I've changed out of the bikers outfit and into ripped jeans, and oversized black sweater. I pulled my combat boots back on. I set my old outfit aside with the intentions of washing it after the funeral. I found a moment in the chaos to sneak away to take a shower, and freshen up; I washed all of the bullshit from the last few days from my skin.
I glance in mirror; dark circles dance under my eyes. It's a harsh contrast against my fair freckled complexion. I realize I look permanently tired and angry. Though, it's not far from the truth. After my little incident, I'm always on guard while the monster stirs restlessly inside my soul, waiting to be unleashed. Soon, I promise it and myself, I will get revenge for Jesus. I know he'd do the same if the roles were reversed.
My hands grip the sides of the sink while a sob tries to slip passed my pink lips. I beat it back before I lose control of my emotions. I already miss his wisdom. He would know exactly how to soothe the ache I feel when I'm around Daryl. I can only ignore him so long now that we are working together on getting the young teenager to spill all the dirty little details of her very dangerous group of feral humans. It's taken everything inside of me not to run into his arms, but I know he isn't mine anymore. He's mourned my death and moved on. Shit, he already fell into another woman's bed before news of my false death spread through the communities.
I'm having trouble feeling accepted back into Hilltop. Before I got kidnapped, I was already banned. I knew Jesus protested against Maggie's orders, but how many of her people sided with her call? I was already a loose cannon. Now, I'm more of a ticking time bomb. I'm able to mostly block out all of the shocked faces at my reappearance, and the comments of my return. It's only a matter of time before the monster makes itself known and I burn anyone too close to the fire.
However, my return isn't without drama unfortunately. As much as I want to cut it down before something big happens, again, I have a soul deep feeling that this is only the beginning of another war. So much for not raising the twins inside of a war zone. But this group will soon learn that they attacked the wrong people, with or without Rick, because I'm still here.
Sighing, I quickly run a brush through my short, straight brown hair before leaving the bathroom behind. I silently stalk outside of the Barrington house while everyone prepares for Jesus' funeral. I come to stop next to Daryl while he watches Charlee train our children in hand to hand combat. I steal a glance in his direction; I feel a lump lodge inside my throat. I never forgot how handsome he was, but he's aging like a fine wine. More grays litter his scruffy facial hair and pepper his long locks that kiss his shoulder. I cock my head, finding a new scar on his face below his blue eyes, and it stops shortly above his eyebrow. What the hell happened?
"They're good." He offers after a few beats of silence. He smirks, catching me stare at him.
I return my focus to our children while they get Charlee on her back with force. I nod, pride dancing on my face, "that they are. Have you talked to them, yet?"
He grunts, "nah. They ain't know me."
I watch him in the corner of my eye. He hangs his head awkwardly. "Yes they do. They know exactly who you are; a father who loved them very much, you just thought their mom was dead. I told them everything." I cross my arms, turning my attention to him, his eyes widen, meeting mine. "I don't believe in sugar coating shit. It's how you get killed in this world." I pause, allowing the statement to settle inside his bones. "They aren't mad at you, or me. They are very curious about you. Talk to them when you get the chance; but just a heads up - they are intelligent for their age." I fiddle anxiously with my fingers while I have his full attention. "They won't come to you, though. You gotta go to them."
He nods, but before he could replay, movement next to me catches his attention. He grows rigid. Curious, I glance over my shoulder, seeing James settle himself beside me, glowering at the redneck. "Aye runt, I got worried. It's been a long few days. Ya okay?" James questions.
"I'm fine, just tired. I got it handled, though." I put my hand up in warning. James grunts, eyes not leaving Daryl. I shake my head, growing annoyed over the protective big brother act. "James." I ground out, gesturing to Daryl. "This is Caroline and Kellin's father." I turn my focus to Daryl, "this is my step brother Tori mentioned once." Daryl nods at the plump man at my side, not offering any friendly statement. Instead, he returns to his classic stare down as he does with pretty much everyone he comes into contact with.
"Ah, the husband that left ya to die." James' deadpans. "Guess it would be ex-husband now."
"Jesus fucking Christ." I swear, knowing exactly where this is going, and I would rather be anywhere but between these two men. I run a frustrated hand through my hair, wishing I could make myself smaller.
Daryl raises his chin, eyeing my brother up. "There hasn't been any talk of divorce, or relationship for that matter. With all due respect, what happens between Vanessa and I ain't no one's business."
James scoffs, "there better never be any of that talk. Ya broke my baby sister's heart. Ya ain't deserve her."
Daryl glances between the two of us; I hang my head, deciding to stay out of the testosterone oozing into the air. Unfortunately, this is my circus and those are my monkey's; I won't let it get to the point where fists are flying between these two. It's the last thing anyone needs today.
"Hey!" Charlee barks, "didn't I tell you to stay the hell away from her?" I peer up, seeing Charlee stalk in our direction, joining the heated conversation. Now even more annoyed, I step in front of Daryl, facing these two. We were having a harmless conversation; this is taking things entirely too fucking far. I send Daryl an apologetic glance In his direction before returning my focus to Charlee and James. I find Caroline and Kellin watching the scene playing out with growing curiosity. This isn't the time or place, and the twins don't need to see them belittle and verbally attack their father.
"That's enough," I growl. "Back off." I narrow my eyes at them. Charlee glares at me, shaking her head in disbelief, taking off towards the direction where people are gathering for the funeral. James crosses his arms, continuing to have a pissing contest with Daryl. "I'm done with this shit, James. You will get along while we are here. With those skin walkers out there, we don't need Tara to kick y'all out for in house fighting. Got it? Now go find something to do before I make you hug and kiss and make up." James sighs, turning his back on us. "And I'm a grown ass woman, whatever I decide to do, or whoever I speak to, is no one's concern but my own. I'm not a child," I call out while he takes his own leave. I breathe out the tension building in my body. Without facing Daryl, "I'm gonna go help with the funeral. Go talk to your kids."
I stand between my children, finding a spot furtherest from the crowd that's milling around my friend's casket. My fingers intertwine themselves in Abraham's dog tags dangling around my neck, closing my eyes for a moment. I'm tired of losing everyone I grow close to. It's starting to feel like a damn curse at this point. If anyone could've beat this world, it would've been Jesus, but these fucking animals took that from him. The anger ignites, burning along my flesh causing my fingers to twitch. I'm dying to get my hands on these people. Jesus didn't deserve that kind of ending.
After I had walked away from Daryl, I found Charlee and James, letting them know that they will get along with Daryl and everyone else here. I pointed out that the twins were listening to them verbally berate their father, and I wasn't playing that game. My children didn't need to see that. At the end of the day, he is still their father and I know they want nothing more than to have a relationship with the archer. They were ordered to not stand in the way of that. If I find them threatening him, again, they will not like the person they will have to deal with. They both know exactly what I am capable of; they took the smart route, and agreeing that they went about things wrong, not wanting to feel the wrath they've watched me wrestle with over the last six years.
A hand softly claps my shoulder. Startled, I glance up, seeing Daryl. I relax at sight. I really need to get a grip on my anxiety. I'm a walking fucking dumpster fire. He gestures towards the building where the cells rest. A question inside his darkened gaze. I nod, bending down to whisper to my twins, "go stand with Aunt Wren, I got something to do." They nod at my order, doing as they were told. Wren's eyes meet mine before locking onto Daryl. She signals for me to go. With that out of the way, we stalk side by side as we enter the dark, damp space.
Daryl unlocks the cell, letting himself in. I position myself in front of the bars holding Henry. I cross my arms while listening to Daryl grab the girl, roughly slamming her against the bars. The sound of it echoing on the air around us. I guess, we are cutting through the bullshit. Good, I'm tired of playing this kids mind games.
"Who are ya? Answer the question." Daryl growls, "ya wanna die? Is that it?"
"Daryl, what's your problem?!" Henry barks, face twisting in concern and disgust. I hold my hand up, trying to silence the adopted son of Carol. His eyes flick between me and the space where Daryl disappeared to.
Henry has known I was alive. I've helped train him over the last few years under the King's request. He's grown close to Jamie because I would train them together while Charlee took on the twins. Henry had spent countless nights under my watch to spend time with his friend. I'm glad Jamie has someone his age that he can fall back on. I'm disappointed to see the young blonde behind bars. From the rumors I've heard, he got drunk and had escaped the walls. Carol won't be happy to hear what her adopted son has been up to.
"Quiet!" Daryl barks loudly.
I flinch at the sound. I swallow hard, forcing myself in the here and now. If I'm to continue on this little endeavor with the redneck, I can't allow my trauma to eat me alive. Daryl isn't Owen, I remind myself. Even where things stand between us, I know I'm safe from physical harm. Though, I can't say the same about the girl that's currently in his sights. But, this is her fault for attacking us the way they did. She's fucked around, now it's time to find out.
"Do ya?" Daryl continues. "People up there just buried a good man and they are ready to string ya up right now. One of them is standin' on the other side of those bars. He saved her from dyin', and she'd go to the ends of the world to bring him justice. She ain't one to anger. This ain't shit compared to what she'd do to ya." My neck snaps in the direction of his voice. Oh shit, he heard my conversation with Aaron. "All I got to do is drag your ass up them steps. How many in your group?"
"I already told you..." She gasps at the force Daryl is gripping her.
"How many?!" Daryl snarls.
I chew on my lip. I can't remember a time I've seen or heard him so angry. Back at the farm, he was usually pretty damn moody, but this is a whole new level of rage that I've never seen from him. I know he cares deeply for everyone in the communities, but he's taking this one super fucking personal. Right now, he's giving me a run for my money in the loose cannon department.
"There were ten of us! I think." She stammers, "we wore skins to blend in. We didn't have names. I mean... I mean, we did, but we didn't use them."
With Henry finally using his brain, and remaining silent, I stalk over to the cell, seeing Daryl shoving his knife in the teenager's face. I cross my arms, leaning against the bars. She senses movement, dragging her attention to me. Her dark eyes grow wide in fear, trying to shove him off of her. She can try until she's blue in the face. He's pretty much a wall she won't be able to get free of until he decides to set her down.
"How long ya been out 'round here?" Daryl questions. She drags her focus back to him.
"I don't know. We moved around with the... with the dead. I mean, the skins made them leave us alone. They protected us, so we protected them."
"You got a camp? Walls?"
"Walls?" She scoffs, a disgusted smirk grows on her face. "Walls don't keep you safe. Places like this don't make it. They never make it. That's how it is. My mom and me, we saw it happen over and over. I... I barely remember the world before all this. But my mom, she told me how it was changing, how we had to change with it, how we needed the dead and each other to keep safe. We're never alone."
"Why'd your people kill our people? Tell me!" Daryl shoves the point of his blade closer to her face.
"We're always gonna kill you, okay?!" Bingo. "It's just what people do now. Everybody still alive's a threat. It's us or them."
"How many people in your group?" Daryl asks, again, for the umpteenth time.
"I already..." she starts.
"The truth!"
The hostage exclaims, "it is the truth!"
"Don't lie to me!" Daryl's loud bellow echos in the air once again. I flinch; some of his closest friends lied to him about my well being. Maybe I'm feeling guilty, but it feels like those words weren't just meant for the young woman. They were aimed towards myself, too. I really do owe the man an apology. If anyone deserves one, it's him.
"If you don't fucking start talking, I will step in." I quietly threaten, "and you really don't want me to be in there with you. I'll make this look like child's play." I gesture to the situation she's found herself in.
"My mom! It's just my mom." She stutters, "she's a good person. Please don't go looking for her. Please. She's just one woman, out there alone."
I scrunch my face, We just caught her in a lie. I guess, we are going to have to use fear tactics on this child. I smirk at the thought. That I can do, and she really doesn't want me inside the cage alone with her.
"Ya said your people were never alone." Daryl counters. Ah, so he caught it, too. Kudos. He might be a redneck, but he's smart as hell when it comes to pretty much anything.
"She... She was at the cemetery. She got separated, but just her"
Daryl's face twists in a quiet, dangerous rage. He grips her shirt, beginning to drag her through the open door. Henry's and the teenager's voice intertwine together in fear. Maybe it's my maternal instinct kicking in, or the fact, for a moment, I see myself at Owen's mercy, but I decide to step in; giving her another few hours to live, and hopefully decide to start talking. I push off the bars, stopping Daryl from dragging her any further. He glances up to me. I observe as his eyes soften. I shake my head, "let's go talk. Let her rethink her answers. Because if she doesn't start telling the truth, I'm going to have a little fun." She swallows hard before Daryl shoves her back, locking the bars behind him.
We now find ourselves sitting outside the building. The sun has fallen; the moon high in the sky while we listen to Henry exchange words with the young woman. I roll my eyes; of course, he would have a soft spot for her. In my peripheral, I observe the redneck beside me. it seems like Daryl is letting him do our dirty work. Good cop, bad cops? I mean, whatever works, I guess. After a few minutes, I sit rigid against the building before she finally admits her name - Lydia. Bingo. We got it! Ten points for Gryffindor.
I blow out the tension through my lips, fumbling for my cigarettes. I light one, exhaling the smoke from my lungs. I close my eyes, thankful we got some of the answers that we were searching for. Hopefully, Daryl's yelling in the close quarters has finally ended. Though our project is far from over. I was having trouble keeping focus, and not returning to the dark place Owen has kept me. I'm still trying to leave those memories in the past, but somehow they still find a way to haunt me.
"So," I pick up my head when Daryl begins to finally break the silence between us, "ya wanna talk about ya return from the dead?"
Sighing, "not quite, but I suppose you deserve some answers that I can offer." I decide to be as transparent as much as I can with him, he deserves as much.
He nods, chewing on his lip, "why?"
"In my defense, you said it first." Shrugging, I take a hit off my cigarette. "I looked for you; but you weren't anywhere to be found. When I finally came to a week later, I overheard that you moved on. Charlee never let me forget it. Maybe it was selfish, but I decided to let everyone think I was dead. I needed space from everyone, anyway. I was angry, mean, and broken." I crack a sad smile, "I was a monster. I allowed that man to turn me into everything he accused me of." I glance up at the sky, "I needed you more than ever, but I couldn't destroy your happiness. That's not me." For the first time in six years, I realize I'm no longer angry with him.
"I fucked up everythin'." He frowns, fiddling anxiously with his fingers.
"I think we both did." I offer. "I didn't plan on keeping the kids from you. Charlee did that when I was unconscious at the Kingdom. I wasn't in the right mental state to argue. It was more of a kill, ask questions later kind of state. All I wanted to do was get back out there, and hunt him down. When I got what I wanted, I just wanted to heal and live a quiet life. It was selfish and I was so angry at everyone because I had thought had left me to die. I owe you an apology."
He grunts, acknowledging my words, "where do we go from here, Blue?"
I whisper, "I don't know. I'm not the woman you fell in love with."
He shakes his head, "nah, I'll always love ya. We'll figure it out. We always do. I told ya before, ya are stuck with me until one of us dies." I nod, staring down at the cigarette burning between my fingers. We have a lot to work through, but we need to start somewhere, and I guess this is it.