<<<
(DAY 020) It's been a couple days since my last entry. Not a whole lot changed since then, up until today. Well, for one, I hung out with Martinez at his house in town all day after one of our shifts. He told me that he's starting to think Phillip likes me, and then listed a whole bunch of reasons why.
1 - He never saw Phillip let anyone address him by his first name.
2 - As far as Martinez was aware, Phillip never asked anyone else to dinner the first night they were in Woodbury. In fact, Phillip said he invited a couple others to dinner that night, but no one showed up. Apparently, Phillip only invited me and pretended it wasn't supposed to be a date.
3 - Phillip supposedly mentions me in specific all the time out of all the community members.
4 - Phillip told Martinez that he felt awful for putting me in a house with a man and kids, but Martinez knew it was just because he didn't want me to start liking Titus.
Martinez said he had plenty of evidence but Phillip ironically stopped by to ask Martinez something. I left in the midst of the awkwardness and went back home. I can't stop thinking about it, though. Phillip could possibly like me. I mean, I always thought he was handsome and he was a nice man to me right off the bat. He did seem funny as well during our dinner, too. He's charming and witty, as far as I know. What's not to like about him?
Oh my god, I think I might like him. Now I have a crush on the leader of the town and it's all because Martinez suggested the idea of him liking me. Then again, Titus thought so too when I got back from dinner that night. Am I just desperate? Maybe that's it. It's been a long time since I've been in a relationship, let alone anything serious. On top of that, I've been feeling really lonely since the start of this. And I've only known Phillip a week. I must just be craving attention or something.
And Phillip just knocked on my door and asked me if I had anything to do tonight. For someone in charge of an entire town, he sure has a lot of free time to spend with just me. I told him I didn't have any plans or anything, so he asked me if I wanted to come over and have a drink. Of course, I said yes. I don't know if this is a date or not but I'm gonna dress up anyway and hope he doesn't get weirded out. Maybe Karen will let me borrow a little makeup.
_________________
Update: Karen let me borrow makeup and she's helping me get ready later tonight. I asked her what she thought and she said she agrees with Martinez and Titus. Her words were literally, and I quote, "I bet he hasn't stopped thinking about you since he found you." I'm starting to get really excited and nervous. I might throw up. Oh god, what if I get too drunk tonight and throw up or start crying or rambling? What if I try to have sex with him and he thinks I'm weird? I just won't get too drunk. Problem solved.
It's still light out, so it'll be a little bit until he comes to get me. I don't know what I'm gonna do until then. I've been busy since I got here, meeting the new people or taking shifts or catching up on sleep. This is actually the first time I haven't been doing something. I don't see Martinez anywhere from here, but he could be anywhere. This town is large. I'm gonna go find Milton. Maybe he needs help with something. I'll be back to finish this up later.
<<<
When I saw Rosita exit the house, returning to the porch where the lot of us sat, I waited to hear who was heading in after her. A bunch of the group had already gone, but I hadn't, and neither had Daryl, Merle, or Shane. After the argument that had just gone down, I could only pray I was next. We had only been sitting on the porch a couple of minutes, only behind these community walls for nothing more than a half hour, and we had begun fighting like we used to at the farm.
"Cory," Rosita called out, "You're up."
I sighed with relief and forced myself off of the porch chair, refusing either Daryl or Shane's hand. Without looking at either of them, I headed into the house, unsure what Deanna would be asking me. I had no clue what she had asked anyone before me, so I was going in with no idea what would happen.
Deanna was the leader of the town. Aaron had mentioned yesterday when we first met him that there were auditions to get into the group, and Deanna was the one doing them, supposedly. As I entered the house, finding myself in the living room, I saw an older woman stood by a couch, a woman with gentle features and somehow an immediately positive energy. It was unsettling, honestly, but I acted as though it didn't shock me.
"Hello," she said to me calmly. "I'm Deanna."
"Cory."
"Is that short for Corinna?"
"Corynn, actually," I corrected.
"Well, have a seat, Cory," she said, gesturing to the couch she stood next to. "Mind if I record our talk?"
"Why?"
"For... keeping track of things, I guess," she replied. I had no reason to object, so I nodded. She began recording, immediately asking, "What is your full name?"
"Corynn Elaine August-Jenner," I answered, going on to briefly explain. "August is my legal last name, but Jenner was my birth family's name, so that's what I typically go with."
"You were adopted?" she asked.
"When I was born, my mother was too young for a child, so they passed me on to some friends of my father, Chad and Denise. My real dad passed away soon after and my mother went off to California, supposedly."
"Did you have any siblings?"
I nodded. "I had a sister a year younger than me --- Michelle."
"What happened to them, your family?"
"Denise died immediately, Chad went out to Atlanta, and Michelle and her boyfriend were up here in Virginia at the time of the outbreak, so I haven't heard from them."
Deanna bobbed her head along to my short story. "Do you miss them?"
"We weren't exactly an ideal family, but I guess I do," I admitted. "I've gotten used to not having them, but sometimes I do wish they were around."
"You weren't an ideal family?" Deanna repeated in a questioning tone. "Mind elaborating on that?"
I shrugged. I didn't know why any of this mattered now but I had no reason to hide it.
"Chad had some... issues. He didn't beat us up, but he shoved us around and he and Denise drank a lot. Sometimes I wondered if Chad cared about me at all, but Denise did a little bit."
"What makes you say that?"
"She once had me go to this group counseling thing," I told her. "She was worried about my well-being, I guess."
Deanna pressed her lips together, nodding once more. "So, on a different note, I can't help but notice you're pregnant."
"Yep."
"Would you mind if I ask who the father is?"
Here we go.
"I'm not sure, actually. It could be one of like... five guys," I admitted, amused by her distraught reaction. "I was... attacked by a group of men a while back."
"Oh," she quietly murmured. "I'm sorry for bringing it up."
"It's fine. I've talked about it so much it doesn't bother me to explain it anymore."
"When was that, then?"
Doing the math another time in my head, I calculated my response. "It's been about 6 and a half months."
Deanna seemed mildly surprised at the number or maybe the fact that I had a specific one, but she went on without a second to pause.
"To change the subject," she casually said, "what was your profession before all this? Did you attend college or any kind of school?"
"I have a degree in cosmetology," I informed her. "I never really did much with it, but I sometimes had at-home clients. For the most part, I lived at home with my parents or stayed with some friends down the road, so I didn't have a solid job."
"Jessie Anderson," Deanna mumbled to herself, then spoke up for me, "she was a hairdresser as well. Maybe you could make friends with her if your group stays."
"Maybe." I shrugged. I wasn't one of the ones against staying here, so I enjoyed the idea of making some friends, but I had no clue how long we'd even be here.
"She has two sons and a husband that live here, too," she added. "One of them is about the age of the boy you all have with you."
Carl hadn't met someone his age in a while. Well, there were the kids that came to the prison after the war with Woodbury, but he didn't seem too attached to any of them, at least just from an outer perspective. He had still talked to me or Michonne more than any of the kids his age.
"Well, I was part of Congress before all this, up in Ohio," Deanna said, noticing my lack of communication. I smiled and nodded to pretend I was intrigued by this, but she didn't seem to buy it. "So... mind telling me your journey so far? What did you get up to after everything went down?"
Though it felt like I had gone over my past a million times before, I sighed and went on to do it another time.
"With the very initial rise of the outbreak, my family and two of my friends all fled from our town, and I was separated from the two people that mattered to me. About two weeks in, I found a town called Woodbury and fell in love with the man leading the place, a guy named Phillip. I was there for a good few months and by that point, I was basically leading it alongside him, but I had a miscarriage and he started to scare me a little, so I left and ran into Rick and his people a few weeks later. We were at the CDC in Georgia for a day or two before taking off, finding a farm, and then spending months on the road with practically nothing to eat. We ended up at a prison for a while, and we had a run-in with Woodbury that resulted in a full-blown war and a lot of chaos, and so Phillip disappeared and returned a few months later, attacked the prison, and split us all up. We all eventually found our way back to each other, ran into a group of cannibals and then a group at Grady Memorial that had their morals twisted before we headed up this way. Then Aaron found us and brought us here, so..."
"Have you lost a lot of people along the way?" she asked, noticing I hadn't really touched on the subject of death in my summary. "What happened to that man? Phillip?"
"When the prison went down, I was in a separate section and left way after everyone else was gone, and I ran into him on my way out," I said. "He had killed someone really important to us ---Maggie's father, in fact--- and after seeing what he did, I knew he didn't deserve to live. He could have lived if I helped treat his wound, but he didn't deserve that."
"Was it hard?" Deanna questioned. Seeing my confused face, she clarified, "Was it hard to end his life after everything?"
"Killing him was probably the hardest thing I ever had to do, but I couldn't do anything else," I admitted. "I was in love with him for so long, and to be honest, I probably always will be, but he changed into a completely different person after I left Woodbury the first time. He wasn't the same man I fell in love with, and I couldn't let him live after the things he had done."
"So... you do feel guilty about it," she pointed out.
"More guilty than I should feel, yeah."
"Have you killed anyone that you don't feel guilty about?"
I had been momentarily unsure why she was so interested in my relationship with Phillip and how I had felt going through all of that, but it made sense now. She was investigating whether or not I was psychotic.
"I've killed... five people," I told her, "that were alive and well. Two of them, I feel guilt for. There was Phillip, and I also killed a man that I didn't even know the name of because he was screaming and attracting walkers to us in this cabin... and he would've gotten a lot of people killed if he didn't stop. Those two, I feel guilty about."
"Who did you kill that you don't feel bad for?"
"They were three of the men that attacked me," I simplified. "We ran into them months after it happened, and they attacked me and a few others, one threatened to rape the boy with us, and me, and another woman, and threatened to kill my boyfriend. All of that added onto the pure fact of what they had done to me already, I didn't feel an ounce of guilt. I felt regret because I didn't get to kill the others, too."
Deanna went quiet at my dark response to her question, but she didn't look distressed or disturbed. She just looked pitiful.
"Do you have any existing history of mental illness, by the way?"
That was a rough question. God, if Rick or Daryl heard that one, they'd laugh their asses off. I had been called crazy straight to my face so much that I owned it at that point. I started calling myself crazy because I soon realized that it was true.
"I had a short period of a few weeks that I saw hallucinations of a friend I had lost. He showed up in a ghost-like entity, I guess, and talked to me, and most of the time, I responded. There were points that I forgot he wasn't real and would talk to him in front of people, even. That hallucination was actually the reason behind me killing that man when he wouldn't shut up in the cabin. He told me that it was the best option, so I just did it."
"I asked earlier about your losses, but I didn't really get an answer," she reminded me. "Have you lost a lot of people?"
"Yes," I told her. "I probably couldn't count the amount of people we've lost by now. We've lost people from practical strangers to family. Maggie... she lost her sister and father in a very short span of time. Rick lost his wife ---Carl lost his mother. Sasha lost her brother and boyfriend just recently. Carol lost her daughter and her husband. I lost Phillip, and for a while, I thought I lost my best friend, but he turned out to be alive all this time, so all those hallucinations were for nothing. Me and the Dixons... we thought we lost an old friend but he could still be alive as well, now. Michonne lost her best friend, and there's so many more that I couldn't even begin to explain."
Deanna pressed her lips into a fine line. I had gone into more detail than she likely wanted, but I hadn't gotten a chance to rant to someone that didn't have an inside opinion on the amount of loss we faced. They likely didn't experience that here, behind these walls. They didn't go through death the same way we did. They couldn't possibly feel what it was like to lose people you fought beside. Our group, we were close. Every time we lost someone, it was a tragedy.
"How... how long have you been out there?" Deanna asked.
"669 days," I told her, "roughly."
She furrowed her eyebrows. "You're counting?"
"I keep a journal," I explained. "It's mainly filled with my own rants and feelings, but I've been keeping track of the days and events we've gone through."
"Interesting." She bit her lip in thought. "Do you think I could read it sometime? Maybe if your group is going to stay?"
"Hell, you can read it and get it back to me before we leave if you want," I suggested. "The point of me writing it was for people to read it."
Without a response from her, I began digging in my bag that I had brought into the room, finding the first journal and pulling it out. I handed it over to her, and almost instantly, she was flipping through the pages curiously. She stopped after a moment, pulling out a photo from in between certain pages. She held it up to me.
"This is Phillip?" she asked, practically stating it rather than questioning it. I nodded my head.
"I have a polaroid camera," I told her, "and an album full of pictures."
"May I have a look?"
Though once again unsure why she'd want to look at pictures of people she didn't know, I didn't object. There wasn't anything to hide. It was just a bunch of pictures of people in our group. I hadn't taken any since before the prison went down, and I didn't have any pictures from before around 450 AZ due to me not getting the camera back until around then. I did have a couple in my journal of Phillip and I from before I first left Woodbury, and Deanna had discovered one of them. It was unfortunate that I didn't have any pictures of anyone to recently join our group, including Shane, Abraham, Rosita, Tara, Eugene, Noah, or Gabriel. I had time to take pictures, yeah, but I didn't want to remember anyone in the state we were in, nearly starving.
I gave my photo album to Deanna, who began flipping through the pages casually. I knew she wasn't actually interested in what she was looking at, rather interested in pretending that she cared so I'd trust her. I had no reason not to trust her so far, but that fact of her pretending to care was a little unsettling.
"These are taken pretty well, actually," she complimented, "for someone not into Photography, anyways, and for someone with a rather outdated camera. Do you know what this one is?"
"I think it's a One600 Classic," I told her, uncertain. "Phillip got it for me at a store in Woodbury. Apparently, they were released back in 2004."
"Huh." She continued looking through the pages, stopping every so often to observe the photos in the pages. Eventually, she pointed to one, turning the album around for me to see. "Who's this? Tyreese?"
I viewed the photo, sighing.
"Yeah. He was Sasha's brother," I told her. "He just died about a week ago."
"I'm sorry," she murmured. She moved along and continued looking at the photos while I made myself comfortable on the couch. She, a moment later, turned the album around to point out another one. "Who's 'Hershel'?"
"That was Maggie's father," I briefed. "That's the man Phillip killed. That was about a month ago."
"He looks like a sweet man," Deanna proposed.
"He was probably the kindest person I ever met," I said. "It was his farm that we stayed on a while ago, shortly after I found this group. He and his daughters were there, and he also homed a man named Otis, Otis's wife, Patricia, and a young boy named Jimmy. Hershel was a saint, honestly."
"His daughters," she repeated. "That's Maggie and... Beth?"
I was startled that she knew Beth's name, considering I hadn't said much about her or mentioned her by her name in specific. It wasn't until Deanna pointed to a photo of her that I realized she must've seen that Maggie, Hershel, and Beth all had the same last name. Looking at the photo, I was saddened.
"Yes," I confirmed.
"What happened to Beth?"
It hurt to even think about what happened with her. Her death was heartbreaking and so sudden and unexpected. Of all things that could've happened that day, we somehow found one of the worst outcomes possible.
"We fought against a group at Grady Memorial," I stated what I had touched upon earlier, "and they were holding her captive there. Not long after, I was kidnapped, too, and then Carol was brought in the next day, and when the group came to get us out, Beth was shot and killed in the midst of a mishap."
"Oh my," Deanna replied in a hushed tone. "You all really have been through a lot."
"We have."
She continued looking through the photos, and I waited to see who she'd point out next. It was a moment later when she presented me with a photo of Rick and Hershel, stood outside of the prison, talking.
"That's Rick?" Deanna chuckled. "Looks like a different guy."
"He won't shave," I joked. "Maybe he will now that we're here."
"God, we can only hope." Deanna kept flipping as she continued the conversation. "He needs a damn haircut, too. Same goes for that guy with black hair."
"That guy's Shane," I told her, "and yes, he does."
"There aren't any pictures of him in here," she pointed out. "Why is that?"
"Shane's actually the guy I hallucinated, the one we thought was dead," I said. "He just rejoined us about a month ago, and I haven't really taken pictures of any of the new people yet."
"I see."
She held out the album and pointed to two different pictures in the pages. One was Daryl, and the other was Merle. "Are these two brothers? The Dixons?"
"Yeah," I confirmed, but didn't get out anything else before she continued.
"You have a lot of pictures of the two of them, but I think there's more of Daryl," she accused. "Didn't you say something about you and the Dixons losing an old friend?"
"I met Daryl and Merle back in '99. We made friends with a guy named Clark a few years later, and back when we were on the farm, we ran into him and things went south," I said. "We recently found out that Clark could still be alive somewhere, though, and he's supposed to be somewhere in Virginia, so we're expecting to run into him again."
"Hmm," Deanna hummed. "We don't have any 'Clark's here, but we'll keep a look-out, I suppose."
She shut the photo album and passed it back to me. I pushed it into my bag again, keeping in mind that she still had my journal. She placed it on the coffee table in front of us, then turned back to me.
"So, you said earlier that you have a 'boyfriend'?"
"That would be Daryl," I informed her. It again occurred to me that Deanna was awfully curious about my life and personal things that didn't really matter, and though I didn't mind sharing, I didn't like that this 'interview' was just me sharing my life and me not learning anything about this place. "So... how did Alexandria start? Well, how did you get here, at least?"
"I knew you'd start asking me stuff eventually," Deanna said, snickering. "My family, me and my husband with our sons, we got here because we were on our way to Ohio. I was trying to help manage my district, but the army brought us here. They left us here and never returned. We had supplies, so we made a livable place. We've been secure behind these walls for a while."
"Were the walls here?" I asked. "Did the military have that set up when you got here?"
"No," she answered. "My husband Reg was an architect. He and our kids Spencer and Aiden started building up some walls with some supplies from a nearby construction site. More people showed up eventually, and with more help, we had a whole wall built. We don't take chances now."
"Then why bring us in?" I counteracted. "If you aren't taking chances, why trust us? We've been through hell. We could be crazy."
"But you're not," Deanna reminded me. "You've sat here for at least ten minutes now and talked to me like a friend, and I just learned your name at the beginning of this conversation. If you were crazy, you'd have killed me by now, and if not you, one of the people I interviewed before you would've done something. We're taking a chance with you and your people because we need survivors that can make us stronger."
"Trust is a tricky concept these days," I stated, recalling the same line of advice Shane had given me the day we met. "You can take every precaution physically possible, have a million plans and escape routes and think through every possibility, but sometimes, it still doesn't work. The people out there are dangerous and heartless now. It doesn't matter if you're willing to take a chance on someone you have hope for. Hope is just as tricky as trust."
"You know," she said, "Rick said something similar. He said that people out there are looking for an angle, something to take from you. He said it's all about survival."
"And he's right," I agreed.
"Are the two of you close?" Though surprised by her question, I kept my composure. She repeated herself. "Are you and Rick good friends?"
"We both joined into the group at similar times," I explained. "He found the group, and they found me a few days after that, so we've known each other a while."
"But are you close? Knowing someone and being close to someone are two very different concepts."
"We're close, yeah," I replied. "We've been through hell together at this point."
"I asked Rick about his relations with others. When I asked who he was closest to in the group, you were one of his top three," Deanna told me. "He said that out of everyone, he'd probably trust you with his life over anyone else."
He'd trust me? He'd trust me over Shane or Michonne or even his own son? That couldn't be true.
"Are you sure that's what he said?"
She nodded. "He said that he knows that you have a great judge of what's right and wrong, but you'd do absolutely anything to keep your people alive. He said that you've done it a million times in the past and doesn't doubt that you'd do it again without hesitation."
He was right. I had sacrificed myself a time or two for the group. God, when we ran into the Claimers, I was willing to reveal myself to them so Rick could make it out, and I tried to sacrifice myself days later and admitted that I had killed Lou so they'd let the others go. I was damn crazy when it came to keeping the group safe.
"That's true."
Deanna looked at the time, turning her attention away from me momentarily. She refaced me, going on. "One last question... Do you feel safe here?"
"I don't know what safety feels like."
She furrowed her eyebrows at me. "What does that mean?"
I took in a deep breath. "Growing up with the family I did, I didn't exactly feel safe in my own home. Even after meeting Daryl and Merle, I didn't really feel like I could ever stop worrying. I don't know if I've ever actually been in a place where I've had nothing to worry about."
"Maybe... maybe you will here," Deanna suggested. She stood up. "For the most part, I've given your people jobs to do around here, but I don't have a clue what to do about you yet. I'll have to get back to you on that."
"So... I'm 'in'?"
"You're all 'in' so far," she said as I also got to my feet with a bit of a struggle. "You're about the only person to actually talk to me casually, though, so I think we have a bit of a... trustful bond here."
"I guess so," I agreed. Deanna put out her hand to shake mine, and once I returned the gesture, I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder. "Nice meeting you."
"You too," she said. "Would you send in Sasha for me?"
"Yep."
I exited the house the same I had gone in, through the door leading to the porch. Once I exited, the group all looked at me at the same time. I immediately noticed Shane and Daryl were stood beside each other, having a somewhat intense conversation. They stopped only for a second to look at me before jumping back into it.
"Sasha, you're up."
Sasha began heading in as I walked down the porch, finding my way to Merle on the stairs. I sat down next to him, resting my head on his shoulder while I heard Shane spitting harsh words at Daryl. They were talking quietly, so I didn't hear what was said, but the hostile energy was unmistakable. I didn't care. I was sick of the drama with them at this point. We were adults and not damn high school kids, so I wasn't going to feed into it.
I looked around at the streets of Alexandria. It really was a nice place, and Deanna seemed like a genuinely good person. I could only hope that it was real and wasn't all part of something elaborate and negative.
*
Making my way up the stairs in the second house was a struggle. I had gotten used to the stairs in the prison, and back when we were there, it didn't take as much out of me to do it because I wasn't as big-bellied. I was six and a half months pregnant now, and the stairs in the houses were a bit steeper than the ones leading up to the top row of cells. If we were staying, I probably wouldn't be doing a whole lot of traveling between floors.
Upstairs, there were three bedrooms and a bathroom. They were all spacious and nice, and the lighting through the windows was nice, and the bathroom had functioning water. God, being in this place was like heaven compared to the shit we had dealt with in the past. I hadn't lived in this much luxury since I lived in Woodbury. The prison wasn't all that bad, but compared to this, that was like being in actual prison.
I sat down on one of the beds in a room upstairs, laying back and spreading out. I was gleeful that Shane and Daryl were searching the other house rather than fighting in front of me. I was still pissed off from earlier, and they likely didn't blame me for it. It was also weird being in a place without at least one of them, but it was even weirder to walk around without a gun of some sort. We usually had a gun on us, a pistol at least, but they had a rule in Alexandria about keeping their weapons secure. We visited a space guarded by a woman named Olivia where people had to turn in their guns. We were allowed to check them back out when we wanted, but we weren't supposed to walk around town with them. It was a smart idea, I had to admit. It prevented violence within the group, something we likely could've benefited from in the past, considering all that went down with Clark.
"You enjoyin' this place?" Merle asked me, noticing that I had stopped touring to enjoy the comfort of a good mattress for the first time in possibly 7 or 8 months.
"Hell yeah." I stretched my arms out around me. "We have two huge houses to ourselves. Three if we get along with the people next door."
"Didn't someone say there was a guy and his son living there?" Merle questioned. I nodded to confirm that he was right.
"Deanna told us before we headed out that our two houses are next door to a family of two, and I guess they're willing to share space with a couple people." I stuck my hand out, gesturing for him to pull me up. "I'm gonna go over and meet them."
"Want me to come with you?" he asked, but I shrugged.
"If you want."
Managing to get off of the bed without hurting myself, the two of us broke off for the stairs again. I wasn't worried about meeting the new people, or anyone in this place for that matter, because I had gotten along with just about everyone we met for the most part. Every new person we had come across ended up being a friend. Well, not all of them, but I got along with all of the good people we had come across.
We just reached the living room downstairs when Shane and Daryl walked through the front door together, deep in conversation. It didn't look as intense as before, but it still didn't look good. I was about sick of the drama already, though, so I didn't care to ask what they were discussing. I let them walk past Merle and me, heading to the kitchen without a word spoken between our two pairs. Once they went on, Merle looked over at me.
"What the hell was that fight between you and Shane about earlier?" he asked. "I didn't hear a damn word but you both looked pissed off and Daryl looked damn annoyed."
I thought back to it, the argument that was really nothing new at this point. It had taken place just minutes after we entered Alexandria, moments after the first person went into Deanna Monroe's house for their interview. I was sat on a porch chair beside Shane, and of course, the two of us in our own conversation just had to go wrong. It always did with us, and it probably always would.
We were waiting to be called in, both nervous and impatient at the same time. I wanted to get it over with but I also didn't want to 'audition' at all. The group was split up into little pairs and trios, all talking amongst ourselves. I didn't necessarily want to talk to Shane lately, especially after he bitched at me yesterday morning about Daryl, but sure enough, Shane was going to talk about that in specific.
"Look... I'm sorry," he said without directly addressing me. I stared ahead at the road in front of Deanna's house, unsure if I even wanted to look at him at this point.
"For what?" I knew why he was apologizing, obviously, but I wanted to know if he knew it himself.
"For... saying Daryl treats you like shit and that you two should break up," he answered, his voice a tad annoyed that he had to say it. "That was a dick move and I apologize."
"Are you sorry you said it or sorry it pissed me off?" I muttered. He scoffed.
"Darlin', I'm tryin' to apologize to you and you're blowing-"
"Don't."
I glanced up at his face just enough to see confusion in his eyes. "What? 'Don't' what?"
"Don't call me that," I murmured. I hadn't for a single second forgotten that he used to call me 'darling' more than my own name, but he hadn't called me it once in the month he had been back in the group. Hearing it from his lips was a punch to the face.
"Why not? Can't tell you your boyfriend's a dick, can't use the one nickname I ever gave you- Cory, what the hell can I do that won't set you off?"
"You can shut up for two damn minutes, and maybe that won't result in another one of our infamous battles."
He sardonically chuckled, looking up to the ceiling of the porch with the utmost irritation in his voice. "It never ceases to amaze me that you could go crazy without me and still think I'm the biggest asshole on the planet for tryin' to apologize to you."
"I think you're the biggest asshole on the planet because you left and came back and you try to act like nothing changed but you have no clue-"
"I have 'no clue'? No clue about what, huh?"
I took in a deep breath, taking a moment to carefully choose my words. In the midst of my overthinking, I caught Daryl watching the two of us fight it out a few feet from him. He had been talking to Carol before, but he was seemingly paying attention to us more than the woman talking directly to him. I looked away from him and back to Shane, spitting out words before Shane started to wonder where my brain had gone.
"You... have no clue how much things changed because you weren't there."
"What? What does that even mean?"
"It means you fucked up and you can't just fix it by coming back and pretending we're all the same people."
Shane groaned. "Here you go again with that bullshit about us 'not being the same people'. Didn't we fight about that right before I left? You said we were still the same people fightin' over stupid shit at the CDC and in the woods and that we didn't change over all that time at the farm."
I couldn't tell what shocked me more, the fact that I had been so dramatic as to shout that at him, or the fact that he remembered it in that much detail.
"We knew each other for twenty days. We didn't change into new people in twenty fucking days," I defended. "And then you left for... for what, fourteen months?"
"You're right, Cory. Sure. We aren't the same people as we were when I left, but here's the thing..." Shane sharply breathed in as if trying to calm himself down. "We're still arguing over stupid shit despite it being fourteen months since we saw each other last. We went maybe a few weeks without one of our stupid battles, and that was because we didn't have enough energy to keep it up. So you can sit and claim that I can't come back and make things go back to the way they were, but that's what's happenin' right now. We're still those stupid fucks shootin' cans to challenge each other at the farm, the same idiots screamin' at each other the same day we met-"
"Maybe this is it." I burst in to cut him off, gesturing between the two of us. "Maybe this is why Daryl hasn't said a damn word to me since you got back and why Daryl doesn't like us being friends. Maybe it's because he's sick of seeing us act like everything's back to normal, and honestly, he already started thinking you're gonna make some attempt to take me back, so maybe that's why my life's fuckin' flipped around again."
"I am tryin' to win you back," Shane said, not a second of hesitation in his voice. "I won't pretend like those feelings ever went away. I'm not gonna try to act like I don't still like you as much as I did back fourteen months ago. Hell, maybe it's more at this point. Maybe I want you more because you're not available-"
"How fuckin' sweet. You want me because you can't have me."
"No-! No, that's not what I-" He stopped himself as he looked behind me. I saw the shadow of a broad-shouldered man creeping up behind me, and before I knew it, Daryl whispered in my ear.
"Let's go."
That was it. That was the first Daryl had spoken directly to me besides in the midst of our debate about whether or not Clark was alive. 'Let's go' was what I got.
Though I was a little startled by the possessive side of Daryl, I knew that he had every right to be worried, all things considering, and I didn't want him to think for even a second that I still had feelings for Shane. I knew he thought that. Hell, he thought that back at the prison when we first got together, even. I was loyal as hell, though, especially to Daryl. Daryl was my friend before anything else, and if Daryl and I were ever going to break up, it wasn't going to be over something as stupid as Shane.
Daryl led me to the end of the porch, but Shane ignored his attempt to finish the fight and instead followed us, the three of us now away from the majority of the group. I noticed Rick, who had gone through his interview, was watching from a distance, possibly worried or scared. My eyes tore from Rick back to Shane when Shane spoke up again.
"Look, you both can hate me for whatever or push me aside any way you like, but I'm not gonna do the whole 'beating around the bush' shit we pulled at the farm," Shane declared. "I'm not here tryin' to break you assholes up, but I'm not gonna sit and act like I'm cool with-"
"You know, why even try so hard with me if we barely know each other, huh?"
My accusation was a clear reference to something he used to use all the time. He used to say in the middle of our battles that we 'barely knew each other' and that we had just met and all this bullshit about how I didn't need to fight so hard to keep him in the group because I didn't know him long enough to care. I knew things were different and that it didn't really work in this case, but the point of it was to hurt his feelings, and when I saw his eyes soften, I knew I had succeeded.
"It's not the same now," he reminded me of what I already knew. "Back when I used to say that, it was true. We met like... five days before that, so me saying that we barely knew each other was accurate. It doesn't work like that anymore."
"How is it any different now? You left for a year and you've only been back a month. We've known each other a little over a year and for the most part, I thought you were dead. If you want to get technical, we've only been in each other's lives for... maybe 50 days at most, and I promise you, more of those days were spent fighting than not."
"I thought we were over the bullshit about me leaving. I thought we got past that part."
I blew out air while covering my face in frustration, shaking my head. "That's not the damn problem. The problem's you coming back and acting like you're gonna keep running my life like you have non-stop since I met you."
Coming back to the present, I noticed Merle still waiting for a response on his previous question. He asked what the fight was about.
"It's whatever," I said, shrugging. He looked at Shane and Daryl in the kitchen still, then back at me again.
"It really doesn't seem like 'whatever'."
I stressfully shook my head. "Shane... admitted to still having feelings for me and it just kinda... pissed me off."
"Well, we all knew that," Merle pointed out. "Considerin' the way things were-"
"You don't even know the way things were," I grumbled. "You were missing during the short time-frame that Shane and I were friends."
He shrugged. "Well, when the prison went down and Walsh and I took off, we had a good bit of alone time to talk about old shit. He went on for days about how excited he was to see you again."
That didn't sound like something Shane would talk about. Shane didn't share feelings, let alone with Merle Dixon of all people. I peered over at Shane, who seemed to be looking back but quickly turned his eyes to something else. I couldn't imagine those words coming out of his mouth, but it didn't make sense for Merle to make it up.
"I doubt that."
"He told me about how you guys used to fight and then make up and so on and so forth and how you could fight about stupid shit and then turn around and be best friends right after-"
"He's just an asshole, Merle."
"Well, whether or not you want to admit it, there's somethin' there," he claimed. I scrunched up my eyebrows, almost appalled. "You can't deny that you have... somethin'."
"There's not," I disagreed, turning it back on him. "Why do you even care this much or insist that I like Shane when I've been dating Daryl for months and I'm clearly in love with him?"
Merle pressed his lips together, sighing. It was as if I had caught him in the act of some devious.
"I don't give two rats' asses about you an' Shane," Merle admitted. "I'm tryin' to make sure you don't sit and claim you love Daryl just so you can turn around and break his heart. If you're gonna do it eventually, you might as well do it sooner than later."
I blinked, almost offended. Merle also believed I was going to ditch Daryl for Shane after everything. God, I could list for hours why I'd never do that, but at this point, I found it unlikely anyone would believe me.
"I've known Daryl for over twelve and a half years. I knew him that long before I ever even figured out I liked him. Daryl and I's friendship is a million times more important to me than our relationship, so the last thing I'd ever do is ruin what we have. I've been worried from the second I felt anything for him that being with him would turn out badly, and I have not once even considered cutting things off or doing anything to end the relationship because I would never want to jeopardize nearly thirteen years of what's probably the most important thing in my life now. There's not a damn nerve in my body that's willing to risk my friendship with him."
Merle appeared astounded by the end of my declaration, but pressed his lips into a line and nodded as if approving what I had said. We were on the porch at this point, and I had nothing else to do with the house or the conversation. Merle picked up on it, glancing at the neighboring house.
"You gonna go pay a visit?"
"I'm gonna see if they're good people, maybe earn us some more space if we stay," I clarified. "If I'm not back in half an hour, come save me. "
He chuckled, knowing that there was no way I'd actually be put in danger considering my pregnancy, though we could never be too sure at this point. I took off down the porch, just on my way to the one next door when a few people emerged from the first house, the one where the majority of the group had been. A few had their eyes on me, though most just seemed curious of what I was doing rather than skeptical. Daryl and Shane were still within the second house, though, and I was too tired to worry about what they were discussing.
I knocked on the door of the neighbor's house, knowing a knock would likely be more assuring than the doorbell, and almost a second later, I heard a young boy's voice yell, "Coming!"
I could hear the footsteps of this child as they came closer to the door, but just when I expected it to open, the footsteps stopped. Rather, I heard the swivel of a curtain and jerked my head to the window beside the door with barely enough time to see a kid gaping out at me. He was gone before I could really get a good look, though something about him sent a chill through me. I could confirm once he swung the door open that the chill was a sense of familiarity.