the claimed child-the walking dead

chapter ten//the unsafe feeling festers and grows

walking around the town with rick in uniform held a feeling that lay over everyone. maybe it was indescribable, to these people, to have a police officer walking around in their midst ready to lay down the law after years of living differently, with less rules. of course, who's to say which group it was more odd for-alexandria, or the people who followed rick. the latter had been out in the wild, with unrestrained borders. they had killed, plenty of times. tilly herself stared down at rick making his casual rounds, her skin sweaty and hot from laying on the roof-which felt like sandpaper against her belly. she had gotten in trouble just last week when daryl found her open window, and he grunted, calling her back inside and scolding her lightly. she had only blinked at him, and he had to hope the words he spoke sunk in before he left her alone in her room, closing the door behind him. he didn't know how in the world to parent anyone, let alone a mute, abused girl. she was such an odd human being. yesterday, he had walked into the house after a couple of hours of hunting, finding her sitting criss cross apple sauce on the marble counter of the kitchen, smoking one of his cigarettes. it was something she had tried before, from joe. he had practically shoved the damn thing in her mouth, laughing and telling her to inhale. he had snorted with glee when she coughed until she puked up the rabbit she'd had for breakfast that day. upon finding the girl, smoking on the counter in nonchalance, daryl had pried the cigarette from her lips, dropping it onto the floor and crushing it between his boot. "not good for you. no more of that shit." was all he had said. the girls skinny shoulders rose and fell in a shrug, the clearest of an answer he'd had from her, about anything. 

she still refused to wear shoes-although kindhearted townsfolk continuously dropped them off in boxes on their porch. they sat, untouched, in a neat, organized line in the closet beneath a row of dresses and collared shirts. sneakers, sandals, even some proper little heels and ballet flats. 'hell no', tilly thought, every time she saw them. she was nobody's princess. 

she narrowed her gaze against the sun, shimmying backwards out of sight when she caught sight of daryl crossing the road and heading towards the home. she wasn't fond of being scolded by him, although she had to admit he was kinder than joe, of that she was sure. her attention wandered, feeling a sudden sticky substance between her thighs, and she scrunched her brows in confusion, reaching to find a red pool in her underwear. she felt faint-oh god, she must be dying. she hiccupped, panic setting in, and she crawled on all fours towards her window, slinking back inside. she heard daryl enter the house, boots heavy on the floor, the sound of his crossbow settling against the table. "i brought lunch." daryl called up to her, not waiting for a response. he rummaged in the kitchen, grabbing his skinning materials from the cupboard where the broom, dust pan and cleaning supplies were stored. it was a good spot for hiding-tilly had noted it as soon as she made acquaintances with the home. she had poked her nose inside the small space, sneezing when a bout of dust flew at her and tickled her nose. now, she crept down the stairs, trying not to make a sound-her tiny toes taking the steps carefully. daryl's back was too her, as he muddled with the hunting and skinning supplies. she gazed through the window, at the squirrels lined up on the porch. she took a deep breath, before launching herself from the stairs and towards the door knob. just as her spindly legs reached the door and her hand closed on the knob, she felt her shoulder being gripped and pulled back. she flinched, twisting away and bounded to the table, gripping the corner so hard her knuckles turned white. "why you running? i told you already-ya ain't gotta sneak food." daryl shook hair from his eyes, wiping his dirty hands on his grease stained pants.

         he didn't mention her flinching-just because she had willingly jumped into his arms in a life or death situation before didn't mean she would always want his touch. just because she trusted him the most out of everyone didn't mean she still wasn't wary. "what's wrong with you? why are you standing like that?" he narrowed his gaze, observing the odd way she stood, knees crossed as if to cover herself. then he saw it-little drops of blood, dripping from between her legs, up under her dress. he blew out a breath of surprise. "jesus. oh." tilly was shaking, tears welling in her eyes, and her stomach rumbled loudly in the silence. daryl grunted, shaking his head, stomping out the door and saying he'd be right back. 

she was still standing there ten minutes later when daryl returned, with maggie in tow. "hey, sweetheart." maggie knelt onto her knees, holding out some thick cotton underwear and something else-small and discreet, wrapped in orange sheeting. "take this upstairs. put on the underwear and lay this inside. it keeps the blood from leaking." maggie murmured gently. tilly gazed fiercely at the woman, wondering how she could think this was normal. she seemed unsurprised, and...prepared? "didn't your mama ever teach you about womans things?" maggie tilted her head, getting only a scrunched brow in response from tilly. she sighed. "right. this is normal. you're not sick, or dying. it happens once a month-it's called a period." maggie explained. daryl coughed into his arm, turning red in the background. maggie stood, beckoning the girl to follow her upstairs. she would need more help getting adjusted to this whole bleeding once a month thing, the woman was realizing. the small child followed, walking with her knees bent at such an angle that daryl thought she looked like a bird. 

tilly was settled at the kitchen table, taking some crayons and sharpening them in the cheese grater she had discovered in the second drawer under the sink. she was working especially hard on fixing up the dark blue one, when she heard shouts out in the street, and they didn't sound like it was anything good. she tiptoed to the door, turning the handle, trying to be brave even though her hands were shaking. onto the porch she went, freezing when she saw what all the commotion was-it was rick, rick fighting dr. pete on the asphalt ground. they were both bloodied, breathing heavily with sweat and anger. "rick, stop it!" deanna shouted. "or what?" rick pulled out his gun in one swift movement, pointing it up and around. "you gonna kick me out?" he heaved, blood dripping down his face. the members of alexandria looked sick to their stomachs, the smallest bit of violence like a powder keg gone off in their community, reminding them that life was not normal anymore, no matter how hard they tried to pretend it was, with their parties and tall walls. "you still don't get it. none of you do!" rick yelled. tilly flinched-she trusted rick, knew he was right, but she had to admit, she was scared. he continued, raising his voice and waving his gun around, until michonne rammed her foot into him, knocking him down and out cold on the ground. tilly's chin wobbled, and she turned around and ran-back into the house, wondering where daryl was, probably in the woods somewhere, and wanting-for the first time in months-for her papa.