(1) Vita Brevis (D. Dixon)

Chapter Ten

It is dark when Catelyn returns to the farm, trudging up the road towards the farmhouse, her bow clenched in her hand. She should have turned around earlier, but the thought of being here was not as appealing as being out in the woods with the threat of walkers. Walkers at least make sense to her, they have one motivation, eat others, but humans, humans confuse her, and scare her. Because she never knows what is going on inside their heads, she has no idea what their motivations are. She glances over at where they have set up camp, not inside the house, but close by. The RV has been parked up to act as a sort of lookout post into the woods, and a number of tents set up between it and the house. Marie stands outside of a tent, her arms folded over her chest, but her thumbnail between her teeth as she worries, though that softens when she notices Catelyn, in one piece. She waves her daughter over and Catelyn sighs before heading that way. She doesn't like the idea of them all being pushed together in this sort of camp set-up, there is no choice to be away from them. To place some distance between what she perceives as a threat. It is not going to make her feel safer being forced close to them, and that's not going to make it safer for them either. If she was to snap. Daryl is sitting on the ground outside of a tent, carving up something with his knife, he glances up at Catelyn as she walks past him and his tent.

"Did you find her?" Daryl asks her, Catelyn snorts.

"Yes, I just left her out there" She snarks and shoots him a look before she turns her attention to her mother. "Can we leave now?"

"Cate" She scolds quietly and shakes her head. "When we find Sophia, we can talk about leaving" Catelyn rolls her eyes. She knows what they are going to find, and it is not going to be Sophia anymore. She also knows her mother won't let them leave now that she is back around Rick and Shane. Catelyn might just have to consider going off by herself. She doesn't want to leave her mother with these people, but she doesn't think she can be here, she doesn't think she can ever relax enough to trust them. That's going to put her on edge all the time. Rick approaches the two of them, specifically Catelyn, causing her to pull a face. Marie touches her arm and heads into the tent at their side. She hates that her mother is that willing to leave her alone with a man, considering, even if that man is technically her father.

"Hershel wants us to hand over our weapons," Rick tells her, Catelyn turns a look at him as if it is the most stupid request ever. It is. They are living in the damn apocalypse with walkers running around trying to eat them and Hershel wants them to hand over the only things they have to protect themselves. And Catelyn has no intention of agreeing to this demand. She needs her bow. It's a safety net for her. To give it up will be to give up a part of herself.

"Well, that's not going to happen" She argues, her fingers tightening around her bow. "I don't trust any of you, there is no way in hell that I am handing over my only protection"

"If you don't agree to this, then we will have to leave" Rick argues. Catelyn's lips twitch into a smirk. Because she wants to leave. She wants to take her mother and flee this whole situation. She doesn't want to be around these people. And he sees it too now. Rick steps closer to her. "We need to be here" Rick argues softly. "It's safe and we can spend more time looking for Sophia"

"Why?" She asks him. "She's probably already long dead...."

"We don't know that" Rick argues, Catelyn snorts and shakes her head.

"Look around you, we're already dead, it's only a matter of time before it just catches up to us" She steps closer to Rick. "I was seven years old when you just...." She clenches her jaw, getting angry at him, and even getting angry at herself here. "Whatever it is that you're hoping to find here with me, it's not going to happen" She warns him. "I'm not a child and I won't be ordered around by someone I barely know who thinks he has the right to tell me what to do....you or him..." She nods towards the farmhouse. "Maybe you should be asking why someone, in the middle of a damned apocalypse, with walkers around every corner, wants you to give up your weapons?" She points out and then ducks into the tent, leaving Rick to consider that. She is right, she knows she is. There is no reason, anyone with a brain, would ask people to give up their weapons when they can be ambushed at any moment. Unless something more is going on.

......

Later in the night, Catelyn has found herself unable to sleep. Of course, she can't sleep. This whole place is just uncomfortable for her. Too many people. Too many unknowns. So instead of laying on a lumpy ground, she sits in the grass, staring out at the trees, her bow resting in her lap. She lets the warm evening wind blow over her, ruffling her hair a little. It's quiet. Really quiet. She supposes that comes from the end of the world. Nothing left. Nothing to make noise. It's just silence. Almost anyway. Behind her, she can hear footsteps in the grass approaching her. Heavy boots, but she gets the feeling they are making their footsteps louder, so she will hear them coming. That obviously means it is not someone trying to sneak up on her. It's Daryl who sits at her side, doesn't say anything, just sits next to her, whilst still giving her some distance. She turns her head to look at him, to find that he's already watching her back. There is something in his eyes. Something that tells her that he knows exactly what she has been through. She's not sure she likes that. She turns and looks back out at the trees, ignoring that look. She doesn't want the world to know what she's been through. It is her trauma, and she has to deal with it alone. She cannot take the looks of pity and pain that come from other people as if they understand what it was like. They don't. They didn't go through it, she did. She suffered and they do not get to judge her for it. Her fingers tighten around her bow and she swallows a little. Fighting off an emotional barrage that threatens to consume her. Not here. Not in front of him.