they were basically out in the woods. It would be reasonable to assume that she died if she was not at the crash site, even without her body being there, bc again, she was just a baby. I have her as 14 months old, which means she’d probably barely be able to walk at that point.

Of course, there is a conspiracy theory around the crash. They say vaguely in the beginning that maybe the whole family didn’t die in the accident, without really namedropping Sophia specifically until they see her portrait... so it’s possible (even probable) that there are multiple theories about it. But Sophia’s body being missing or otherwise unaccounted for would probably do a lot to keep that one circulating.

On that note, the novelization has this to say:

According to another rumor in the kingdom, some of Queen Isabella’s family members were still alive. Some thought these family members were kept as prisoners in the palace dungeons.

It’s vague again, but it has the added detail of thinking they’re in the dungeon. It also says “some of,” again not singling out Sophia specifically, which is interesting. That could have some basis in the reality of the crash, or it could just be 18 years of conspiracy theories. That’s something I try to keep very much in mind--even though it’s basically true, in that Sophia is obviously still alive, it’s not the actual truth. So her missing body could have easily spurred the initial theory that she survived, and that became a theory that multiple ppl involved didn’t actually die, and so on.

This is where it comes back to Miss Martha Willows, for me. Bc if Sophia’s body was obviously missing from the crash (and not unrecognizably burnt, as per my other theory)... they would have been looking for her. They would have searched the woods, any nearby houses, any place that a baby could conceivably be. They would talk to anyone around, there would probably be some kind of reward set up, they would want any and all information about where the lost princess could be. So.. why, exactly, wouldn’t Martha come forward and say “Hey, I found this baby on my doorstep, I live close by, this is probably the baby you’re looking for.” Like, is that even the real story?

Also in the novelization, after Hadley speculates that maybe baby Sophia was found and left on a doorstep, Delancy thinks:

Could someone have really left a baby on a stranger’s doorstep? And could i have been my very own mother?

And I don’t believe that at all, not for one second, as I said in a post last year. If Dame Devin (Regina) went through all the trouble of killing her own brother, I don’t think she’d spare a baby. If only bc doing so means that events like the movie could happen--having Sophia out there would mean a loose end. It would mean that Sophia could figure out who she was and come back at any time. Which is... exactly what happened.

Now, since Regina was left as Delancy’s regent after the crash, I presume she had some influence over the investigation. It’s entirely possible that she would want it shut quickly, so there would be less of a chance that anyone could find evidence of her involvement... But Sophia’s missing body would still be a loose end. She could easily play up being the grieving aunt hoping to find her baby niece still alive, while in actuality she was just trying to make sure that nothing was going to come back to haunt her. I think that fits her personality the best.

Regina and Martha working together in some capacity, with Martha perhaps being paid off to adopt Sophia... might explain how Sophia came to Martha in the first place, but I just don’t think it makes sense. Regina’s too meticulous. She got away with murder for 18 years, and she would have kept getting away with it if she hadn’t literally confessed on live tv. At no point does anyone point a finger at her; everyone always refers to it as an accident. Even when Hadley is pushing the theory that Blair is baby Sophia, Isla only thinks that Delancy and Regina know who Blair is and that’s why they mistreat her. And she’s half right about that, since that is what’s happening on Regina’s side. (I’ve pointed it out before, but singling Blair out like she did was SO stupid of her, since it’s literally one of the things that points them to the theory of Blair being Sophia!)

Also, I’ll say it again: Regina literally murdered her own brother--her twin brother, in my headcanon. (Hence the similar names. It’s also funny bc it means ‘queen.’ But I really needed them to be twins for their ages to work out correctly.) And the only reason we’re given for any sort of conflict between them (really, between her and Isabella) is that Regina was passed over for a lady royal position. I’ve headcanoned a little more depth to it than that, but the woman is clearly crazy. Like. She’s nuts. If her own brother meant nothing to her--at least, not enough to not murder him--then she is capable of anything. Including murdering a little baby. (Or, trying to.) There’s no way around that.

Anyway, that’s a whole tangent, but back on topic: Yes, I think Sophia was in the car. How she got out of the car and into Martha’s care is a matter of considerable debate, but she had to be in there, otherwise nothing else makes sense. And it makes sense to me that she would be considered dead after long enough passed with no one finding her body and no one coming forward to say they had her safe. She was a tiny, helpless baby, so it’s the only logical conclusion. Ppl would want her to be alive, of course, and enough of a fuss was made that a conspiracy theory sprung up about her survival... But without any evidence to support it, they’d really have no choice but to close the book on it and move on.

[annablack1102]

Shades of Autumn

Summary: Miranda convinces a very reluctant Negan to have some fall family fun to cheer up her cousin Sophia. 

Characters: Negan X OC , Sophia  Warnings: language, fluffy goodness Beta: my very wonderful @sarcasticrose18  A/N: This started as a request by my dear friend @scarletthart96 and turned into something more. This will be a preview to the next chapter fic that I’m working on where Sophia ends up living with her cousin, Miranda, after losing her mother, Carol. This is just a cute little one shot that is already spiraling so I hope you like it. 

Masterlist

Shades of Autumn 

“What? Fuck no.” Negan made a face at Miranda’s suggestion, not looking up from the vegetables he was chopping for whatever the fuck he was planning on making for dinner. Miranda had gotten used to not asking because he wouldn’t tell her anyways. His answer was always ‘just trust me’. And if she were being honest, she did. He was an amazing cook. Which was probably the only thing Sophia liked about him, considering she was used to Miranda’s cooking that left a lot to be desired.

“Seriously? It won’t be that bad. I’m not asking you to go square dancing or something ridiculous. Just...pumpkin patches and hayrides. You know, fall stuff.” Miranda said, watching as he met her gaze with a scowl.

“Okay, first of all I would rock square dancing. Second of all… why? Can’t we just watch a couple scary movies and call it a day?” He asked, going back to what he was cooking. Miranda scrunched her nose, trying again to figure out what it was before shaking her head.

She’d just casually mentioned wanting to do some fall activities with her fifteen year old cousin Sophia, whom she had gained guardianship of a year ago. They’d recently moved in with Negan, Miranda’s new boyfriend who just so happened to be Sophia’s softball coach and high school gym teacher. To say Sophia wasn’t handling it well would be an understatement. Sure she’d given her blessing and agreed to move in but she wasn’t all that thrilled about it. Her and Negan butted heads constantly and Miranda was just trying to get them to bond however she could.

“It would mean a lot to her. She used to do this kind of shit with her mom and me all the time and if you made an effort--”

“God damn it, I hate when you use the dead mom card.” Negan groaned and turned to look at her. “Fine. Fucking fine. We’ll do your little bullshit fall family shit. But don’t go overboard.” He said and Miranda grinned, stepping on her toes to kiss him. He wrapped his free arm around her, rolling his eyes, and continued cooking. “If you weren’t so fucking cute…” He grumbled to himself, his hand sliding down to squeeze her ass and she laughed.

She’d never admit it but when Miranda told her what she had planned, Sophia’s eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. Their favorite holiday had always been Halloween so they may have planned a bit more together than they probably should have. Considering Miranda did promise Negan she wouldn’t go overboard. She decided she just wouldn’t drop it all on him at once. He still complained as he drove them to the pumpkin patch a whole town over, adjusting the red scarf he wore around his neck.

“You know there’s a fucking pumpkin patch like five minutes from the house, right? Why do we have to go to this specific one?” Negan griped, fiddling with the radio again.

“Because this one’s nicer.” Miranda said as if it were obvious. He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, finding them a parking spot.

“C’mon Scraps,” Negan said, using the nickname he’d given Sophia ages ago after she got in a fight with another girl at school and came out on top. “Let’s pick us out a good one. I assume we’re gonna be carving these fuckers.” He said, huffing an ‘oof’ as Miranda elbowed him. He of course never noticed the dirty looks from the parents when he opened his big mouth but she did. And there were plenty of kids here.

Sophia sighed and walked ahead of them, taking her sweet time finding the perfect pumpkin. In his defense, he only complained a couple times when she was overly picky about the pumpkin she wanted. “It’s just gonna rot in like a week anyways. What does it matter?” He’d said and she made a face at him and kept looking. They picked out a couple that met her standards and he paid for them. He started walking back to the car when he realized they hadn’t followed. “What?” He asked, turning around to see them looking at a sign.

“I mean… I did say something about hayrides.” Miranda said, smirking over at her man. He stared at her for a minute, trying to decide if she was being serious. When he realized she absolutely was, he sighed.

“Fine. One ride.” He agreed and went to pay for that as well.

“Why’s he gotta be such a grouch?” Sophia asked and Miranda snickered.

“Don’t mind him. He’s just gotta get into the holiday spirit. He’ll come around.” She assured her and wrapped an arm around Sophia’s shoulders, leading her over to the hayride. Negan took his spot, his pumpkin sitting at his feet, with Miranda beside him and Sophia across from them. He ignored the other family that joined them and laced his fingers with Miranda’s without even thinking about it. He didn’t miss the way Sophia rolled her eyes though and he smirked at her.

“What’s a matter, Scrappy?” He teased, throwing a handful of hay at her.

“Asshole!” Sophia gasped, brushing it out of her hair before throwing some at him as he laughed. She cheered as it got in his mouth and he sputtered it out.

“Come on guys…” Miranda sighed, giving the mom of the two boys a sympathetic look for her cousin’s language. They didn’t listen to her though and spent the rest of the ride tossing hay at each other. At least Sophia was finally having a good time.

It was almost worth the annoyed looks from the mom as her boys joined in.

Later that night they set to carving the pumpkins, something Negan apparently took very seriously. “Hey, no! Don’t throw those out.” He complained as Sophia scooped a bunch of the goop out.

“What? Why? What are you supposed to do with it?” She asked Negan, looking at him like he was crazy.

“No, the seeds. Keep the seeds. We’ll roast them later.” He said and started helping her pick them out of her pumpkin mess. Miranda sneakily took pictures of them as Negan helped her draw a scary face on her pumpkin, laughing at the way his tongue poked out in concentration.

“No, he needs more teeth!” Sophia demanded and Negan scoffed.

“He? I didn’t know pumpkins had genitals. Should I give him a dick too?” He asked, getting an elbow to the ribs from Sophia. He merely grinned and added more teeth. He watched protectively as she carved the little blade through the pumpkin for a minute before moving onto his own, turning his gaze to his favorite girl with a warm smile as he decided this wasn’t so bad after all.

A few days later, it was Miranda’s turn to say no.

“Hey, we did you’re fall shit, now it’s my turn.” Negan said over dinner that night.

“Yeah but...a haunted house?” Miranda made a face but Sophia chimed in.

“Yeah, we should go. It’d be cool.” She said, picking up her phone to look up times. She only managed to unlock it before Negan was snatching it out of her hands wordlessly. She sighed, remembering he didn’t like her on the phone at dinner. It was one of the few rules he had in his house that she’d agreed to so long as she could call him Negan instead of Coach.

“Wait, you two actually agree on something?” Miranda asked, her eyes darting between the two of them. She sighed in defeat, not wanting to ruin the moment. It was so rare that they ever were on the same side of things, mostly due to Sophia’s insane need to disagree with everything he said like the good little angsty teen she was. “Fine. We’ll go. But I’m gonna hate both of you for this.”

She watched in amazement as they actually high fived their victory.

They went after dinner that Friday night, all bundled against the cold. Negan didn’t even complain about the half an hour drive out to what he claimed was the best haunted house in the area. Miranda tried to pretend like she was okay but she was nervous about the whole thing. She despised jump scares and that’s ninety percent of the whole haunted house experience. But it was for them and she would endure it.

It wasn’t long before she was clinging to Negan’s arm though, hiding her face against the leather he wore. He of course found that hilarious and goaded Sophia into teasing her too.

“Are you really scared? This is awesome!” Sophia grinned, her eyes lighting up with excitement over all the strategically placed props and monsters. She jumped occasionally but it was usually followed by bubbling laughter as she held Negan’s other arm. She would argue because it was dark and hard to maneuver. Not because she was scared or anything.

“Yeah, seriously Miranda. This ain’t that fuckin’ scary.” Negan laughed. His laughter was cut short, however, as a chainsaw was started up beside them suddenly and he nearly pissed himself as he tugged the girls away. Then they were laughing again.

“God, I hate you guys.” Miranda groaned, her death grip on Negan’s arm only getting worse. They made it through eventually and Miranda breathed a sigh of relief as the fresh, cold air hit them again. She turned to see Negan and Sophia laughing together, gushing over all the shit they’d seen inside.

“Did you see the zombies though? I think that one chick literally didn’t have an arm.” Negan grinned down at the girl.

“Yeah! I saw that. I mean, what a way to make use of an amputation.” Sophia chuckled, practically skipping to the car. “I wanna do my makeup like the girl in the nurse’s outfit. Do you think I could get away with that at school?” She asked, holding a hand up to her neck as she recalled the blood dripping down the nurse girl.

Negan snorted. “Probably not but it’d be pretty badass. Too bad you’re too old for trick or treating.” He grinned and she frowned. “Maybe we could have a Halloween party or something. Something small.” He suggested with a shrug and she lit up.

“Seriously?” She grinned, bouncing in excitement. They spent the entire drive home talking about the gruesome decorations they could put up inside and outside the house. Sophia didn’t even care that she’d be inviting all her friends over to their teacher’s place or think about how weird it might be.

Miranda was so happy they were getting along that she felt the whole terrifying experience was worth it. Even if she hated every second of it herself.

The next night, Negan came home from the store with a lot more groceries than he’d gone in for.

“Did you shop on an empty stomach again?” Miranda sighed, starting to put things away and he chuckled. Last time he came back with way too many snacks.

“You say that like you didn’t indulge yourself and eat half my snack cakes.” Negan teased with a smirk and she shrugged, unashamed. “I walked by the bakery and they had pumpkin pies, which by the way are my favorite. I was gonna get one but homemade is always better.” He said, looking up at her. “I thought maybe I could teach Soph how to bake one.” He added with a shrug, a shred of vulnerability in his eyes that he tried to hide as he put things away.

Miranda blinked, trying not to tear up at how sweet that was. “Yeah, I’m sure she’ll love that.” She said and kissed his cheek.

“You, however, are staying the fuck out of my kitchen.” He said with a smirk and she stuck her tongue out at him.

She didn’t stay out, however, when he had all the ingredients spread out before them. Instead she took pictures with her phone while they were too busy to notice, capturing the serious look of concentration on Sophia’s face as Negan told her what to do.

They did the whole thing from scratch, the crust and all. And of course it was only a matter of time before Negan dotted Sophia’s cheeks with flour. What was surprising, however, was how Sophia just laughed it off and flicked specks of it over his black shirt. Thankfully they didn’t get in a full fledged flour fight that she would have inevitably had to clean up later because frankly they were both slobs. Instead they got back to it and Sophia was the perfect little helper, eating up everything Negan said. It was so unlike any interaction they ever had with each other that Miranda just watched in awe, sending a couple pictures of them to her parents.

The pie, of course, came out amazing. She was surprised they didn’t eat the whole thing right away.

They ended up curled up on the couch with Negan’s next brilliant idea while they ate. “Hey I did say scary movie night, did I not?” He argued when Miranda pouted.

“You know, my ideas for fall fun were way more tame than yours.” She said but allowed it anyways, snuggling into Negan’s side. Sophia was so excited that she didn’t even roll her eyes or comment on the public display of affection like she normally would.

“My mom never let me watch these. I used to have to sneak them over at Enid’s house.” She said, popping the first movie into the blu-ray player.

“Well we’re gonna have to change that. There’s a long list of classic horror flicks we’ve gotta work through.” Negan said, ignoring Miranda’s groan.

“Make sure you do that on nights I have to work, please.” She said and he smirked at her before beginning to scarf down his second slice of pie.

Miranda ended up falling asleep with her head in his lap while they stayed up until three in the morning watching scary movies, laughing at the gore together and making fun of the people and their poor decision making. She woke up to Negan carrying her to bed and tugging off her jeans.

“What time is it?” She muttered, burying her face in the pillow.

“Uhh… almost four?” Negan said sheepishly. “Guess it’s a good thing we don’t have school tomorrow.” He chuckled, climbing in beside her. She blindly scooted over until she was wrapped up in his arms. He kissed the top of her head. “Good night, baby. Hope you don’t have any nightmares.” He teased with a grin.

“Fuck you, Negan.”

A few days later, Sophia came home with a grocery bag herself after spending the day at Enid’s. Negan raised an eyebrow at it, looking up at her.

“What’s in the bag?” He asked skeptically. He took some satisfaction in the way her pale, freckled cheeks turned red as he waited for an explanation.

“Well I umm… I was thinking we could make some good use out of the fire pit out back…?” She suggested, pulling out a bag of marshmallows. Negan couldn’t stop the grin on his face if he tried.

“Fuck yeah, that may be the best idea you’ve ever had.” He teased and got up to get a fire going outside.

“After dinner.” Miranda declared, not even looking up from the book she was reading. Negan pouted.

“Buzzkill.” He grumbled, going to the kitchen instead to cook dinner for them. When it was nice and dark, not to mention chilly, outside, he went out and set it all up. They had a few folding chairs that they set up around the fire and huddled in close to the warmth. It was just cold enough at night but not too much that they were freezing their asses off. “No way Scraps. You want it to be cooked. Nice and brown.” Negan instructed.

“That’s not brown, that’s black. You burnt yours.”

“God damn it.” Negan snapped, realizing she was right. He ate it anyways, nearly burning the inside of his mouth.

“You’re such a mess.” Miranda laughed, seeing the sticky marshmallow caught in his whiskers. She leaned forward, wiping it with her thumb. Of course, he couldn’t help himself even with present company.

“Why don’t you just lick it off, baby?” He said with a smirk.

“Ugh! You’re so gross!” Sophia pretended to gag and threw a marshmallow at him.

“Hey!” Negan complained as it hit the ground. “Don’t be wasteful, Scrappy! If you’re gonna throw them, I better be able to catch it.” He said, tossing one into his mouth. She rolled her eyes and threw another one, this time waiting until he was ready for it. That turned into a competition between the two of them and him teaching her how to properly aim with a marshmallow, stating that “It’s not a fuckin’ softball, Scraps.”

Miranda had to stash a bag of marshmallows on the side so she could eat some for herself.

They did indeed have a Halloween party like Negan promised. Miranda didn’t think he’d be able to get it all set up in time with so little time to plan ahead but he managed. She found that when he was determined he could actually get a lot done. And he was pretty handy.

Plus she had a sneaking suspicion that he really wanted to make Sophia happy and that just made her heart swell.

The house looked great and he let Sophia pick the music, despite his annoyance in her taste. But then she called him old and he threw a pillow at her and Miranda had to separate them again. She helped Sophia with her costume, looking up videos on how to make the creepy throat-slit makeup she wanted so badly. They settled on a dead rock star instead though because Miranda didn’t like the length of the nurse costumes she found.

She and Negan stayed for the party. They’d originally promised to stay out of the way while still keeping an eye on things but the kids kept trying to get Negan to join in on the festivities. He ended up out back with them playing cornhole and teasing the kids for not being as good as him. Sophia didn’t even seem to mind, kind of proud that he blended so well with her friends rather than trying to embarrass her.

“This is going well.” Miranda said as he came back in to make more of the creepy slime colored punch, taste testing it for the thousandth time to make sure no little asshole tried to spike it.

“Yeah. It ain’t that bad.” He said, his eyes sweeping the room again from the kitchen. Miranda thought he was making sure the kids were behaving themselves but then his hand was on her ass, up under the skirts of her dress. “And you look sexy as fuck tonight, did I mention that?” He smirked at her, giving it a squeeze.

“A few times.” She said with a chuckle and pushed his hand away.

“Maybe you could leave the costume on later.” He grinned at her, leaning against the counter.

“You want the fangs too?” She smirked, as if she hadn’t already taken them off earlier. They were more uncomfortable than she thought they’d be.

“Fuck yeah I do.” Negan gave her a quick kiss, swatting her ass as he left the kitchen. He went out back to throw more firewood in the pit but stopped in his tracks, his blood boiling.

It was a strange feeling, something he never encountered before. The closest emotion that he could think of was jealousy but he knew that wasn’t it. No this was something deeper. A kind of anger that he knew he had no right to feel but as he watched Benjamin awkwardly put his arm around Sophia’s shoulders, he saw red.

“You okay?” Miranda asked him, stepping up beside him. He tore his gaze away to scowl at Miranda.

“How long’s that been going on?” He demanded.

“What are you--oh! Well isn’t that cute?” Miranda chuckled as she realized what he’d been looking at.

“Cute? The fuck? That’s not cute. I have half a mind to go beat that kid’s ass.” Negan growled.

“What? No, this is a good thing. Sophia’s been crushing on him for weeks. We’re happy for her.” Miranda tried to reason with him but he wasn’t having it. “What’s wrong? Why are you so upset?”

“Because that boy has his hands on my girl, that’s why.” Negan snapped, mindful enough to keep his voice down.

“Your girl?” Miranda looked at him in surprise, her heart exploding. “Okay, dad, calm down.” She chuckled and took his hand, resisting the urge to smother him. She was dying to know how long he’d seen Sophia like a daughter.

“Whatever. I’m gonna have a talk with that boy.” He decided, fully intending on scaring him off.

“Later.” Miranda squeezed his hand, stopping him from stomping over there and embarrassing Sophia. “Another day. You don’t wanna ruin her party.”

Negan sighed, knowing she was right. Sophia would be so pissed at him if he called out Ben in front of everyone. “Alright, fine. But I’m keeping an eye on them.”

Miranda beamed and hugged him tight, kissing his cheek. She was so in love with this man.

(updated my taglist. If you want on/off let me know)

@alyisdead @ask-kakashihatake @badluckgirl @band--psycho @beautyqueenforbes @blackleatherjacketz @bubbajeffrey @collette04 @daisysouthmoore  @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @genevievedarcygranger @hanaissupergirl   @i-am-negan-trash  @imstonecoldnegan @its-moonblr  @jessiellong1987 @judymosali @kalifornia-born @kayodex19 @letsby @lilantisocialextrovert @lolalexturnerlol  @londoncapsule @lostdarksoul6  @mely010  @mypopurribitch @ne-gans  @negansdirtygirl22   @negans-wife  @negan-the-cat  @negans-network  @prettyepiic @rose8801 @sarcasticrose18 @scarletthart96 @star017 @suddenlycrushed @teamnegansaviors @toxic-ink  @warriorqueen1991 @witchofravenclaw

[shimmershae]

What the Water Gave Me (a Walking Dead One Shot, Caryl).

Inspired by this dialogue prompt:  "We're going to freeze to death." 

What the Water Gave Me

      Inspired by this dialogue prompt:  “We’re going to freeze to death.” 

      Carol and Daryl

     It’s bitter, bone-achingly cold outside, so cold her breath puffs from her mouth in little gauzy clouds, like smoke, and Carol smiles grimly at the thought because she’d gladly give her left arm for a nice cozy fire right now.  Throw in a couple of fuzzy blankets and a steaming mug of hot chocolate, and well.  She’s enough of a burden to Daryl and the others already.  No sense satisfying her selfish desires, even if only in her fantasies, so she focuses on moving her feet forward, always forward.  Heel-toe, heel-toe like he’d taught her, but the ground is hard, not quite frozen but close enough, and it’s a hopeless cause to keep quiet.  The crunch of her boots on the fallen forest leaves and twigs seems to echo with each step, and she wonders anew why he’d chosen her to accompany him on this scouting trek when T, Glenn, even Maggie would have been a better, more able-bodied choice.  She opens her mouth to ask him just that when he holds up a staying, silent hand in front of her, tilts his head. 

  Gradually, Daryl’s shoulders relax, and he glances back at her, his steely gaze taking on a hopeful glint.  “Hear that?” 

  Carol hears only her heart, thudding between her ears.  The wheezing pant of her lungs, whistling from her parted mouth.  The rustle of the frigid breeze, stirring through the few leaves that cling desperately to the trees and making them dance.  Nothing out of the ordinary.  Nothing that brings a smile to her mouth, and so, she frowns and shakes her head slowly, reluctant to disappoint him.  “No.” 

  Releasing a frustrated huff, Daryl steps closer to her, his crossbow bouncing lightly against his back.  “You ain’t listenin’.” 

  Indignation swells within her chest, tall as any tidal wave, and she straightens her shoulders, twists her mouth in denial.  “I am.” 

  “No,” Daryl insists.  “You ain’t.” 

  His words swirl between them, just as restless and agitated in movement as they are in tone, and Carol sighs, says again.  “Daryl, I am.”  Her eyes are drawn to his feet, his weight shuffling from one to the other.  The twitch of his fingers on the strap of his crossbow as he shirks it from his shoulder, lets it rest lightly against the nearest tree’s gnarled trunk.  “Daryl, I…” 

  “Close your eyes.” 

  Feeling a bit foolish, she nevertheless gives in to his demand, her lashes fluttering lightly against her cheeks and her heartbeat regaining momentum, growing more erratic.  She knows she’s vulnerable in this position, exposed.  She trusts Daryl, more than she trusts any other member of their group, and yet...

  “Jesus, Woman.  M’right here.  Breathe.” 

  Carol feels him step closer, and his boots nudge against her own.  She shivers, but it’s not from the cold, not entirely, and she breathes.  Listens and finally hears it.  Faint at first, just a quiet burble, it grows more distinct as the seconds pass, and her pale fingers clutch at his threadbare sleeve.  Her eyes open, and they smile at him, reflect his growing hope.  “Water.” 

  “Water.” 

    ❤❤❤

    She follows in Daryl’s wake, up a slight hill, the toes of her boots snagging in tree roots and making her stumble.  Through a small clearing, the sky gray overhead and the dead grass snarled underfoot, her trembling hand never straying far from the unwieldy knife at her belt as her blue eyes keep careful watch.  Down, down, down a steep ravine, where the burble has become a rush, a steady onward flow over rocks and around fallen trees.  Clear and clean, at least to her untrained eye, the winding creek is a welcome sight, and she looks to Daryl, only to find his gaze drawn elsewhere.  Some far-off point amongst the trees.  “Daryl?” she softly presses when the moment draws long. 

  Still, his eyes stay trained ahead.  His shoulders sharp and unmovable.  His feet planted wide.

  His whole posture is rigid, like an animal spooked by the smallest of noises, the most miniscule of movements, but he shakes it off when Carol murmurs his name again, looks down at her with eyes that have taken on the hue of the winter sky when she brings them shoulder to shoulder.  “What is it?  You see something?”  She follows his line of vision but sees nothing except a wall of trees, tall and skeletal, their spindly arms seemingly linked in a fencelike chain.  The sight makes her shiver, from her head down to her toes.  She plays it off, though.  Blames it on the chill, and it is cold, exceedingly so in the shadowed ravine.  Upon closer inspection, a thin sheen of ice skims the stream’s shallower depths, and her thoughts drift to Carl, to Beth, to Lori, and she worries because a mother doesn’t just shut off those protective feelings.  They’re engrained, deep in her DNA, and Carol knows she’ll die with them.  But those are thoughts too heavy, too much of a distraction for this excursion she’s found herself on with Daryl, and she allows her fingers to skate lightly across the back of his hand.  That tiny touch is all that is needed to pull him back to the present, to her.

  “Naw.” 

  He’s not very convincing, and it must show on her face, because he brings his thumb to his mouth, gnaws it in consideration.  Shrugs in indecision when she raises her brows in question. 

  “Maybe,” he concedes.  “M’not sure."

  It doesn’t escape her notice, how his hand hovers over the strap of his crossbow.  How he crouches, brushes at the crumbling leaves at their feet, traces his fingers over the damp earth there.  Squints in the same direction as before.  “Daryl?”

  “Get to work,” he deflects her concern.  “Losing light.  Ain’t got all day.” 

  Carol shrugs her pack off of her shoulders, digs through its meager contents to recover the plastic bottles, ever-present these days and always in need of replenishment.  She doesn’t feel the hoped-for relief.  Doesn’t comment on it either because Daryl’s right, even if she gets the feeling he’s not being completely honest with her.  They’re losing light. 

    ❤ ❤ ❤

      The deer is a distraction.  With its flicking ears, its gentle, haunted gaze, it draws them in.  Draws them onward. 

  Carol doesn’t dare to breathe, doesn’t dare to talk either, and so, her scream is frozen in her throat when the Walker surprises her.  Stumbles from the cover of the trees with its jaws snapping, its mangled arms reaching.  Always reaching. 

  Daryl is several feet ahead, his focus entirely on the animal. 

  He’s too far away to help anyway, and Carol’s fingers are panicked as they fumble for her knife, clumsy with cold and overwhelming fear.  She thinks of Sophia lost in a forest not much different than this one, not all that long ago.  Wonders if she felt the same icy curl of terror constrict tighter and tighter around her heart, make breathing something impossible, screaming silent.  Salt tears catch on her lips as she scrambles backward, feels the raw bite of the water sink into her bones as it splashes around her ankles, then her thighs, wicks up her worn clothes.  It’s the pain, too close to the surface, that shackles her wrists, rends her fingers useless at fending off the dead creature’s advance.  Submerged as she is, nearly waist deep, her blood rapidly cools in her veins, and her muscles grow weak, quiver.  Still, she scrambles, her feet slipping and sliding on the slick rock bed until they lose purchase, and she falls back, her mouth still open on that silent scream.  She falls back and she goes under, under until her fingers feel rocks and mud and silt beneath their clawing nails.  Under until that cold, clear water seems to seep into every cell in her weary, aching body.  Under until everything blurs, and then there is just…nothing. 

    ❤ ❤ ❤

    Hands grab her at her shoulders, suddenly and without gentleness.  They pull and they claw and they gather her close, won’t let go, even when she sputters out a feeble protest.  She fights, she tries, but everything feels so heavy.  Her arms, her legs, her heart.  She tries, she does, but eventually she just…stops. 

  Everything is gray. 

  The sky between her heavy, drifting eyelids.  The water that surrounds her.  Her skin, and Carol wonders.  Is she one of them now?  Is this what Jim felt like?  When he finally gave up the fight?  When he followed the call of his lost family?  Left this Hell on Earth behind?  Is this how her baby...l

  Everything is gray. 

  She thought there’d be light, bright as the sun but it wouldn’t hurt her eyes.  She thought there’d be peace, not pain.  Not this utter heaviness that drags her down.  She thought there’d be warmth, but there is only cold.  So much bitter, heart stuttering cold, she should be numb, but she’s not.  She’s not, and she doesn’t understand.  She can’t make sense of it no matter how hard she tries. 

  Everything is gray. 

  And Carol?  She just…stops. 

    ❤ ❤ ❤

    Carol’s chest hurts. 

  Hands still press into her skin.  Heavy and rough, they linger. 

  Her chest hurts.  That’s all she knows.  That’s all she feels beyond the hands that still hover.  Her chest hurts, and she’s felt this pain before.  Couldn’t breathe deep for months.  Couldn’t escape the dull pain or the memories of Ed’s rage.  Had to relive it with every pull of air in and out of her lungs, just like he wanted her to, and the pained moan crawls out of her parted mouth without her consent.  The tears pool and slip into her hair, and those hands?  They gentle. 

  “That’s it.  That’s it, Woman.  Just breathe.  Just fuckin’ breathe.” 

  Carol coughs, and the simple act sets fire to her frozen bones.  She groans.  Coughs again, turns her head to spit out a trickle of creek water, and those gentle, calloused hands cup her neck afterward, draw her upward.  Draw her into the shelter of his trembling arms, and she rests her weary head against his shoulder, so broad and so strong.  Clings to the front of his shirt with nerveless fingers and whines.  “Cold.”

  Daryl barks out a laugh, harsh and holding an edge of hysteria.  “No, shit.  Damn deer got away.  Turned back just in time to see you go under, that dead fuck right behind you.  Don’t know what kind of guardian angel you got watchin’ over you.  Just know it kept you safe long enough for me to fish you out.  Then you wasn’t breathing.  Couldn’t feel a pulse, and shit.  Goddamn lucky is what you are.”

  It’s the most words she’s ever heard him speak.  They just come tumbling out, one after another after another, and it speaks to the seriousness of the situation that he’s still holding her, tight and secure in his arms.  If she weren’t so tired, she might tease him about.  But she is.  She feels heavy, exhausted, and she knows they’re not going to make it back to camp.  Not like this and not any time soon.  He must know.  He has to. “Daryl?” she slurs.   

  “Shh.  Hold on.  I got you.” 

    ❤ ❤ ❤

    Sophia had a pet rabbit once.  Just for a few days.  The boss’s son was getting one, and Ed didn’t want to look bad so Sophia got one, too.  It was soft, nothing more than a ball of fluff.  Sweet, too.  Sophia loved that rabbit, fiercely, so naturally it had to go.  It had to suffer so her husband could punish her.  Carol still remembers that poor animal’s heart pounding, just running away from it as Ed’s cruel fingers tightened around its neck.  Daryl’s heart racing beneath her ear isn’t all that different.   

  “Gotta stay awake.  You hear me?  Don’t go to sleep.  Don’t you do it.” 

  They’re climbing.  Least she thinks so.  She can’t be too certain.  Low branches catch and pull at her sodden clothes.  Daryl pants harshly into her hair, holds her tight with arms strained but sure.  A couple of times, he must lose his footing, because they go down.  They stop, and something sharp digs into her skin, sudden and insistent enough to wake up her sluggish nerves. 

  “Shit.  Shit.  You gotta wake up.  You gotta.” 

    ❤ ❤ ❤

    She must be dreaming.  That’s the only logical explanation. 

  Daryl fingers still on her buttons, and his blue eyes snap to her face, linger.  Look unspeakably relieved.  “Thank fuck.” 

  “Wha…”  Her tongue feels thick, her blood slow like molasses in her veins.  Her hand bats at his, clumsy and uncoordinated, and her lips struggle to form a frown when he starts working the buttons free again, shoves the shirt from her quaking shoulders.  Too tired to fight him anyway, she gives up, slumps back and just watches him.  Canvasses their surroundings.  This time, she has a little better luck when she tries to speak, but she keeps it simple.  “Where?” 

  Daryl’s hands have moved to the button of her pants now.  “Some stiff’s old hunting cabin.” 

  She notices it then.  The telltale black blood flecked across the bridge of his nose, disappearing into the gaping vee of his shirt.  He must read the concern in her eyes, the latent disgust, because he grunts out something resembling a laugh. 

  “He’s out back.  Asshole stunk to high heaven.” 

  His lips quirk slyly at his own joke, and Carol feels some much needed warmth spark within the depths of her abused heart. 

  “Gonna help me out or I gotta do all the hard work, Woman?”  

  He’s teasing her.  Least she thinks he is.  She can’t really be sure because it’s so unlike him, but these aren’t their usual circumstances, and Carol figures she come closer to checking out than she’d originally realized because he touches her with gentleness, yes.  But it’s more than that.  It’s something wholly unfamiliar to her.  To him, too, if she’s read him right at all, and she aches with it.  “Been a while,” she finally manages. 

  His mouth loosens into a smile.  “Since somebody tried to get into your pants?” 

  With some effort, she lifts her hips.  The corners of her mouth twitch.  “Yeah.”  He lets something slip then, unbidden and unexpected.  She can tell by the blush slowly creeping over his pale cheeks. 

  “Ain’t the way I imagined it.” 

  “Yeah?” 

  “Yeah.” 

    ❤ ❤ ❤

    He finds a blanket, scratchy and smelling like old mothballs but it’s something.  Wraps it around her shoulders and sets about building a fire while she watches him.  He’s shivering, just like her.  She can see it all the way across the room.  His hands unsteady when he tends to the kindling from out back, and no wonder.  His clothes are just as soaked as hers were.  After his third attempt without success, she decides to return the favor.  Leach some of the burden from the set of his shoulders.  Tease him.  “We’re going…to…freeze…to death.” 

  “Ain’t gonna let that happen.” 

  He means it.  She knows he does.  Because he’s Daryl, and he’s a good man.  She trusts him, however much the sheer physical presence of a man like him would have terrified her before the Turn.  Gruff and bluntly spoken, sometimes to the point of discomfort, he’s still the best man she’s ever known, a man of honor, and she feels safe with him.  She trusts him, and she knows he’s going to see them through this.  But still....

  “Told you, Woman.  Ain’t gonna let that happen.” 

  “I know.” 

  “Hear you thinkin’.  All the way over here,” he grumbles. 

  His frown melts away, though, in the face of his rewarded efforts, and soon, a fire flickers to life.  Chases away the shadows, softens the stubborn set of his jaw as he turns to her, and she murmurs his name, holds up the edge of her blanket.  “I’m still cold.” 

  “You gonna close your eyes?” 

  Carol bites her lip, smiles.