Stumbling upon Alexandria, Reese recounts the events up until now. Meeting Rick's group at the prison, scavenging, sickness, and attacks while creating an attachment to the stoic Bowman.
Slowing to a stop at the daycare’s playground. The front gate rusted to bits; the swing set, monkey bars, and jungle gym were unrecognizable with plant growth.
“You a mom?” The archer asks out of the blue. She ignores him. “You ain’t gotta tell me, but I doubt you knew where this daycare was, and what’s a swoggle off the top of your head if you weren’t?”
She stops side eyeing him.
“Swaddle.” She corrects.
“See.” He points out. “You know stuff.” He lets his crossbow lead the way. Her cuffed arm followed each sharp movement.
Breaking a window and climbing in, she leads the search, following his eyes to a wall covered in hands cut from construction paper. There were names written on each and every one of them. Tearing her eyes away, she tugged on their linked wrists, drawing his attention to her. Kneeling in front of cabinets. Stuffing diapers, pacifiers, and bottles into their backpack. Checking the other rooms, they found one lined with cots on one side and cribs on the other. Peeking into one of them, she staggered back at the sight of red and the buzzing of flies. She moved into the kitchen to scavenge, suddenly losing touch with the world around her. Sounds were muffled, and touch was numb. She closed her eyes tightly as she focused on her breaths.
“Not now.” She pleads her breathing picking up, opening her eyes, vision becoming dull and hazily. She breathed in through her nose and shakily through her mouth.
“Hey!” Daryl calls.
Placing a hand on her shoulder, she flinches away from the touch, her hand unsheathing her knife and aiming it at his throat. Breathing heavily and glaring into his eyes. “Don’t be stupid.” He warns grabbing his hunting knife preparing to end her if need be. Her grip trembled her eyes unfocused. His brows furrowed seeing quite the opposite person who jumped him armed with only a shoelace. Coming back to reality, she lowers her blade. “You wanna enlighten me to what the hell that was!” He demands from her side as she reaches up, looking through the cabinets.
“You startled me.” She answers, finding two containers of powdered formula.
“Bullshit!” He snaps eyes glancing at the knife still in her hand snatching it from her grasp. “I don’t need no crazy bitch around my people with a knife.” He sneers, waving the blade in her face before tucking it into his belt.
“Ya’ best be careful what you say to me, Hick.” She hissed, earning a scowl from the man.
“Or what?” he grunts.
“Leash you up again. Make you my bitch.” She taunts, earning a low growl from the back of his throat, causing an ear-to-ear grin to play at her lips. Amused that it was that easy to get under his skin. Hearing a clattering coming from a broom closet behind them stealing their attention the argument for the moment was forgotten.
Handing her his flashlight, which she takes with her unshackled hand, she lifts her other arm to aid in Daryl lifting his crossbow and lining the crosshairs up to his eye. Mouthing a countdown, she threw the door open, revealing an opossum. It looked to them bearing his teeth, giving a hiss, and earning an arrow right through the skull, pinning its lifeless body to the wall.
“Hello, dinner.” He goes yanking the bolt from the wall holding it up like a prize.
“You’re disgusting.” She grumbles.
“And You’re a pain in my ass, Lil’ Mama, but look where we are,” he returns. Walking back to the window, she looks back at the wall of hands.
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“Wait.” She breathes just above a whisper. If the air wasn’t so silent, Daryl might not have heard her. She steps over to the wall, pulling him along as she kneels, looking at the green and blue hands. Peeling them from the wall with tender care so as not to rip the faded paper. Folding them up, she tucked them into her pocket, avoiding the ever-watching eyes of the archer as they made their way back to his bike.
~.~
“You lied to me.” Deanne tilts her head with a solemn smile. Reese looks at the woman with furrowed brows. “You weren’t a nobody. You were a mother.” She corrects.
“Tomas was arrested and served almost every three months,” she exhales. “I’d foolishly sent him letters, called, and even visited him when he told me to.” She furrows her brow, angry at her past self. She hated the meek, soft-spoken woman who didn’t stand up for herself. “Having to take two kids on two hour long bus rides to a prison.” she breathes a heavy sigh. “I never brought them to see him. Deep down, I knew. I didn’t want to expose them to his...” there was no word to describe it.
His lure, his spell, and his curse are what make you think you deserve the emotional and physical beatings.
“I didn’t want them to be trapped in the same cycle I was in,” she admits honestly, citing the only thing from her past she was proud of. Protecting her boys. “So I would drop them off at the daycare, go see Tomas, make up some excuse of why I didn’t bring them, take his verbal beating, apologize, then go pick up my boys and listen to their day on the way home.”
