Better Angels

3. Talk is Cheap

I woke a little more than exhausted, I yawned and rubbed my eyes, but my vision only got blurrier and I groaned, rolling over a tiny bit, and gravity took place, my arms splayed at my sides, wide like bird wings as I saw flashes of biege and green until pain was everywhere. I can't remember if I screamed, or if came out as a muffled groan of discomfort. But there were sharp pains in my right calf, though I could hardly find the strength to lift myself enough to look. I tried to prop myself up on my arm, but I collapsed once again as I felt the crippling pain in my arm and wrist.

I managed to roll onto my back and glare up at the clouds, it was overcast and the branch I had been sitting on looked so far away.

"Huh...?"

I heard shuffling around then a voice in my ear.

"Jesus Christ, Aries. Did you fall out of the damned tree?"'

I grunted in pain as he helped me up into a reasonable sit, then dragged me to lean against the tree trunk. He poked and prodded at my leg and then wrist and arm, I shoved him away when I felt the pain.

I opened my eyes, sleep wearing off and the very evident pain finally came through. My ears rang and I was sore everywhere.

I looked up as he wiped his brow panickly. He stood up and paced quickly.

"Dammit, that hurts." I whispered, mostly to myself as I pinched lightly at my wrist.

I looked up at the man, the only one that volunteered for my stupid stunt, might I add, that Rick had assigned to a night in the woods. He seemed pretty chill about it, but was more excited about some nighttime walker killing than actually looking after me and conversing.

Merle didn't look like the type to care at all if someone was hurt, but he looked particualry concerned.

Earlier...

I sat and waited in the trees, until about fourty-five minutes later Rick emerged from the trees again, with to my surprise, Merle with him.

They talked quietly. And then Merle tossed his backpack down at the trunk of the tree and we didn't talk other than when he took the liberty to pitch up and small bag of food he'd gathered. Even then, I offered him a small "Thanks..."

Merle was the last person I'd expect out here, but he seemed excited enough about it that I didn't regret my decision right away. He sat there all night, shotgun lying across his lap and his handgun right beside him, among who knows how many other things in the huge bag he brought. At some point he fell asleep, and eventually I did as well.

"Daryl'l kill me, I'll tell you that right now." He stated firmly, pointing at me ad though I'd committed a crime.

"Why?" I asked in confusion... Daryl couldn't give two shits about me, let alone breathe in my direction.

"I ain't trusted much 'round the kids." he snickered nervously "I'm surprised they threw me out here without wondering if I'd give ya drugs or somethin... Daryl wouldn't be happy because, well..." he paused to smirk at me. "I'm just untrustworthy. He'd say I didn't deserve this oppertunity to prove myself yadda, yadda yadda..."

He paused and looked at me hopefully.

"Think you can hide a limp?"

I gave him a skeptical look.

"Why the hell were you sleepin' in a damn tree, anyways?" He ranted, I let him get it all out, he paced back and forth and threw his hands into the air for five minutes straight, but I wasn't really listening to what he said, but how he said it.

He pronounced everything with a southern accent like Daryl does, cutting off the ends of beginnings of words, tossing them together in an un-neat jumble, but sounds unique all the same.

He noticed me staring at him "What're you lookin' at?" He demanded, pausing mid-stride.

"You talk funny." I stated honestly, crossing my arms across my chest even though it hurt like holy hell.

He glared, but said nothing more.

There was a rustle in the trees ahead and faint voices, which I instantly identified as Rick and Daryl.

They emerged a few moments later and took in the undescribable scene before them. Me sitting on the ground crookedly while Merle paced like an anxious bastard waiting to hear the winning lotto number.

"Do I dare ask?" Rick asked emotionlessly. Daryl narrowing his eyes at his brother.

"How're things?" He asked, but from the glare he was shooting Merle, it was obviously intended for him, and him only.

"Well..." Merle paused and looked at me to see if I'd rat him out. There was really nothing to rat Merle out about, he fell asleep, so what? I'm the one who fell out of the tree and had the stupid idea to stay up there anyways.

"I fell out of a tree, you were right Rick, stupid idea." I said, sweeping the guilt away from Merle. Merle looked slightly relieved until he saw his brother glaring at him, then Merle bandished a smirk. What was up Daryl's ass today?

Rick chuckled "Well being that high off the ground should have been sign number one, anyways, are you hurt?"

Rick knelt beside me, knocking my leg a little in the movement and I jumped up, halfway to my feet before he caught me.

"That?"

I nodded, it was obvious.

"Merle, you was s'posed to protect her." Daryl grunted, looking as though he didn't care much himself either way on what happens to me.

"Well do ya know how damn hard it is ta keep some stubborn-ass bitch from fallin' out of a damn tree!?" Merle fumed, his words stung as though I'd been lashed with a whip though he glared at Daryl the entire time he said it.

"Now Merle, you remember what happened last time you got an attitude." Rick said sternly. Everyone grimaced at the memory "Lucky we got back in time." Rick added, reminding Merle of something I couldn't remember. I furrowed my eyebrows in frustration.

"Damn..." Was all Daryl muttered before stalking off into the southern woods. I looked after him while I was poked at.

"I think we should move her back to camp, let Hershel look at it." Rick said when he'd finished.

Merle didn't move, instead he stood where he had been for fifteen minutes, looking into the woods where Daryl had disappeared. The Dixon brothers fought more often then not, at least that's what I had observed in the last two days I'd spent with them.

I wondered in silence if there was something that had driven them apart. Maybe they were really close once?

"Merle." Rick called, shattering my thoughts.

Merle turned slowly and narrowed his eyes at Rick the same way Daryl does at me.

"Think you can carry her? This is your mess." Rick said.

"Actually Rick... I can take the blame for this one, Merle did nothing wrong, he just fell asleep. And even if he had been awake, there's nothing he could have done to break my fall."

Rick pursed his lips but didn't argue it, Merle walked over and knelt, scooping me up into his arms in one swift movement and walked quickly ahead of Rick back up the path.

"Thanks..." I said quietly. He jerked his head a little in response. Only thing I could figure was that he wasn't a very expressional person, emotionless and straight. Never wavering. Sometimes I wish that I was like that, too. That I didn't have so much baggage to slow me down.

I looked down at my hands, folded across my chest, small amounts of pain with every movement Merle made, my leg took most of the beating.

Finally we broke through the last of the branches and crossed the empty yard to the farm house, the first person I saw was Glenn, he looked as surprised as anyone else, I couldn't imagine why.

"Hershel!" Rick called when he followed us in the door. Tossing a few blankets off the faded couch in the living room for me to sit on, I was prepared to climb out of Merle's arms, but instead he laid me onto the couch and walked away without another word.

I sighed, feeling my own self consciousness flaring up again, eyes settled on me in confusion and curiosity. I ignored them the best I could.

Hershel was an older man, his two daughters were Beth and Maggie, he had scant white hair combed back on his head, a faint beard, as though it hadn't been trimmed in a while. He walked into the living room carrying a medical kit after Rick had briefly explained what had happened, or at least the parts he knew.

Hershel started with my ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd ever injured this ankle, in fact it had been a pain for a few years. When I was nine, I made the mistake of playing soccer at camp and kicked the ball wrong, fucked my ankle all up, now if I run and trip or land on it wrong, the sprain comes back with vengence.

Hershel asked a few questions, most about the pain, how I'd gotten it and some small talk like how many brothers and sisters I had. I answered them to my knowledge, looking out the window I wondered about my whole family. Everyone outside of my immediate. My grandma, grandpa, aunts and uncles? Had they survived, and were they ok?

Hershel then inspected my arm, it was mostly my wrist that was bothering me.

When he had wrapped them all up and was cleaning up his supplies, he gave me the verdict: A sprained ankle (What a surprise) And a broken wrist, I might possibly have fractured a few bones in my hand, but other than that, I was good.

I sighed and closed my eyes. It was stupid. Very stupid. The bet I'd made with Daryl had been a complete loss and now I'm the even more pathetic damsel in distress than before.

I was in some kind of unconsciousness when the front door slammed and my eyes flew open in alert, reaching straight for the knife in my boot, Daryl walked in and disappeared into the kitchen, strangling three skinny squirrels in a fist.

I rose my eyebrows and sat up, looking out the window above the couch to see the pallid mid-day sunlight.

I stood up though my ankle protested, I hissed a string of curselines but proceeded to move towards the front door. I wasn't planning on venturing off into the woods again any time soon.

I hobbled out the door onto the porch, hearing voices, I peeked around the house, but saw no one. My curiousity flickered with a rekindled flame as I knelt and scooped up a strudy stick off the ground and used it as my crutch, taking each step with caution as I manuevered the staircase.

Behind the house was a garage, of multiple sheds bolted together, a old Chevy truck sat outside beside it, weeds growing out of the engine.

I peeked around the house, the voices slightly louder and coming from the garage. I battled it out in my head before grunting and approaching the building, standing outside, I listened in on their conversation.

"-Now we are safe here, for now. But for how long? How long until it ends up like Hershel's and a herd sends us packing, we need to have an idea of some kind of where we are going."

I peeked in and saw them, Rick, Shane and Hershel, they sat on milk cans and crates around a barrel with some papers spread across it, Rick tapped on areas of a map, and they discussed briefly about where they should go.

I confided in myself, if they do end up leaving, and going somewhere far away, I couldn't go with them. I need to go home.

I bit my lip and thought it through. I did like this group, but there were a fucking lot of them, and I only had the buds of an idea blooming in my head. It's a possibility, but would my dad allow it? He knows we need numbers, we've got more than enough room and food for all of them. We owned a big farm thirty-two miles from town, a distance big enough to put some breathing room between us and the walkers and other survivors. A little distance from the infection.

"Hey!"

I looked up from the ground in a flash and saw Daryl a few steps behind me, obviously appoaching the moving party as well.

"You eavesdroppin'?" He asked as he got closer, not bothering to keep his voice down. He walked right into Rick's lane of sight and grabbed a fistful of my jacket and brought me to attention as well.

"Oh Daryl, you're back." Rick said with a small smile.

"Check out who I found snoopin'." Daryl said with a wicked smirk, pushing me ahead of him. I shoved him away and fixed my jacket, but he just chuckled darkly and leaned against the corridor.

"Aries? Nice of you to join us as well." Rick said, absentminded.

"What? That's it? Suddenly she's on the commitee? 'Jus like that?" Daryl asked, annoyed.

"What? It's not like she's anything of harm." Rick said.

"She has weapons!"

"Daryl, just cool it, she's fourteen, not an assassain that's gonna kill you in your sleep." Glenn said.

"She might kill your brother, though." Shane muttered, pressing his lips into a line to avoid laughing.

"What was that, shit stick?" Daryl asked angrilly, stepping closer to Shane and knotting a fistful of his shirt in his hand, glaring at his face.

"You heard me." Shane spat, shoving him, but his grip didn't falter, his knuckles tightened around the light grey fabric, until he tossed him away, the neckline of his t-shirt withered in the shape of Daryl's fist.

Shane glares and him and halfheartedly straightened his his shirt.

"Well, if you are done fighting with everyone, do you have a location to add to the map?" Rick asked, his voice full of 'Cut the crap' and authority.

Daryl cut him a glare and turned, just as he was halfway out the door, he turned halfway towards Rick "Why don't you ask miss sunshine what she thinks, she's new second command anyhow."

"You're overreacting." Rick stated, shaking his head without looking up.

"I am not overreating." Daryl stated hotly.

After Daryl had walked a considerable amount of steps from the shed, Rick muttered "He's totally overreacting."

They however did not ask me what I thought, though I was fine with that, more than fine, actually. I didn't want to have all eyes on me. I didn't know of any safe houses and hadn't been at surviving nearly as long as this group.

"Let's call it a day, we'll gather everyone tomorrow morning and make a final decision." Rick said after we sat there discussing the pros and cons of places I'd never heard of.

Maggie came out around sundown to get us for dinner, she leaned against the same wall Daryl had earlier.

She pressed her lips into a line line while the men still sat by a lantern poking at the map and writing notes on the margrins of the map.

I stood up and stretched, then walked to stand beside Maggie. We waited several minutes, but when they showed no signs of getting up, we just turned and left.

When we got in, Maggie smacked the back of Glenn's head as he stuffed a sandwich into his face.

We sat around with the other women and the men who weren't on the 'executive decision' branch. It was about five minutes later the men finally came in, shaking off snowflakes from their jackets, I hadn't realized that it had begun to snow.

I looked out the window in wonder, icy speckles fell from the dark sky and landed on the splintering windowsill.

"Damn storm came outta nowhere." Daryl muttered, tossing his leather jacket over the back of his chair and sitting at the table. The pulled up their chairs and passed around what food they had, I looked up from my lap, and saw something that I haven't seen in a long time.

They smiled, well most of them did. They passed around plates and swapped war stories, in some way they looked like a big assorted family. My family had been similar, once. You laughed and talked, and stuffed your face.

Now these days, I'd look up and see the silence tearing a hole through them, we ate by lantern, a half burned out candle that was less than five minutes from it's final flame. The one sound was of forks scraping against paper plates and no one talked, smiled, or did much of anything. We just stuck together and watched each other's backs.

I realized the difference between the two... My family, and this family. I debated back and fourth in my head, it'd be something, that's for sure. Speak up or shut up, that was my decision...

I looked at each of their faces and then thought of my family and if they'd relate and get along.

Daryl and Merle? Could they have a civil conversation with my dad?

Well... They pretty much keep to themselves, so maybe they wouldn't be too much trouble. What about Rick? Shane, Dale and Lori? Yeah, definitely.

Carl? Him and my brother would hit it off fine. I thought about everyone else in this group. And I smiled, looked up.

"Hey guys, actually... I know of the perfect safe house."