Chapter Text
“Ain’t nobody gonna believe it, that’s why.” Daryl’s signs broke down as his voice rushed past in frustration.
Connie put her face in her hands as a half dozen voices rose in protest, as if relieved to be able to shut it all out.
Couldn’t the rest of them see how stupid this whole idea was… For what, some fucking bread?
“You’re already together, what’s one little omission.” The irony of Father Gabriel advocating this wasn’t lost on Daryl.
If they went in there and got caught, who knew how much danger she would be in. He wouldn’t risk that.
Connie looked up, beseechingly. He signed an emphatic no.
“Daryl you’re the best chance we’ve got,” Aaron said. “The two of you are resourceful, observant, and people will be more open because of her disab—”
“Superpower,” Kelly interrupted.
Daryl couldn’t believe Connie’s sister was in on this too. He’d expected her to have a little sense, she was protective enough of Connie. But she’d arrived with the Oceanside group, full of stories of this Caravan and their wonders, and apparently left common sense on the beach.
“Superpower,” Aaron agreed, his prosthetic hand resting on the table.
“Just go in, stay a couple of days, get what you can and get out,” Kelly said. “Nobody gets hurt. Easy. It’s a bunch of old people.”
“Nuh-uh.” Daryl said, his accent thickening with anger. “I ain’t takin her in there—” He gave up signing, making sure she could see his face well enough to read his lips. “What the hell do we even need pretend for?”
“They’ll trade with outsiders, but only married people travel with them.” Kelly shrugged. “It’s a thing. I don’t know. Maybe it’s some weird survival tactic. Everybody has their own rules. You don’t have to agree to play along.”
“Maybe it’s some creepy cult bullshit,” Daryl shook his head. “One step off from wearing skins or carvin shit in people’s foreheads. Marriage ain’t nothing no more anyway.”
He figured out he’d gone too far when Connie lurched to her feet, slapping her palms on the table to get everyone’s attention. She looked at Kelly, pointing to Aaron and her hands flew.
Kelly interpreted. “Forget it. It was a dumb idea.” Kelly signed her name, a plea clear on her face. “But you said you thought it would work… and they have—”
“I don’t care what they have.” Connie’s hands slashed decisively through the air, her mouth a hard line. “Daryl doesn’t want to do it, we don’t do it. Find somebody else.”
She stormed away. Now everybody was looking at him, glaring. Even Carol crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head.
“What now?” He wanted to go after her, but not until he’d put this thing to rest once and for all. “Life doesn’t work like that anymore. If it ever did. You left the king. I didn’t see y’all signing no papers for a divorce.”
”That’s not the point, Daryl.” Carol sighed as if she’d reached the end of a very long line and was now considering stringing him up with it.
He quit in frustration.
Carol found him on the kids playground a half hour later on his third cigarette. She snagged it, taking a drag. He reached but she kept it out of reach.
“It’s enough you didn’t want to do it, did you have to hurt her feelings like that?” Carol frowned.
“I’m trying to keep her safe.” Daryl snorted. “Rick was right, them assholes out there are dangerous. They made it this long, who knows what they had to do to survive, what they’d be willing to do. What do you think they’re gonna do when they find out we’re faking?”
“We kept Eugene, lying little piece of shit,” Carol said, sensibly. “And they won’t find out. All you have to do is go in there and be a little more—you know—newlywed like.”
Daryl choked on his next drag and rubbed at his temple.
“You two are so sweet on each other it gives me a toothache—well you were,” Carol sighed. “Now looks like you’re sleeping alone tonight.”
Daryl followed her gaze.
Connie was leading the little paint horse that she’d come over from Hilltop on with the post out of the stables and to the gate.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” He leaped up, racing down the street.
He was too old for this shit, running after girls once they realized what a waste he was. Hadn’t he learned his damn lesson in junior high.
It’s about time that fine looking piece of ass gave you your papers. Merle’s ghost said. It’s been months and you can’t even slip her some sausage. She’s practically begging for it. What the fuck kind of man are you? Pussy.
Daryl pounded his temple with his fist. “Shut the fuck up.”
Her back was too him as she tightened her girth and checked the mail pouch. The guy on the gate was busy keeping watch for walkers.
“Dog. Get Connie.” He whistled, and Dog appeared around the corner, launching himself toward her.
Her horse shied. Settling the animal and fending off Dog slowed her down. He caught up, collared dog and tapped her shoulder. She spun on him. Hurt, Carol had said. She looked like it. Her eyes tight in the corners.
“Didn’t mean it like nothin’. Just trying to prove to those assholes—”
Her hands flew. “If you don’t want me like that? Fine. But did you have to say it in front of everybody?”
He couldn’t keep up with her when she signed this fast. Fuck. It was no good telling her to repeat herself now. She’d probably crack him over the head with the club on her saddle and ride over him on that horse. All he caught for sure was that last word.
“Who cares what those assholes think,” he blurted out. “All I want is to keep you safe. Not risk you for some stupid shit—what, recipes?”
She set her mouth in a long line. “I shouldn’t be surprised. You don’t even want…”
Oh he’d missed something alright, something important. She turned toward the horse. He grabbed her arm.
“Nah, you finish that.” He said. “What don’t I want?”
“To fuck me,” she said, the sign crude and her expression disgusted. “I’m damaged goods. Not even good enough to screw. Why would you pretend to make any sort of commitment to me.”
She mounted and turned toward the gate, as he scrambled to interpret the signs.
Kelly jogged up.
“You catch all that?” Daryl asked.
She winced. “Yeah, sorry man. I wasn’t trying—”
“S’okay,” he waved her on. The gate was closing, in just about every way. He needed to do something, quick. “What all’d she say.”
Kelly stared at him.
“She gets going real fast when she’s all fired up,” he pleaded.
Based on Kelly’s expression this was going to be awkward. He sighed, waved a hand impatiently.
Kelly cleared her throat, tried to keep her face neutral but she could barely make eye contact as she repeated signs, intepreting. At the end she grimaced. “So you two aren’t actually…?”
Daryl ignored her, stalking toward the garage.
Is that what Connie thought, really? He didn’t want her?
Merle added unhelpfully. Bet she’s wondering if you’re waiting for someone who ain’t broke in the head.
Damaged goods. Jesus, the fact that she’d made it this long without half the damage the Alexandria gang had seemed to carry made him wonder if being deaf really was a fucking super power. She was the least damaged person he’d met since this whole shitshow started.
He hooked his bow on the bike rack and hopped astride, firing it up.
He barely paused enough for the gates to open.
She must have been busting ass on that little horse. He was well out of sight of the gates and down the road with no sight of her. He was so busy looking ahead he almost missed the branch in the road. Thankfully he wasn’t going fast when he hit the wet leaves. His slide was slow motion, plenty of time to roll free unharmed, mostly.
He fingered the hole in his newly repaired shirt and groaned.
A moment later came an answering groan from the trees. Walkers. His bow was strapped to the bike. He didn’t even have a knife on him. Stupid. He’d run out of Alexandria with half a brain and now he was going to die.
Not today.
He and Connie still had a couple things to work out first.
He grabbed a branch off the broken limb. He stabbed the first two, but the wet branch broke on the third.
Fuck.
Two more staggered out of the culvert. He backed toward the bike.
He reached it just as Connie ran around the corner, slingshot drawn. They took the last two together, bolt and ball bearing.
Dog jogged around the corner, whining.
“Where the hell you been?” He shouted at the dog.
Connie turned on him. He focused on getting his bike upright and checking for damage.
“Horse?” He signed finally.
“Tied up down the road. She doesn’t like the smell of walkers.”
He fell in beside her, wheeling the bike along. He waited until she was looking at his face again before he spoke. “It’s just a terrible idea. Too many ways things can go wrong out there, just the two of us.”
Her face fell a little. She reached into her pocket, so she could explain something bigger than his vocabulary could handle. He waited, leaning over to look between her scrunched-up brow and her scribbling. She handed it over to him and continued to her mount.
I know it’s stupid. The world is so dangerous now. We’re at war with people wearing walker skins. We could die any day. But something has to keep us human. I’m not saying it’s for us, you and I are both a little broken, aren’t we? I know I’m not the kind of woman you’d want to tie yourself to. It’s just the thought that you can’t even pretend for a few days, to help the community that hurts.
“Ah fuck,” Daryl jogged up the road after her, pushing the bike.
He’d hurt her. Connie, who was always so conscious of his needs for space, for distance, for patience. Who didn’t seem to care what he smelled like or that he signed worse than a nine-year-old.
He caught the horse’s reins and realized immediately with both hands full he wasn’t signing shit. The horse was freaking out at the smell of the walkers and the motorcycle, and he was going to drop his bike or the notebook.
“Jus wait, ok.” He said. One thing at a time. Bike. Kickstand. Notebook. Horse. He could do this. “Dog, guard.”
She signed slowly for his benefit. “It’s ok. Never mind. I’ll just head back tonight though. I’m tired and if I leave now, I can make it before dark. We can talk more later. You and me.”
He had the distinct impression later meant never, but he wasn’t going to argue the point.
“Nah, too many walkers on the road,” he said. “Come back to Alexandria for the night. Kelly and the Oceanside gang leave tomorrow.”
She stared at him for a long moment, then gathered the reins, nodding. “Kelly?”
“You gonna miss time with her?” He’d use whatever it took to get her back.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t wanna talk anymore.”
He held up his palms. “Ok. No more talking. I’m shit with that anyway. Obviously. Head back. I’ll just draw off any stragglers and I’m right behind you.”
He waited until hoofbeats clopped down the road toward Alexandria.
Dog whined.
“Go on then, traitor.” At his bike he grabbed a kitchen timer from the saddle bag and wound it up, pitching it into the trees. Then he started his bike and hauled ass after her.
He ditched the bike in the garage, ignoring Aaron’s question about what happened to him and it. He jogged to the barn, snatching a daisy out of a planter box on the way.
Kelly waved at him from the porch of the house the Oceanside group had been put up in, signing thanks.
“Not fixed yet,” he signed back.
She rolled her eyes but gave him a thumbs up. “Good fucking luck.”
In the barn, that horse was gonna be spotless by the time Connie finished with all those angry brushstrokes. He was surprised dirt didn’t run screaming. The horse looked pleased as punch. Even pissed off, she could make somebody happy.
It flicked an ear his direction so he knew she knew he was there, but she kept knocking dirt from that horse’s hide like it being there was an insult.
He tapped once, sighing.
She looked over her shoulder, one brow up.
“Let’s do it,” he said. “I can be a decent fake husband. How’s this shit go?” He hitched up his pants and went down on one knee and held out the flower.
Her eyes went wide.
“I’ll make you proud.”
Connie set her hands on her hips and glared at him.
He glared back. “What’s wrong now, woman?”
She shook her head, gritting her teeth. For a minute he thought maybe she’d take a swing. Instead she snatched the flower and stuck it in her horse’s halter.
“Fine.” She turned her back on him, went back to brushing.
He hitched himself off one knee, feeling like a ripe idiot. Then she bent down to pick up the horse’s back hoof and he got a perfect view of her small round ass. His cock, not paying any attention to the hot water they’d landed in went immediately hard.
Traitor.
When she looked up to find him staring, she frowned.
“Right,” he tore his gaze away. “Shower. Food. Let’s get those fools together and figure out what the plan is after dinner. Shouldn’t let them get too far before we catch up, right?”
Which is how, two days later they found themselves riding tandem on his cruiser, headed down the road chasing a Caravan.