Just run

Thirty three

Hot showers and toothpaste. Hot showers and toothpaste. Hot showers and toothpaste.

Hot showers and toothpaste.

Hot showers.

Toothpaste.

Hot showers and toothpaste. It became Georgie's mantra for the next hour, as she sat on the porch next to Daryl. He was gutting a possum, but she couldn't help, she just sat curled up next to him, watching.
"Georgie? Can I... Can we talk?"  Noah asked awkwardly.
"No." Georgie whispered, her voice full of fear, and immediately Daryl was worried.
"Please. Please, Georgie." Noah begged.
"She said no." Daryl growled.
"Georgie. Please, I need to talk to you. Please." The boy whispered, reaching over and putting a hand on Georgie's shoulder, the girl jolting away harshly.
"She said no!" Daryl snapped harshly, jumping up and squaring up to the teenager.
"Listen, I just...."
"Leave. Her. ALONE!" Daryl growled, backing Noah against the wall, then he suddenly stopped, and stepped back, allowing for Noah to leave, Rick replacing him.
"Hey, Georgie. The bathroom's free. Go get cleaned up, yeah?" Rick said softly, coming outside. "What was that about?"
"Nothin'." Daryl snapped.
"There's shampoo and stuff in there," Maggie commented, "but use conditioner and a brush in there to get rid of that bird nest on your head."
"Thanks." Georgie scoffed slightly, getting up. She wondered into the bathroom, and slowly undressed, first her cotton shirt, then her boots and her ripped jeans, and finally her underwear.
Then she let herself look in the mirror.
A tear ran down Georgie's cheek as she saw her reflection, the sight painful. She was bruised and scarred and painfully thin. Her skin was a dozen shades more tan on her arms and face and neck - she'd forgotten that she was paler underneath her clothes, underneath her heavy tan. Georgie's hands were cut, and nails were ripped. Her face was covered in dirt, her eyes surrounded in sleepy bags. But the most upsetting thing to Georgie Myung was her hair.
She'd never been a particularly girly girl, but she'd always had nice, thick, slightly wild hair. It used to come to just below her shoulders; long enough to tie up. When everything had began, she cut it all off - she looked more like a boy. It was safer to look like a boy. But after the Claimers took her, it was allowed to grow. Forced to grow. And now it was a tangled mess, just to her sharp collarbones.
She also ignored her stomach. It wasn't large, it wasn't showing. But she looked a little bloated. Just a tiny bit. But she  was.
Then Georgie got into the shower, and turned the hot water on, letting out a little squeak as she did so, then a laugh. Her first laugh in a while. The water was brown and red underneath her, and it was amazing. She washed her hair three times, until it was silky and soaked, a thick curtain of black on her head, then she scrubbed at the dirt on her body, finally becoming clean.
The girl reached out of the shower, and grabbed a toothbrush and toothpaste, then harshly brushed her teeth under the hot stream of water, the minty taste replaced by blood from so much brushing.
When she was finally done, Georgie stepped out of the shower, feeling lighter, refreshed, less angry, more optimistic. As soon as the water was turned off, she got a knock on the door.
"Hey, there's some clean clothes and stuff in the bedroom next door. Help yourself." Carol explained through the thick wood.
"Thanks." Georgie replied, and she wrapped herself in a towel, then grabbed her dirty clothes and left. In the room, she found a loose grey shirt, and she pulled it on, quickly realising it was far too big. She found clean underwear, and a pair of jeans, which she tried on. They were big, but she secured them at the waist with a belt, then rolled them up at the bottom, and they looked fine. After pushing her feet into her trusty walking boots, Georgie rubbed her hair half dry, and brushed it yet again, repeating the two steps until her hair was dry and full of volume and curled.
Georgie looked in the mirror one last time, and she preferred the image this time. She could only see from her shoulders and above, but she looked lightly more like her old self. She was more tanned, and skinnier, with a few cuts on her face. She looked a million years older, closer to thirty than fifteen, but she also looked stronger. Fierce. Weathered. Brave. Like she'd endured a storm, and come out scarred but alive.
She smiled softly, then walked it of the room, and downstairs.
"Woah," Rick laughed fatherly, as Georgie came into the room, "it's like I'm meeting a whole new kid."
Georgie looked up at him, and did a double take, realising what she hadn't earlier. "You've cut your hair. And shaved."
"I have. You okay?" Rick said softly, walking over and putting a hand on the back of her neck. Georgie nodded slightly, then suddenly hugged Rick tightly, clinging onto him. It surprised him - Georgie never initiated type of affection - but he hugged her back, his thumb gently caressing the back of her head.
"I feel like the old me." Georgie whispered into Rick's chest, and Rick laughed softly.
"Oh kid. It's gonna be okay. It's gonna be okay now." Rick soothed, still holding her. She clung onto him for a few more seconds, then pulled away.
"Thank you."
"What's happening with you and Noah?" Rick asked gently, and Georgie sighed.
"I really like him. I really do. But... I don't know if I'm ready for a relationship. It was okay until he kissed me. Then... Then all I could think about was how those men touched me. How they... And I couldn't say no. And I didn't think I could say no to Noah. So I freaked, and Daryl found out, and he got... Mad."
"It's because he cares. Daryl. He's mad because he wants to protect you. He gets it. And... Explain that to Noah. If he gets it, then he's worth your time. If he doesn't get it, then he's definitely not a good one."
"Look at you, giving boy advice." Georgie teased softly.
"That's because in this little family, Daryl is your dad, and Rick is your mom." Rosita teased from the background, and Georgie froze at the word "mom" then she relaxed, and allowed herself to laugh a little.
Georgie walked over to Carl, and sat down beside him, startling the boy a little.
"Wow, you're not actually that ugly." Carl teased, and Georgie scoffed, raising her middle finger at him.
"Dick. You don't look any different."
"Dick." Carl retorted.
"Cut the language out." Maggie ordered, and Carl looked at Georgie pointedly.
"Fuck you." Georgie sang, as Michonne walked into the room, a smile on her face.
"How long was I in there for? God." The woman smiled, and Rick laughed softly.
"Twenty minutes."
"God, I could not stop brushing. Huh. I've never... I've never seen your face like that." Michonne said softly with a smile.
"That's what I felt. Before and after."
"Look. I get why were playing it safe. We should. I just... I have a good feeling about this place."
"Well, I hope you're right." Rick nodded.
"Yeah, me too." Michonne smiled softly. They heard a knock on the door, and Georgie jolted harshly.
"It's okay." Carl said gently, as Rick went to open the door, to reveal Deanna.
"Rick I... Wow," the woman smiled, as Rick groaned childishly, sick of everyone complementing his looks, "I didn't know what was under there. Listen I-I don't mean to interrupt. I just wanted to stop by and see how you were all settling. Oh my. Staying together. Smart."
"No one said we couldn't." Rick said pointedly, and a warmth grew in Georgie's chest.
"You said you're a family. That's what you said. Absolutely amazing to me, how people with completely different backgrounds and nothing in common can become that. Don't you think?" Deanna smiled. The words hit Georgie hard, and she thought about how she would have never met the man who had become a father to her without the apocalypse. She'd have never met her family. Daryl. Carl. Rick. Maggie. Glenn.
Her family.
"Everybody said you have them jobs." Rick asked suddenly.
"Mmhmm. Yeah. Part of this place. Looks like the communists won after all." She joked.
"Well, you didn't give me one."
"I have. I just haven't told you yet. Same with Michonne. I'm closing in on something for Sasha. And I'm just trying to figure Mister Dixon out, but I will. You look good."
"What about me?" Georgie asked suddenly.
"You? You go to school. You and Carl."
"No." The girl scoffed.
"Yes." Rick retorted, Daryl half laughing.
"I'll leave you to it." Deanna smiled, before leaving.
"You're goin' to school," Rick said firmly, putting a gentle hand on the top of Georgie's head, "both of you."
"Daryl? Do I have to?" Georgie taunted.
"Nah. No point, really. Do what ya want."
"Ha. Step-dad overrules fake dad anyway." Georgie teased, but the words made Rick smile; he was proud to be Georgie's fake dad.