We stood, bathed in the moonlight and the soft flicker of the dying fire. Lilly was in front of me, her forehead pressed on my chest, her arms hanging by her sides, stiff, like she didn't know what to do with them.
"You said you only wanted her and me," she said finally, her voice barely louder than the crackle of the cinders.
Did I?
Her head finally rose, her eyes meeting mine, but they weren't sharp like before, or angry, just… wounded like she had been expecting the disappointment.
"So what changed?" she asked, her voice trembling. "How come you get to have everything… and I can't have you all to myself?"
My jaw clenched firmly as I stared at her, before my arms slid around, holding her in a strong embrace, not out of guilt, or pity, neither of which I felt for anything in this world—but just because I wanted to.
Strange. I wouldn't have done this a month ago, have I really… changed?
"So this is what it was all about?" I murmured near her ear, letting out a soft chuckle, the breath of it warming the side of her face.
She leaned back slightly just enough to look at me. Her lips were turned down in a delicate pout, and her eyes, though no longer wet, held the sting of hurt.
"What was it all about?" she repeated my words, a little incredulous, slightly defensive. "I have feelings, you know."
"I know, I know," I said, resting my hand gently atop her head. My fingers threaded through her hair once, slow, as if calming an angry cat. "But that boy," I added in a quiet voice, "Only has one life."
A soft frown covered her face. "You know," she wrapped her arms around me, "You don't have to pretend with me, you might fool Carley with this saviour act of yours, but I know you more than her,"
She looked up at me, her chin resting on my chest, "and your little 'secret'." Her voice turned sharp, like she had an advantage in some game I wasn't a part of, or maybe I was, just not a player.
"I don't know what you're talking about." I shrugged my shoulders, then leaned in, pressing my lips against hers.
—Greene's Farm
The hallway outside Carl's room was dimly lit, shadows stretching up the wall from dim lamps. The only sound was the occasional thud of footsteps, the low murmur of voices, and Rick's ragged breathing.
He sat slumped against the wall, his back hunched, his elbows braced on his knees. Lori sat beside him, her hands folded in her lap, clenched so tightly her knuckles were pale. From behind the half-shut door came the soft clinking of metal and cloth—Beth and Hershel tending to Carl, again.
Rick's eyes stared at the floor, his mind running Hershel's words over and over again, like a loop with no end.
"If she doesn't get back with that man, they'll have to perform the surgery without the respirator." That's what Hershel had said.
But before they could lament those words any further, Rick blinked, his eyes flicked to Lori's, then to the door. And they quickly rushed inside, hearing a familiar voice coming from inside.
The door creaked open fully, and Rick and Lori froze for a moment, as their eyes landed on Carl lying still on the bed, skin pale and lips dry, but his eyes, his eyes were open, blinking at Hershel and Beth.
"Where are we?" He asked, confused and slightly agitated with his newfound surroundings.
Rick was at his side first, hands cradling the boy's face, like he was afraid he'd vanish if he let go of him.
"Hey, little man," he whispered, pressing a kiss to Carl's forehead. "You're alright, you're gonna be okay."
He glanced over his shoulder as Hershel olded a bloodied cloth behind them.
That's Hershel. He's a doctor," Rick said gently, then motioned toward the girl beside him, "and that's Beth, his daughter."
Beth offered a small smile so did Hershel. Rick turned back to Carl, "You had a little accident, alright, we're at their house, and they're gonna fix you right up." Rick said, as Carl blinked, taking everything in rather calmly for a 12-year-old.
Lori was there too now, tears falling freely as she cradled his arm, her hand brushing his wound.
Carl winced, "It hurts," and murmured, "A lot."
"I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so sorry," Lori whispered, pulling back slightly, afraid of causing more pain.
Then—
"Where is she?" Carl uttered, eyes barely focused.
"What?" Lori asked, leaning closer.
"Soph…" His voice trailed off. He didn't finish the name before his eyes rolled back and his body convulsed once, then again.
"Carl!" Rick shouted, panicking.
Lori reached to grab him, to shake him awake, but Hershel's voice cut through sharply, "Don't."
They turned toward him.
"It's a seizure," Hershel said, already moving forward. "If you shake him, you could make it worse."
"Oh god," Lori whispered, hands over her mouth.
Hershel bent over Carl, from the other side, checking his vitals, "His blood pressure's dropping. He's losing it fast. We need another transfusion."
Without hesitation, Rick stood from the bedside, his voice firm. "Okay, I'm ready."
Hershel glanced up, "Rick, if I take any more out of you, your body could shut down. You could fall into a coma, or worse—cardiac arrest."
Rick didn't blink. "You're wasting time."
***
In the kitchen, Shawn sat quietly at the dinner table, elbows resting on the wood, watching Sophia spoon the last of the soup into her mouth.
Her movements were fast but measured, like someone trying to savor each bite while still battling the instincts of starvation. He could tell she was hungry by the way her hands trembled slightly between spoonfuls, by how she barely looked up from the bowl. I wonder how many days she spent in the forest by herself. Shawn shook his head.
The girl he and Maggie had found in the woods looked like she was one of the sick ones, but now…
Now she looked alive again.
It seriously amazed him how much difference warm water and food could make. Her now untangled hair was brushed behind her ear, her cheeks were no longer hollow with terror, and the color in her skin was returning, faint but visible. She sat bundled in a borrowed sweater, from Beth, that dwarfed her small frame.
Shawn let out a soft chuckle under his breath, the sound more wistful than amused, 'A walker cured of its curse' that's what she looked like.
He glanced toward the window. A soft night had crept across the farm, turning the land into shadows. His gaze lingered out there for a moment longer.
Where are you, Maggie?
Before he could finish worrying about his sister, a pair of headlights flashed beyond the fences, cutting through the night like a sunrise.
He stood up fast, pushing back with a scrape of wood on tile, and quickly made his way to the door. Sophia turned her head in mild confusion, the spoon paused halfway to her lips, as Shawn threw open the door and stepped onto the porch.
The rumble of engines grew louder as the caravan approached the farmhouse. First came a pickup truck, kicking dirt as it rolled down the path, headlights blazing.
Behind it, a chopper hummed low, the rhythmic thrum of the motorbike loud in the open field. An old boxy RV followed close behind.
Shawn squinted through the glare. In the Driver's seat of the truck sat Shane, face tense with concentration. In the passenger seat, he saw the familiar blonde woman, the one Shane and he had saved in the forest from a walker, and beside her was another blonde, younger than her, probably her sister.
The bike pulled up beside them and shut off. Daryl dismounted first, his long, dirty hair, slightly curled, swinging lightly as he took in the surroundings with that unreadable scowl of his.
He walked with the same rugged intensity as his brother, like he always does.
Shawn stepped off the porch, boots crunching against gravel, offering a welcoming nod as they got out of their vehicles.
Shawn recognized almost all the faces from when they'd gone to fetch Lori and bring her back to Rick, except for two. The blonde girl and the old man.
The door of the RV creaked open as Carol burst out.
Her face was pale, her breath shallow with anticipation. Her eyes darted frantically across the yard, scanning every face, every corner. Then—
The sound of a door creaking open behind Shawn.
Sophia stood there in the entryway, one hand clutching the doorframe. She stepped forward slightly, the soft light behind her framing her small form.
Everyone turned.
For a heartbeat, no one moved, not even Carol.
Then in another heartbeat, Carol sprinted across the yard. She nearly tripped in the rush, but that didn't stop her. Her legs buckled when she reached her daughter, and she fell to her knees in the dirt, arms wrapping around Sophia like she might disappear again if she let go. Her face was wet with tears, and her lips smeared with joy.
Sophia didn't say anything; she just held her mother tight, as tears ran from her eyes, the guilt and horror eating at her faded for the moment.
From the RV steps, Dale stood with a quiet smile, his weathered face softening. Andrea put a hand to her mouth, blinking back tears, and Amy stepped close ot her sister, a grin blooming across her face.
For that moment, everyone felt like the world outside had faded into memory, hidden behind the curtain of safety the fences provided, and the moment of felicity it had brought.
.
.
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****
Read +3 or +7 chapters ahead on my Pat*eon
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