My Brothers And Sisters In Arms - (TWD FanFiction) [ON HOLD]

Sweaty Quarry Water

Harper

The following day I knew I was still not anywhere near as calm as I should be to interact with anyone. So, sensibly, I decided I'd stay tucked up in the sheets and hibernate the day away.

"Hey sweet stuff, guess who got ya a little extra breakfast after ya didn't eat anythin' yesterday?" I groaned. Making it known I wasn't in the mood to tolerate this asshole right now. "Ya still pissed? Damn, woman, yer really givin' yerself a hard time aren't ya?"

I didn't answer. Merle sighed.

"Silent treatment? Alright. Enjoy hibernatin' like some damn grizzly bear." With that, his footfalls faded away out of the RV. Thank you, God, for your undeserved mercy.

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Harper

I'd successfully spent most of the day wrapped up in the comfort of the sheets, staring the bastard of the Peletier family down from the window of the RV when a set of footsteps alerted me to the fact I had company.

Light tread, steps not placed carefully -- it's not one of the Dixon's -- distance between footsteps is even, so the culprit is not a young child, feet are placed uncertainly from what I can tell if the constant shifting and the creaking of that one floor panel they're standing on -- this person is scared of their own shadow. It's Carol. Only she walks like that. But why is she coming to talk to me? I failed her. Me. She doesn't know me well enough for it to be just a friendly chat she wants either.

I kept my back turned to her. "How can I help, Carol?" I asked, doing my damndest to keep my voice as even as it'd go.

"How'd you know it was me?" She squeaked, apparently, I'd scared her.

"Walk pattern," I answered simply.

"You're very clever, Harper," I grunted in response. "Oh come on, don't do a Daryl on me." I snorted. Okay, that was a good one, pretty lady. When I didn't respond verbally beyond that, she continued. "Y'know, I don't blame you."

A confused frown on my face, I finally turned, facing her. "It's not your fault. You didn't make him do it, did you? So you've got nothing to blame yourself about. You let him out of your sight for barely a second and he--" She paused. She didn't want to say it, that alone told me she still cared for her captor.

"You still care about him." The confusion in my voice was palpable.

"He's my husband. Of course, I care about him." That's a lie if I ever heard one. You don't have to be in love to marry someone, and you don't have to be in love with the one you're married too. 'Specially if he's an asshole. Carol continued on the track she was on before I interrupted her. "It wasn't your fault, Harper. You've done a lot more than anyone else in camp has done. For that, I actually think you deserve to let out a bit of that anger. In fact, I'm surprised you've controlled it was well as you have." I blinked at her. Really? That's what she thinks?

A cheeky look came into her eyes. "And, uh, as you've probably noticed, he's gotten cockier since you have held back from your obvious urge to punch him. I think, personally, you should let him get a little cockier before you strike, but you pick your moment." She's giving me full permission to clock her husband? Now if that isn't the definition of unexpected, I don't know what is.

"I'll settle for staring him down for now. I'm thinking the murderer's eyes will keep him at bay for at least another two weeks."

And it did.

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Harper

Two Weeks Later.