Different Worlds |Daryl Dixon Fan Fiction- The Walking Dead|

Twenty Seven: Two Out of the Trio

                 Cory sat by the barn, Carl standing nearby, keeping an eye on him. The rest of us gathered on the porch, discussing what to do. Not many wanted to keep him, but no one could send him away. It'd been just us for so long that the idea of another was just odd. However, we did have the future to think about, as in what this guy was capable of doing to us, and whether or not we could afford to take care of him. Sure, he could scavenge, but there wasn't a lot to scavenge anymore.
"I say we send him on his way with some stuff," I offered, "that way he can still make it on his own."
"We had a problem like this a long time ago," Rick looked disturbed. "It didn't go well then, and I'm not sure it will now. This man couldn't have made it this long without doing something he regrets, and the question is, is he willing to do it again?"
"If we would've just killed-"
"We weren't as smart as we are now, then." Rick cut off Daryl.
"He hasn't proven as a threat, yet. We can't just kill him." I shook my head. This was crazy. No one could seem to decide what to do. Nobody wanted him sleeping under the same roof as them, but he knew where we were.
"You said he's known we've been here for some time now, and he never hurt us. Why would he now?" Maggie asked, looking at me.
"He has seen how many we have, and he hasn't seen all the things we have inside. If we send him away, he'll probably never come back." I shrugged, unsure of what to do. I didn't want to make a decision like this.
"Your dad's not here, and I'd like to wait until he comes back to decide." Rick said, and we all nodded. It seemed like a viable option. "It is his home." By the look on Daryl's face, we were going about this almost the same way that they had the last time. I wasn't sure what happened, but it didn't sound good, and I didn't want it to happen again.
I looked over at Daryl, who shared the same look as I did. I wanted so badly to just got sit somewhere with him, have some downtime, but I brought Cory here and had to deal with him. I gave Daryl a small smile before turning away and heading for Cory and Carl. Cory was petting Mattie and Barnie, who were welcoming the newcomer. Carl had his hand on his gun, leaning against the barn, his eyes only now looking up as I walked over.
"What did they say?" Cory looked worried, holding tightly to the dogs' fur.
I shrugged, sitting next to him. "Rick wants to wait for my dad to get back, he should be back soon." I assumed he'd gone to check the traps, maybe go duck hunting. I hadn't bothered to ask. Hopefully he wouldn't take too long, though.
"What do you think he'll say?" Cory didn't ease up, he almost looked even more worried. I suppose the thought of another man joining the discussion, one that was much older and capable, was a nerve racking thought. I just gave him a pat on the back, not sure what to say.
"My father can see both sides of the argument," I told him, "but I can't say which one he'll choose." I admitted. This didn't seem to help Cory's nerves. "I can tell you that killing you isn't an option, it's just either send you off, or you join us. There's just a lot to think about." This time he seemed to relax just a little bit, which I was thankful for.
"I was just a volunteer fireman." Cory mumbled, looking at his shoes. "I could've helped people, I mean that's what I did when I wasn't building things for the city, Dallas, that is. But I didn't. I didn't have a girlfriend at the time, I lived by myself, and my parents lived close to the Mexican border. I headed down there to find nothing, now I'm heading farther North, though I'm taking it real slow." I nodded, if that's all he'd done in these few years, he really was being slow about it.
"I was a police officer in Tulsa, so once I was able to leave there, even though I definitely should've stayed, I headed down here. After a very long time of it just being my parents, brother, and friend, my dad and I headed towards Washington, but we ran into these guys along the way and turned around to bring them home." Cory lightened up at the idea of telling stories.
"I was with this one group for a little while, they let me just stay with them for a few weeks before I headed North again. There was this one guy who lived in his bunker for so long, that when he finally met other people, he thought he was hallucinating!" We both chuckled at the thought.
We carried on chatting, sharing stories and live experiences. It turned out that Cory and I were around the same age, and from familiar backgrounds. We both group up on farms, though he was an only child, and his farm was for cows only. He'd come across other groups and other people, but never stuck with them, because none of them seemed to want to go North, they were all too terrified. His idea of going North didn't seem bad to me, but I didn't think the group and I would be leaving any time soon. So, if all he wanted to do was stay around here for a little while, I couldn't see that being a huge problem.

My father drove up the driveway a few hours later, however he was only accompanied by my brother, who looked solemn. I covered my mouth with my hands, causing Cory to look around wildly. I watched from the barn as my father looked at the others, shaking his head lightly. Tom grabbed what looked to be ducks out of the bed of the truck, carrying them to the meat cellar. I felt the tears begin to drip down my cheeks, Jake hadn't made it.
Cory turned to me, bending down to better see my lowered face. "Hey, it's okay." He whispered, wrapping an arm around me. I began to sob softly, trying to contain it. I'd known Jake almost as long as I'd known Tom! They'd been best friends since I was five years old. I grew up with him as a second brother to me.
"Grace." A gruff voice spoke above me. I looked up at my father, his arms out stretched. I let him help me up, holding me in a hug.
"What happened?" I croaked, wondering what could've gone wrong. They were such a strong trio, we never had to worry when they were together.
"We were hunting, and he decided to go back to the truck to get something. Your brother and I made a racket, fighting over something stupid, and we attracted a bunch. Jake was being quiet, but the three got to him before they made it to us." Dad frowned, he saw Jake as a second son, he'd always been around the house. Dad and Jake's father had grown close, too, the four going on hunts together, and fishing trips.
I shoved my face into my father's chest, wiping my eyes and trying to pull myself together. "Did you get them?" I asked, looking up.
"Yeah, they're dead." I nodded, even though that didn't help me feel any happier.
Tom came back out, requesting assistance from Glenn and Tyreese. They went to the bed of the truck, pulling out the remaining lump. I looked in horror as the blanket fell, revealing Jake's dead face, a bullet hole to his forehead. Everyone around me covered their mouths, my mother breaking down into uncontrollable sobs. My father rushed over to her, grabbing her in his large arms. They carried him to the old truck, putting him in the back of that one, the one we used to carry the dead for burials.
The men, all but Daryl, still sore, and Cory, went to dig a grave. I excused myself to help my mother, who was in great distress. Carl took up position watching Cory, who looked at me with sorry eyes. Carol and Maggie took up dinner duty, since my mother was in no condition to do so.
I helped Mom into the bathroom, putting down the seat and wetting a cloth. I washed up her tear stained face. "Dad and Tom are going to feel guilty," I told her, containing my tears.
"Yes, they will." Mom nodded, sniffling. "I can take care of them just fine." She hiccuped, looking down at her feet.
"Do you remember when I had the biggest crush on Jake, when I realized he wasn't actually family." I giggled. I'd been almost thirteen, Jake a few years older, already gone through puberty and a very fine looking young man. I easily developed a crush, since I'd known him my whole life, and it made perfect sense. However, he helped me realize that we were more family than anything. Of course it hurt at the time, but it was reality.
Since then we'd grown up as strong friends, and if Tom wasn't around to help me, Jake was. My best friends in school were almost jealous at how much I told Jake and didn't tell them, but that's how it was. He helped me through a few breakups, threatening the guys who broke my heart with Tom. He was a true big brother, and I was happy to have known him.
"Oh, yes. That was so cute. You followed them around all the time, trying to get him to like you." My mother smiled, laughing softly at me.
"You know," I sighed, putting the face cloth in the laundry basket, "when I went off to school, and you would call to check up on me, and I'd act like I didn't miss home?" I asked, holding her hands in my lap.
"Yes, yes I do. You told me to call you less." She smirked at this.
"I talked to Jake almost every day, checking up on you guys. I made him swear secrecy that he'd never tell you guys how much I missed being home." I chuckled, "I didn't want to talk to you, because it made me miss it even more, but Jake always gave me a reason to stay put, to not come home until break."
Mom pulled me in for a hug, kissing my head. "He was a brilliant boy, and it's a shame he passed away, especially in this way. However, what we're doing is a good thing, remembering all of the nice things about him. We should celebrate him." I nodded in agreement.
"He'll be able to see his family again, too." I offered, earning a smile and a nod from Mom.
"Now, let's go, we have a funeral to attend, then we need to eat and deal with that boy." I nodded, getting up with her. I wasn't sure how I felt about her using the word 'deal', but I was sure she meant no harm by it.