I glance around at the ash and the now permanently dead walkers surrounding us, panting, dragging down the bandanna from around the bottom half of my face, granting some moderately fresh air to assault my lungs. I proceed to run a dirty, blood caked hand through my sweat kissed brown hair, taking a moment of peace after the chaos we've all just endured, though, I'm not stupid enough to allow my guard to lower even for a fraction of a second. We trespassed into Alpha's boarders, and spent most of the night and well into the early morning trying to quell and extinguish the fire while simultaneously going toe to toe with the walkers that seemingly crashed our rescue party; we couldn't allow Oceanside to fall just as the Kingdom had.
Speaking of the not long forgotten community, I glance around, searching out the King, remembering the hell and pain that was etched into his face during the turbulent night. It's tine for him to confess his secret, I decide. After a long second of surveying the immediate area, I locate him leaning against a tree, taking a small break while Michonne barks out orders to the others. I tune it out as I approach the man in question. He peers up curiously at the sound of my footfalls.
"You and I are going to finish that conversation we started." I begin, observing as a wince scrunches his handsome features. "What is going on with you, Zeke?"
His dark eyes investigates those around us before dragging his attention back to me as I cross my arms, raising my chin, awaiting his explanation. "Vanessa -"
"No, no more excuses, or secrets. Speak." I ground out, shaking my head. Though, it doesn't escape my notice of the hypocrisy that spewed from between my lips. I know I'm notorious for keeping shit to myself. "C'mon man," I point a finger in his direction, pleading, "you've seen me at my worst, and kept pushing and pushing for this, that, and the other. Even if it was just to talk about the damned weather. You were a thorn in my side, but Jesus Christ, Zeke, because of you, I'm alive. Because of you, my babies got more years with their mother. I owe you so much more than my loyalty. Now, I'm asking you to be transparent with me. I'm not just anybody, you know that. Because I'll be the same thorn in your ass." I grin as a small smirk appears on his face, knowing damn well I won't let this go.
"You're right, but if I remember correctly, you told me where I could shove my concern on more than one occasion," he sighs. I mean he's not wrong. I wasn't exactly the friendly type during my six year long vacation. I was toeing the line of absolute insanity and bloodthirsty behavior. I just yearned to watch the world the burn because I was in pain and blamed the universe and those of whom shared the air with me. I wait with bated breath as his shoulders raises and falls with each breathe he takes in before reaching for my hand, placing it upon his neck. My eyes widen, blue eyes meeting his brown, as I feel a lump hiding under the fabric covering his flesh. What the hell? As if reading my mind, he whispers, "it's cancer."
I feel my world tip in on itself and head spins with so many dizzying thoughts at those two, simple words. Cancer? That's a fucking certified death sentence in this world. I can't lose this man like I can't suffer the loss of my husband. He filled a void that Rick ripped wide open in his death. I pull my hand back, peering between it and the King, seeing the darker man in a new light. I drink in the sight of him as if this will be the last time I ever get to lay my eyes on him. The dread circling the pit of my stomach grows with the thoughts working overtime in my psyche.
Sure, I've grown used to losing people in fights with other living, breathing sentiment beings and the dead, but this? 'Cancer' isn't exactly a word I thought I'd hear in this day and age. But, here we are. The hair littering my arms stand at attention as the news settles coolly into my bones, goosebumps leaving tiny cold kisses in its wake.
"Wha - no. How can you be so sure?" I sputter, trying to make sense of the words he had just uttered moments ago.
He shrugs, "it runs in my family, my little Phoenix. I'll be okay. I've come to my terms with it. Just keep this between us for now." Before I could question him further, movement from behind me catches Ezekiel's, taking him away from me without any further discussion.
Does Carol know?
Does Jerry know?
I grip the nearest tree for support, swallowing the nausea beginning to overwhelm my senses, trying to locate my composure. Damn it, Zeke, you want me to keep this to myself, but so many people depend you, like little ole me. You can't drop a bomb like that on me and expect me to pretend that everything is rainbows and fucking dandelions; because it's fucking not.
I plead with the universe for a miracle for the King. He doesn't deserve the kind of ending cancer would certainly give him. It just doesn't feel right for someone like him. Sure, he rubbed me the wrong way upon our first introduction, but he grew on me as time went on, eventually becoming someone I absolutely admire, even if I came off as a grumpy asshole in our time together at the Kingdom. Truthfully, I was thankful for him; I was just angry. He saved me after all - he didn't deserve how mean I was to everyone, including, and especially him.
I reiterate; I was broken, filled with a rage I didn't know how to handle, while mourning the marriage between Daryl and I, feeling a betrayal that wracked my entire soul; toeing the line of becoming someone like Negan or The Governor.
Maybe I would've, if it wasn't for the King, Jesus, Rosita, and Jerry.
I kick the bark in frustration, unflinching when it retaliates, causing a hot pain to rush through my foot. Maybe, I deserved it, for trying to assault Mother Nature. She can be just as much of a fickle bitch as karma could be.
"Blue," startled, I spin around in surprise, noticing Daryl watching me with those intense blue eyes of his. Something unreadable flashes through his expression. Is he what chased Ezekiel away? I know he stands on shaky ground with the King due to his close friendship with his estranged wife. "I ain't seen ya and wanted to make sure ya are okay." I swallow hard, nodding, allowing him to look me over.
I smirk, "you know I'm always okay." I tease, trying to defuse the tension radiating off of my own body.
He grunts, "maybe physically, but that head of yours..." he trails off, eyes sparkling with mischief.
I frown, letting the joke fall flat, remembering the conversation I had moments ago. I observe a quick sense of sadness morphs Daryl's beautiful face. I know we are working on our marriage while I heal. I know he feels the wall I keep erected between us, not wanting to be vulnerable with anyone anymore. I know it bothers him, though he won't speak about it. I warned him - I'm not the woman he once knew. I don't want him to witness the darker side that festered and grew over the time of my absence. It doesn't mean I don't love him as much as I once had. Nothing could truly wipe those feelings from my being. I shake my head, wrapping my arms around the redneck, "I love you, Dare. Don't you fucking forget that." He tenses at my sudden show of affection, but quickly snakes his arms around my waist, resting his head atop of mine.
"Did ya hit your head in that fight?" He breathes into my ears, his hot breath paints tiny kisses on that sensitive part of my body. I force the shiver to return to where it came from. Damn it, redneck; he knows its one of the most ticklish spots upon my body.
I chuckle, "nah, can't I be sweet once in a blue moon, Dixon?"
His body tenses once more, "it's been seven years since I've seen this side of ya, Vanessa." He pulls away, concerned gaze sweeping my face, "what happened?"
I bow my head, rubbing my arms absentmindedly, "it's not my secret to tell, so please forgive me."
I wince when I detect frustration dancing below his flesh, "not this shit, again. I can't even get ya to talk to me 'bout -"
Well, damn, it's the consequences of my own actions.
"Wait, hold on," I extend my arms, reaching for my husband. I swallow a sad sigh as he takes a step back from my touch. I wrap them about myself as I cast my eyes down, staring at our feet, allowing the sadness to display on my features, "I would love to tell you, but I can't. It's not my secret. I'm just keeping it for someone else. But, I have a feeling it'll come out, eventually. Probably sooner than later. I just ask for understanding, but I get it. I know I have a history of being secretive, and I know you're probably angry at me for the last few years; which you have every right to be. There's nothing either one of us can do; but we both made a decision to fix this. I'm trying here, I promise." At his silence, I click my tongue against my teeth, "okay, sorry," I breathe out, spreading my arms. "Since everything seems to be done here, I'm heading out to grab the twins, and I'm going home. I'll see you there, Daryl." Without another word, I use the sorrowful moment to take my leave of shame, beginning the trek back towards Oceanside.
I'm unable to fault Daryl for where his mind is. I've notoriously kept important bits of information from him and the group since the beginning. But now, I'm harboring Ezekiel's secret, not mine. Though, I don't agree with him keeping quiet about the bomb, it doesn't mean that I don't understand; oh, I do. I tried to keep the pregnancy, then the twins secret so I wasn't sidelined or fawned over as if I was going to break. We all know that's not the only information I've kept close to my chest, but I digress.
I always seem to find myself in sticky, messy situations.
I'd love nothing more than to tell Daryl; I need help rationalizing everything I'm feeling in regards to the King. But I can't risk him informing Carol, or anyone else for that matter. Ezekiel would never forgive me. It should be on his own terms to tell the heartbreaking news to his estranged wife. I cannot take that away from him.
I know Zeke misses Carol; hopefully they find themselves in a better position together before it's too late. I know how badly that regret could burn and fester into a soul that's already cracking.
I don't glance back at my husband when I hear him grumble incoherently under his breath. Instead, I signal for Wren, letting her know I'm heading out early. She nods, beginning to race in my direction. At least, I'm not leaving alone.
Little goosebumps break out along the back of my neck causing the little brown hair to stand at attention. Startled, I carefully examine the environment around me. A few yards out, I spot Beta watching me expectantly. If it's not one thing, it's another, I swear inwardly. Swallowing the groan building in my lungs, I raise my chin, not breaking eye contact with the giant man. I observe as he extends his hand, waving me over. I force myself not to gift him with my favorite one finger salute or the eye roll that would cause my blues to find themselves staring into the back of my skull. I'm not an idiot. We are in enemy territory; I know he wants to make an example out of one of us. In this case, me, since I seem to be the only one who notices his greasy presence. I smirk, pulling my bandanna back around my face before breaking the contact between us, deciding to ignore him.
Sure, I have an uncomfortable amount of frustration just prancing under my flesh that a fight might help relieve, but I'm in no mood to pick a fight with the skins. We all too tired, and spread entirely too thin. Furthermore, I refuse to be the one to fire the first shot in the Cold War between us. I won't be the reason all Hell breaks loose. I have no doubt that it's only a matter of time before they strike. I'll get my moment with the freaks, but now isn't the time, nor the place.
As much as I'd like to knock Goliath down a few notches, I'm taking Kelly's advice to heart - "you can't always win every fight; sometimes you just need to run away." There's no way I'm walking away from that dance without a scratch.
Soon, I promise myself, I'll give Jesus and Charlee their justice.