Daylight brought a tide of new walkers staggering up the road to be dispatched. One nearly grabbed Rosita by the shoulder before Abraham could catch it by the throat and slam it bodily to the ground, bashing it's skull open with the force of his violence.
Rick watched from the steps, eerily frozen. The light didn't seem to banish the shadows painted across his face. "What's going on?" Daryl asked, pocketing his pack of cigarettes. Glenn had snagged him the set and he was trying to stretch them, but the first morning without Oscar alive had him digging one out already, eager to fill his lungs up with smoke.
"Everyone's packing."
He grunted. The food was being shuffled into the lower compartment of the bus as the priority and he had already scared Eugene off from poking around the engine when no one else was looking. "Right."
"Don't think Gabriel's right for this trip."
Daryl frowned, looking at him. "Nah, man. We're not leaving him behind."
"You really wanna bring him with us? He's a liability."
"You all were. Back then, you didn't know left from right. And I didn't leave you to starve. What the hell were you providing?" Daryl's grief steadied out into anger. He knew it best, his childhood shaped around it. "You left my brother behind. We left Andrea. Carol. I'm not doing it again."
Gabriel was deficient with his softness but they had all been like that once, fumbling their way along the campsite at the quarry and the farm, trying to piece together the new rules to surviving. "So, you trust him then."
Rick's eyes looked flat, harsh. A bit of judgement glinted back.
"Way I heard it, you were a liability strolling through the streets of Atlanta. Glenn picked you up and gave you a chance. Everybody needs people to survive."
Daryl knew enough dead people who would have vouched for the stranger. They couldn't speak on the man's behalf so he would, grimly resolved to the matter. Gabriel, useless as he was, had opened the church up. He had sat in silence when Gareth offered him the deal, an attempt at coaxing out a coward with a key to surviving the violence. Maybe, if he lived long enough, he could adapt the way they all had.
The group was sliding so firmly into Abraham's hand and it displeased Rick, that sway of force. But Daryl didn't care. The bus was better than walking and eventually something would be enough. They still had their numbers and the dreams that came with it; hopes for a fence and a shelter, something to fight for.
He left the man sitting on the steps and went into the church. Golden light streamed in through the windows and it just highlighted the old bits of chaos. Bullet holes in the walls, splattered blood that nobody had tried scrubbing off of the hymnal cards. They had buried Oscar in the graveyard behind the church but the other bodies would be left to rot in the one room, locked tight like a tomb. Sunlight wouldn't greet their faces again and they wouldn't be given the luxury of a grave.
Maggie frowned at him from where she sat on a pew with Ivy at her feet, his kid's face grimacing as the woman tried working the knots in her hair free. "Bit of a bird's nest," she greeted him, picking a snarl with the end of a comb. "Glenn out back?"
"Organizing supplies," he said, taking a seat next to her. "Said he'd keep Beth in his sights."
The younger Greene had been picking wildflowers for Oscar's grave. Carol and Tyreese had been with her but Glenn was her persistent shadow, watching her even as he hefted the boxes of canned goods into the storage.
Maggie had a spray bottle of water mixed with conditioner and he took it, shaking it slightly. Ivy's hair had knotted around the ends and he sprayed it carefully, inhaling a cloud of rose scent. "Here," Maggie handed him the comb. "I gotta go check with Carol. She's supposed to go refill the water jugs."
"Tell me if it hurts," he told Ivy, "Don't wanna pull."
The section in his hands slowly work itself freed and Daryl gently ran the comb through it to make sure that thin teeth weren't catching on anything. Her hair was already damp from a quick wash in the creek and it made the work easier, dedicated to the task of easing each knot. Ivy's hair was thick and curled easy enough, but between the trip to Terminus and the escape, it had formed angry snarls that caught on her fingers when she tried yanking it away from her face.
Eventually his work was complete but Daryl ran the comb through a few more times, noticing the way the tension in her shoulders dissolved from the practise. But eventually he had to stop, tapping her shoulder to catch her attention. "Better go wash it out again. Come back and I'll fix it up for you."
She had changed back into her clothes after her quick wash in the creek and hadn't bothered to put the sling back on. Ivy cradled her arm tight to her chest with her good hand. "Okay."
"Hey, where's that sling?"
His luck, she would have tossed it into the creek in an effort to escape it. Ivy scowled at him. "With my stuff."
Her few items were folded neatly next to his. Daryl would have to busy himself in her absence by fitting it into Oscar's bag. The sling was barely visible from beneath the spare shirt Maggie had found her. "Get," he scowled back, messing her hair up to annoy her into smiling.
Sasha was still at the creek keeping watch. Modesty didn't mean much on the road but they tried to divide the time at the water, men earlier in the morning and the women after. Ivy was safe to run the short distance to the creek with the older woman keeping a sharp eye out on any danger looming.
Daryl crossed the church to their supplies and pulled Oscar's bag close, digging through the contents with a practised hand. He was a bigger man and the few spare items of clothing could be split between Abraham and Tyreese. There was a slim paperback of poetry and bag of pecans, and when he opened the book up he saw the man's familiar writing. 'Mika and Lizzie.'
He wasn't sure why he had recorded the names of the girls onto the first page. It might have been a way of remembering one girl killed and the other abandoned, or it might have been something different. Daryl would never know.
Carol had admitted a few details earlier, guilt heavy across her shoulders. He still remembered that deathbed promise to look after the pair, the woman collecting two new lives to watch out for. And then one killed the other as soon as Carol's back was turned.
Daryl tore the page from the book and shoved it in his pocket incase Ivy got bored and started looking at it. He finished shoving their items into the bag and left her sling out, waiting with a nervous ball of energy tight against his chest. Daryl felt edgy in Ivy's absence, his desire to keep control slipping. But eventually she returned, face brightening when she saw him.
She had worked the conditioner out but he still ran his fingers through her hair to check for any new tangles. The length of it left her shirt wet and he pulled it carefully, binding it into a simple braid. It had been a lifetime since Lori had cut the split ends at the farm and eventually someone would have to make the girl sit long enough to do the job a second time, but he said nothing, content to form the braid.
He tied it off with the elastic she offered. And, because he knew his kid, he caught her by the wrist before she could move off. "Gotta put it on."
"It's fine, I don't need it."
"Wasn't asking for your opinion, kid. C'mon."
Daryl helped her gently get situated, her healing limb locked into place. Bob had started working her through with a few quick exercises and stretches to help strengthen the shoulder and Ivy had committed to the task, intent on discarding the restricting sling as quickly as possible. "Bob said it was okay now. I don't need it."
"Sure. That's exactly what he said," Daryl said dryly, flicking her forehead lightly when she frowned.
"When can I take it off then?"
"Hasn't even been a week yet. Stop fussing with it. You take anything yet?"
"Yeah."
"Liar," he grouched, tugging the pill bottle out of the side compartment of Oscar's bag. He loosened the cap for her and passed it over, watching as she carefully rattled out a pill. "Two."
"Sorry, I can't hear you."
The joke took him by surprise and he laughed, yanking the bottle back and knocking out a second pill. "Good try."
"We should save them for when we need them," Ivy frowned, looking at the pair in her hand. When he didn't budge she sighed and rolled her eyes, tossing them back with a bit water. "Cheers," she grouched, trying to cross her other arm in a way that looked intentional.
Daryl stashed the pills back into the bag and zipped it up tight. "I've got a kid with a dislocated shoulder. You need 'em. End of story." That did the trick, softening her flare of stubbornness. He hefted the bag over his shoulder and snatched up his crossbow. "Hey, no wandering off for a bit. You hearing me?"
Ivy tilted her head, looking at him in surprise. "Is everything okay?"
He didn't quite know how to explain the tension knotting his heartstrings into a noose and how his skull rattled with the sound of grave dirt falling on a body. Ivy looked smaller in the honest daylight and he just needed to learn how to breathe again without it catching on barbed wire and rusted nails. "Just... stick close by. Just for a bit."
She stuck out her hand and he took it. "I won't go anywhere."
Professional runner or not, Ivy was fairly good about sticking to his range of vision. He tried to let it settle him a little bit. But when she drew her hand back it instinctively went back to the sling, fingers pulling at it. "What's your problem with that?" Daryl frowned, catching her hand again and pulling it away.
"What?"
"Why do you keep trying to get rid of that sling?"
Ivy shrugged a shoulder, suddenly tensing up. "I don't like it. I don't like... being restrained."
That was a gut punch he wasn't prepared for. Of course his kid knew exactly what it was like being in restraints with her wrists bound up. Daryl tried to hide the flash of anger as he remembered pulling a bit of tape off her wrist, the marks Merle had left when he tied her up with wire. "I get that. But I saw you the other night, takin' down that walker."
Ivy hadn't been aware that Daryl was in her shadow, locked into place with his crossbow raised up and ready to fire. He had wanted to see how she could handle the situation or if she would freeze up, spooked from the other day when a walker had grabbed her from his blind side. They weren't living in the bubble of the prison anymore. If she was going to survive, Daryl needed to know what she was capable of. If the darkness hindered her ability to defend herself, he needed to see.
"So?"
"Did it with one hand free. Pretty good, actually. Some people couldn't do that."
She turned away slightly so he couldn't see the slight smile starting at his praise. "It was just one."
"Sure. But this? Ain't forever. Just a little bit longer so you heal up."
"Feels like forever," Ivy said with all of the teenage moodiness she was capable of, broken up only by the three quick squeezes of her hand around his. "Are we going soon?"
"Yeah. Give this to Gabriel," Daryl said, pulling out Oscar's old water bottle. "It's a spare."
Ivy took and turned away, crossing the room to where the man sat at the front of the church, gazing up at the old windows and scripture painted on the walls. He kept an eye on her as the man accepted the offering with a tight smile and caught a snippet of words. "... my dad wants you to take it."
Dad.
That word had been popping up more and more frequently and Daryl tried not to keep score in his head, that invisible mark of validation catching every single time. It was something Lori would have smirked at if she was still around, that reassuring 'I-told-you-so' from the woman who had a habit of picking people apart to their bare bones and the nerve to be right about it.
His dream, after the fall of the prison, had jarred him. Ivy in the diner, Lori judging him from across the table. She had given him a standard to meet and he couldn't afford to falter.
Gabriel gave him a grateful nod, tucking the bottle into his own little pack. It was still full from the last time Oscar had stopped for water. Ivy returned to his side and he led them both out and into the sunlight, taking in the old school bus in it's restored glory. Abraham apparently had a gift for playing with mechanics and managed it back into sound shape, engine a steady hum despite sitting for a year in disuse.
The side of the bus had been painted with the handprints from children, all different colours. Glenn slammed the underside compartment shut and turned, instinctively tossing two protein bars in his direction. "Figured we're not stopping anytime today so keep 'em on you."
"Yeah," Daryl said, tucking them into his pocket. "You good to go?"
"Just want out of here," Glenn sighed. "Tired of this place."
It wasn't the same church that they had first found.
Abraham was sitting at the wheel, his hands nervously tapping on it like a drum. "Ready to move out, people?"
Ivy went up the short steps first and he followed her, claiming the seat directly in front of Maggie was sitting. Beth was further in the back beside Tyreese and she gave a small wave when Ivy looked in her direction. Daryl breathed a little easier once his body was between Ivy and everyone else.
He couldn't remember the last time he had sat on a bus like this. Maybe for a field trip, maybe not. Daryl leaned back into the seat and pressed his hand to his chest, feeling that horrible knot of anxiety slowly loosen. Ivy surprised him by sliding her arm through his and leaning against his shoulder. "Tired, kid?"
Ivy said nothing. She was already asleep, damp hair pressing into his shirt.
Everyone boarded the bus and Rick took the steps last, face grim. The power dynamic had shifted some point after Terminus and it hadn't been resolved yet. Eventually there would be a reckoning between the men but it would have to wait, strung out by the miles left to go.