broken claims

Part 15

"Don't go out there," he warned Beth as they ambled their way up the rickety porch steps. The field was blotted with the carcasses of old cows left to rot in the sun, mostly bone but still visible from where they laid out in the grass. "You hear?"

She nodded and opened the door so he could help haul Leigh in who pointedly refused to be carried. "I won't go far."

"You're not going anywhere. Just stay inside the house," he helpfully clarified, gesturing that she sit down. He pushed the car as far as he could, stopping once to refuel on scavenged gasoline by a pile up on the road. They were all tired. Atlanta was only visible on the road signs and they were far enough away that he could rest somewhat. Beth dropped miserably on the couch in the living room and stretched one hand to snag a farmer's almanac sitting on the table.

Somebody's old life got left behind in crocheted throw blankets and a pair of work boots sitting by the door. He investigated the house before while the girls sat in a locked car, skin itching the entire time he didn't have them in his view. He liked the look of the house, though. Boarded up windows on the lower floor blocked out most of the farm and the door was solid wood. Nothing was slipping through his guard this time.

Leigh faltered at the sight of more stairs. "No more tough girl stuff," he said quietly. "Gotta let me help now. You'll take a nose dive trying."

Sleeping in the car hadn't done much for the circles beneath her eyes. She hesitated before slumping slightly, nodding. "Sure."

She was squinting like she had a headache. He tried to be mindful of it and keep from jostling her as he managed her up the stairwell and got her into the second bedroom that was empty and clean enough. "You're fine," Daryl tried. "You just gotta catch your breath for a minute."

Leigh nodded. He sat her down on the bed and waited a moment. "Yeah. I'm fine."

It took effort to get down on his knees. The house felt unsettled and he wouldn't calm down properly until he had both girls upstairs and got himself a seat by the entrance. "I think we need to talk now. Gotta settle this."

"I'm tired."

"This can't wait."

Her eyes snapped to his and it was a glimmer of Merle's anger bottled up there. "I said I'm tired. I don't want to talk about this," Leigh bit out. One hand came up to her hair and she tugged at it hard. "I just want to sleep."

Daryl didn't know what to do. He could push and risk breaking something fragile or ease off and let rot fester. It wasn't any different than that old tree in Verna's yard. Something bad just waiting to happen. He didn't know how to be a father without ruining something. "I found some meds," he tried, pulling a bottle from his pocket and rattling it slightly. The temper switched to alarm and he backed a fraction. "They're just low grade pain killers. I know you're hurting. I can see it."

"It isn't that bad."

Easy for her to say, Daryl thought to himself, when she couldn't see how much she resembled a pin cushion. That doctor left her arms a tender mess from blood draws and injections. "These'll help you sleep."

Leigh clenched her teeth and clearly debated what kind of lie to summon. But honesty played out, shockingly, and she relented a fraction. "I don't want more medication. I still don't feel right. Steven kept drugging me and I just... I need it to stop. I want to feel normal again."

"Look at these. See 'em? No different than anything I ever kept in the bathroom cabinet back home. You'd buy a thing of these off of a shelf in any drugstore. You know they're safe."

"I don't care."

"I care," Daryl fired back, frustrated. "We can talk now or you can these damned pills and help with that pain. Only two choices you've got."