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"To Live Again"

Discussion in 'The Walking Dead Fan Fiction' started by Rapscallion, Apr 30, 2014.

  1. Rapscallion

    Rapscallion Well-Known Member

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    Daryl began to stir awake, and he moaned as he blinked his eyes open and the blurry image above him focused into a beautiful woman with pale skin, blue eyes, and short, grey, tousled hair.

    Carol.

    "Hey," Daryl grinned.

    "Good morning," Carol smiled.

    Carol lowered her head, kissed Daryl, and pulled away. Daryl wrapped his arms around Carol's lower back, and they gazed at each other for a few moments.

    Suddenly, Daryl grinned and said, "Elysium."

    Carol blinked and tilted her head in confusion. "What?"

    "You ever see Gladiator?" Daryl asked, "Russell Crowe plays a Roman general, and before a cavalry charge he tells his men, 'If you find yourself alone, ridin' in the green fields with the sun on your face, don't be troubled. For you are in Elysium, and you're already dead!'"

    Carol huffed in amusement. "So now this place is heaven?"

    Daryl grinned as he raised his right hand and cupped Carol's cheek. "Could be."

    Carol smiled again and she softly tangled the fingers on her right hand in Daryl's long, dirty hair. They were quiet for a few moments until Carol said reluctantly, "It's almost dawn."

    Daryl grumbled in agreement. He placed his hands on Carol's upper arms, signaling they had to get out of bed. Carol nodded and sat up as the blankets pooled around her waist. Daryl sat up, slipped his arms around Carol, and pulled her into an embrace. They pulled apart slightly, kissed, and moved towards the edge of the bed. Daryl put his feet on the cold floor, but Carol tucked her legs underneath her. Daryl looked down at the condom on his *****, and blushing, peeled it off and tossed it at the waste basket. Next, Daryl pulled the blankets free, and threw them over his and Carol's shoulders. Carol smiled and slipped her arm around Daryl's. Daryl looked at Carol, and huffed in amusement.

    "You good?" Daryl asked.

    "Gotta be," Carol answered.

    The two sat together, fondly remembering last night's love making, and wishing they didn't have to leave the room. Daryl looked at the window, and saw the gray light was slowly getting clearer and brighter.

    "Thank you," Carol said, as she looked at the floor.

    Daryl, caught off guard by Carol's words, twitched his head slightly. "For what?" he asked.

    "For setting this room up, having the courage to tell me how you feel, and thinking I'm...attractive."

    "Stop puttin' yourself down," Daryl ordered as he gently nudged Carol.

    "I can't help it," Carol answered, still looking down at the floor. "My mother always said I was plain, my father always warned me I was going to be an old maid, and he introduced me to Ed..."

    Carol sniffled, and Daryl watched as she wiped away her tears with her fingertips and raised her head up.

    "I didn't love him, I've told you that. He certainly didn't love me. I was...content that a man was willing to spend his life with me. Then he hit me for the first time..." Carol shook her head with regret and her left hand adjusted the blankets across her shoulders.

    "He'd beat me for stupid reasons, sometimes for no reason at all, and when it was over he'd shout that I deserved it. After a while I believed it. I gave him the best years of my life and he treated me like a dog. The one good thing I got from all that heartache was Sophia, and...I lost her."

    "That wasn't your fault. I should've run after her," Daryl said comfortingly.

    Carol leaned into Daryl's side, and said nothing.

    Daryl looked at Carol's right arm looped around his left arm, and then he took a deep breath, let it out, and looked straight ahead.

    "My first memories are of my dad puttin' the belt to Merle. I didn't understand why, but years later, when my mom died, he started beatin' Merle harder. Then Merle left and I was the one gettin' beat. I didn't wonder why he'd beat us anymore. By then, it was just a part of life."

    Carol looked at Daryl. "We're not such an odd pair, are we?"

    Daryl looked at Carol. "Hell yeah."

    They smiled and kissed.

    "We've got to go, before the others wake up and send out a search party," Daryl quipped.

    Carol nodded sadly. Daryl slipped his left arm free from Carol's grip, slipped the bottom blanket around his waist and stood up. Carol followed Daryl's example by wrapping the top blanket around her body like a cloak. Daryl offered Carol his hand, she accepted, and he gently pulled her off the bed and on her feet.
     
    #621 Rapscallion, Dec 23, 2016
    Last edited: Dec 25, 2016
  2. Rapscallion

    Rapscallion Well-Known Member

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    Daryl, now wearing a white cotton bathrobe, sat in a chair beside the doorway to the infirmary's shower room. He had a cigarette between his lips and took a drag and blew out the smoke as the sounds of a shower running echoed behind him. At Daryl's side was a TV dinner tray, with a folded white bath towel, and Carol's Colt Detective Special atop it. Also on the tray was a ceramic ashtray. Daryl took a drag on his cigarette and looked to his left at the exit door: nothing had set foot in the infirmary in the last ten seconds he had looked at the door.

    Daryl tapped the cigarette's ashes into the ashtray and thought about yesterday: deciding now was the time to make his move on Carol, checking the infirmary for walkers, finding the folding bed inside the doctor's office and taking it as a sign that Merle had pulled some strings with the Almighty; telling Carol that walkers were in the cell block, but they could handle it themselves; hearing his heart beating inside his chest the closer they got to the doctor's office; Carol stepped inside and Daryl immediately locked the door and pushed the sofa against the door to keep any walkers from breaking in.

    Daryl remembered the confused look on Carol's face; then he avoided her gaze as he expressed his feelings as best he could:

    "I know how I feel about you, and I'm pretty sure you feel the same for me. I like what we've got together, and I don't think sex would piss it away. So I want you to know, that if you ever want to...whenever you're ready, I'll be ready too, and this bed will still be here."

    When Daryl was finished, he looked at Carol and was crushed to see the amused look on her face. Daryl blushed and went on a tirade:

    "Christ Almighty. I'm a jackass. Go ahead...laugh. It ain't gonna hurt my feelin's. I've been beat. I've been whipped. I've been shot and stabbed. All that shit hurts a hell of a lot more than bein' laughed at."

    "Daryl,"
    Carol called out.

    Daryl stopped arguing, and saw Carol, testing the weight of her revolver in her hand, and tossed the gun onto the sofa beside his crossbow. Then, Daryl felt Carol's hands on his chest and she ran then upwards to hold his face.

    "I've waited a long time for you to make your move," Carol said smiling.

    Carol gently pulled Daryl towards her and they kissed. Daryl embraced Carol and slowly backed her towards the bed, and she fell backwards with him falling on top of her. Carol started laughing; it was a cute laugh, but now that she consented, it was time to get to work.

    Daryl started by kissing Carol. They broke apart, took off their clothes, and Daryl slipped on the condom he kept in his vest pocket. They climbed into bed and they made love until they were spent. Daryl felt ridiculous that he called it love instead of sex, but wasn't that what sex was called when two people felt the same about each other? When they actually...loved each other?

    The shower stopped and Daryl glanced at the shower room's doorway; Carol would be stepping out in a while. He took a drag on his cigarette and blew out the smoke.

    A few minutes later Carol stepped out of the shower room. She was wearing a white cotton bathrobe, and a damp white bath towel was tucked under her right arm. She looked at Daryl and smiled. "The shower's all yours."

    "Thanks," Daryl said as he tapped the cigarette's ashes into the ashtray.

    Carol tossed the bath towel onto one of the infirmary's disheveled beds and looked over at the exit: ahead of the exit was the guard cage, covered in blood. "You know, when you insisted on standing guard by the shower, I thought you were being paranoid, but honestly, it's a good idea."

    Daryl glanced at the cage and grunted in agreement. "This ain't a prison anymore. It's the Bates Motel."

    Carol giggled at Daryl's joke and noticed how his dirty hair and limbs contrasted with the spotless infirmary bathrobe. "Don't be afraid of the water. You won't melt like the Wicked Witch of the West," she quipped.

    "Stop," Daryl said as he blew out the smoke; he picked up the white bath towel, and got out of the chair. Daryl took a step towards the shower room when he remembered his cigarette and took it away from his lips, and rolled it between his fingers.

    "Take it," Daryl said as he offered Carol his cigarette.

    Carol smiled but waved a hand in refusal. "No, thank you."

    "Come on, smokin' after sex is an American tradition," Daryl grinned. "Don't let this shitty world ruin an American tradition."

    Carol looked at the cigarette for a few moments, but shook her head. "No. That was my one vice during my marriage. I gave it up for Sophia, and I'm not going to start again."

    "Suit yourself," Daryl said as he crushed the cigarette into the ashtray. Daryl walked into the shower's entryway, and placed his bath towel on the shelf beside the shower hooks.

    "Don't forget to use the shampoo," Carol quipped.

    "Stop," Daryl grumbled as he untied his bathrobe, slipped it off, and placed it on a hook. He then stepped inside the shower stall, turned it on, and was struck by a steady stream of warm water. Daryl closed his eyes and stood still for a minute as the water ran down him, taking all the dirt and aches with it. He opened his eyes, took the soap from its tray and began to lather it across his chest. Carol smiled appreciatively at Daryl's naked body, and sat down in the chair and rested her hand on the handle of her revolver as she watched the exit for any walkers.
     
    #622 Rapscallion, Dec 23, 2016
    Last edited: Dec 25, 2016
  3. Rapscallion

    Rapscallion Well-Known Member

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    The sunlight was now golden as Daryl, fully clothed, slipped on his biker vest and bent down to pick up his worn Red Wing boots. He glanced over at Carol, also fully clothed, sitting on the sofa, and staring at her wedding ring.

    "Somethin' wrong?" Daryl asked as he sat in the doctor's leather swivel chair to slip on his boots.

    Carol looked up at Daryl. "I was just...thinking about Ed."

    Daryl snorted. "I knew bikers who I remember more fondly."

    Carol looked down at her wedding ring, and shook her head contemptuously. "It's stupid: I was an obedient wife, kept a clean home, and raised Sophia. All he did was beat and belittle me; stock on MRE's for World War III, and start...looking at my little girl. He's been dead for two years, and I'm glad for it, but I'm still wearing a wedding ring."

    "Old habits die hard...trust me," Daryl said as he tied the laces of his right boot.

    Carol smiled sadly and kept staring at her wedding ring.

    Daryl tied the laces of his left boot and looked at Carol. "So what do you want?"

    "I...I don't want to live in the past anymore and...I don't want to live with regrets," Carol explained as she looked at Daryl. "I want to start over...with you."

    Daryl blushed, lowered his head, and scratched his temple to keep from grinning, but he was fighting a losing battle. "Sounds like a plan," he grinned.

    Carol smiled, stood up, and walked over to the waste basket. She slipped her wedding ring off her finger and dropped it into the waste basket like she was disposing of a dead rat. Daryl stood up, and walked over to Carol; she gave her pixie smile and embraced him. Daryl wrapped his arms around Carol and gently pressed her to his chest.

    "Carol...we've got to go back," Daryl said reluctantly.

    "I know," Carol said as she used her fingertips to wipe her tears away.

    Daryl and Carol separated and gazed at each other. "So...how do we tell the others about us?" Daryl asked.

    Carol lowered her head in thought, but her pixie smile slowly returned and she raised her head. "Why should we tell them? It's none of their Goddamn business."

    Daryl chuckled and brushed a lock of Carol's grey hair behind her left ear. "I like the way you think; the hell with them."

    They kissed and walked over to the office door, and Daryl stopped by the sofa to pick up his Stryker Strykezone 380 crossbow. Daryl set the weapon's stock against his shoulder, while Carol pulled out her Colt Detective Special. Daryl looked at Carol, she nodded and he opened the door, and they both aimed their weapons at the hallway.

    The hallway was still clear.

    Daryl stepped out of the office first, aimed his crossbow up the hallway and waved for Carol to follow.

    The two moved cautiously up the short hallway and past the cage that guarded the deceased Dr. Paul Sheldon's office. The infirmary was as clear as when Daryl and Carol showered half and hour ago.

    Daryl, aiming down the sight of his crossbow, increased his pace to the cage on the other side of the infirmary. He stopped and looked inside: the John Grisham paperback novel and the pool of blood had been untouched. A moment later Carol stood beside Daryl, he nodded and stood by the door, while Carol assumed the 'Harries' firearms stance: her revolver pointed forward and resting atop her left wrist, while her left hand held her lit flashlight. Daryl turned on the flashlight tapped to his crossbow, counted to three, and swung the door open.

    The beams from their flashlights showed the long hallway was dark and empty.

    "Let's go," Daryl whispered as he took a step over the threshold.

    "Wait," Carol whispered urgently.

    Daryl lowered his crossbow and looked at Carol.

    "I just want you to know that last night was beautiful."

    Daryl blinked in surprise and Carol gave her pixie smile; a moment later Daryl snorted in embarrassment, and he and Carol cautiously stepped out of the infirmary and retraced their steps back to Cell Block C, where some of their friends were already and getting ready for the day.
     
    #623 Rapscallion, Dec 24, 2016
    Last edited: Dec 25, 2016
  4. Rapscallion

    Rapscallion Well-Known Member

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    Beth's head shot up from the pillow at the sound of a loud buzz. She sat up in bed, wearing a black sleep T-shirt and light blue pajama pants and wondered drowsily where she was when the sound of a baby crying joined the buzzing. Blinking her eyes into focus, Beth saw the digital alarm clock radio atop a scratched nightstand; she slammed her hand atop the digital alarm clock radio, pressed a button and buzzing stopped, leaving only the continued cries of the baby.

    Beth looked down at the floor and saw a crib lying a few feet away from her bed. That's when she suddenly remembered that she was in the prison, babysitting Judith until Rick and the scouting party returned.

    "Ssh, it's okay, Judith. I hear you," Beth whispered as she climbed out of bed, put her slippers on, and walked the few feet to the crib. Beth bent down and picked up Judith, who immediately stopped crying and cooed as her tiny hands clung to Beth's long, blonde hair.

    "Hey there, Doodlebug, sleep well?" Beth asked, giving the baby the nickname her father gave her during her childhood.

    Judith giggled and tugged at Beth's hair.

    Beth sat down on the floor and set Judith down on the center of a mat she'd left beside the crib. Then, Beth grabbed the diaper bag, slipped Judith out of her pajamas, and began the messy job of changing the baby. When the job was done, Beth threw the wet diaper into a waste basket she left beside the cell's doorway, and slipped a long sleeved shirt, coverall dress, and socks onto Judith.

    "I'm sorry about the alarm, Judith," Beth said as she took the baby into her arms, "but we can't sleep all day, can we? We've all got jobs to do, that's what my daddy always says."

    Beth, cradling Judith in her arms, stepped out of her cell and walked towards the main communal room. She had just taken her first step inside when she froze in place and gasped.

    Carl was sitting at one of the tables, eating a bowl of Frosted Flakes. Beside the cereal bowl was Carl's Beretta 92FS pistol with its aluminum baseball silencer.

    "Hey," Carl said coldly.

    "Uh...good morning, Carl," Beth said nervously.

    Carl t his spoon down in his cereal bowl and watched Beth suspiciously. "Is something wrong?"

    Beth adjusted her hold on Judith and pointed at the pistol on the table. "Uh, what's with the gun, Carl?" she asked.

    Carl glanced at the Beretta and looked back at Beth. "It's for protection; in case anyone gets into this cell block."

    Beth smiled nervously. "Carl, your dad boarded up the door to the Tombs. The walkers can't break in."

    "My dad thought Andrew got torn apart by walkers, but that bastard came back and got my mom killed," Carl spat angrily.

    Uncertain of what to say, Beth said the only thing that seemed appropriate, "I'm sorry, Carl."

    Carl snorted in contempt and stirred his remaining cereal with his spoon. "Right," he muttered.

    Beth approached Carl and sat across from him. Judith looked at her big brother and giggled; Carl smiled brightly.

    "Carl, you need to stop worrying about the walkers," Beth pleaded. "The prison is secure. The walkers can't get to us."

    Carl snorted in contempt again. "It's not the walkers I'm worried about."

    Beth blinked in confusion. "What do you mean?"

    "I mean I'm worried about those scumbags my dad let into the prison," Carl explained.

    "The Woodburians?" Beth asked as her eyes widened and she tightened her hold on Judith. "Carl, you can't mean that."

    "Yes, I do," Carl said.

    "Carl, they're people. They're good people."

    "Really? They followed the Governor didn't they? They knew he came here to kill all of us, but they didn't try to stop him."

    Beth looked down at the table; Judith squirmed in her arms and Beth absentmindedly bounced her gently on her knee.

    "My dad never should've let those people in here. We don't know them," Carl said bitterly.

    A minute later, Beth's expression turned cold and she sat straight in her seat. "Zac's who you're really mad at."

    Carl's eyes darkened and he leaned forward. "Hell no," he whispered coldly.

    "Don't treat me like I'm stupid," Beth said. "You're just mad that I turned you down and chose Zac."

    Carl sat straight in his seat and glared at Beth. A minute later he said, "I was mad. But now, I don't care."

    Beth shook her head. "Sure you don't."

    Carl's fist struck the tabletop, which made Beth flinch and Judith cry. "I loved you, but not anymore! I told you how I fel, but you didn't give a damn! All you cared about was some college kid you just met. So why should I waste another second feeling anything for you?"

    Beth glared at Carl while Judith cried in her arms. "You know what, Carl? I used to think you were funny. But now, I think you're pathetic!"

    Instead of throwing a tantrum, like Beth expected, Carl suddenly grinned and she gulped in fear.

    "I'm pathetic? You're just as stupid as my dad, because you both can't see how easily we can lose this prison. If those damn people don't try to take it, the Governor will come back and take it. I may be 'just a kid', Beth, but what's really pathetic is that most of the people twice my age can't see that!"

    Beth's cold expression crumbled and tears began to well up in her eyes. Judith stopped crying and cooed.

    Carl stood up, picked up his Beretta 92FS pistol and his cereal bowl. He stomped into the kitchen, emptied the cereal bowl into the sink, and filled it with tap water. Carl walked out of the kitchen and looked at Beth, who was ignoring him and keeping her head low. Carl's expression softened and he regretted treating Beth so harshly, and walked dejectedly out of the communal room, while Beth held Judith tightly, and wondered if Carl might be right.
     
    #624 Rapscallion, Dec 24, 2016
    Last edited: Dec 25, 2016
  5. Rapscallion

    Rapscallion Well-Known Member

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    The alarm clock rang and Hershel's hand immediately covered the two silver bells and stopped the hammer, turning off the alarm. Hershel dropped his hand onto his chest and sighed deeply. Ever since Hershel chose sobriety instead of following his father's path towards alcoholism, he had woken up at the break of dawn, but his second wife Annette, Beth's mother, needed an alarm clock. Annette wasn't born into the farming life, but she chose it along with Hershel when they married. It had been a struggle for her and her son Shawn, working the land, tending to the animals, and dealing with a rebellious Maggie, but they had faith in God, faith in themselves, and the help of Hershel's farm hands Otis and his girlfriend Patricia. Annette was a good wife and a good mother, and Shawn was a boy whom any father would be proud to call his son. And then Beth was born. With the arrival of a little sister, Maggie stopped being a wild child and the farm and Hershel's veterinary practice was prosperous for years.

    But one day last year, Hershel started seeing bizarre reports on the news about the dead coming back to kill the living. What a first was called the latest "urban legend" soon spread like wildfire as cities across the world were overrun with walking corpses hungry for the living.

    Tears welled up in Hershel's eyes. He was certain the crisis was some new disease. After all, how can the dead come back to life unless it was an act of God, and God is kind and merciful, not cruel and spiteful. Hershel firmly believed that, even when Annette and Shawn were bit by one of their "sick" neighbors.

    Hershel had done all he could to make them comfortable; and when they passed away his belief that a cure would be found for the disease didn't pass away with them. He and Otis carried Annette and Shawn into the barn, and within an hour they heard growls and saw the barn door rattle as they fought to break out and attack them. Then next day, Hershel and Otis started to place their "sick" friends and neighbors inside the barn, too. Hershel was sure medical science would find a cure; all it would take is Faith and time.

    All that Faith and time was shattered when Shane gunned down Hershel's "sick" neighbor Louise. Despite what would've been fatal wounds, Louise kept on snapping like a rabid dog and struggling to break free of the snare pole Hershel had been leading her one. Then Shane shot her in the head, and she fell dead to the ground, this time forever.

    Hershel had just begun to realize that Louise had been dead the whole time when Shane broke the lock on the barn and let out Annette, Shawn, and their neighbors. In the next minute, a massacre took place on his farm. Hershel, Maggie, and Beth watched helplessly as their family and friends were gunned down by the group, and when it was over, a low growl echoed from inside the barn.

    Sophia, Carol's missing daughter, stumbled out of the barn.

    Hershel heard Carol's anguished cry, and watched as the dead girl stumbled towards the group, her eyes eerily burning like a demon's, and then Rick stepped forward, aimed his gun at her head, fired, and Sophia fell to the ground amongst the other dead.

    Hershel sighed wearily in spite of his good night's sleep. He sat up in bed, clad in a white T-shirt and boxers, and swung his one leg onto the floor and folded his hands in prayer; a prayer for all the loved ones and friends he, his girls, and the group had lost since this crisis began:

    "Our Father, who art in Heaven,
    Hallowed be thy name.
    Thy kingdom come
    Thy will be done
    On earth as it is in heaven.
    Give us this day our daily bread,
    and forgive us our trespasses,
    as we forgive those who trespass against us,
    and lead us not into temptation,
    but deliver us from evil,
    for thine is the kingdom,
    and the power, and the glory,
    forever
    Amen."
     
    #625 Rapscallion, Dec 24, 2016
    Last edited: Dec 25, 2016
  6. Rapscallion

    Rapscallion Well-Known Member

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    With the prayer finished, Hershel reached for the neatly folded clothes he placed on the chair beside his bed, and started to get dressed. He was pulling his suspenders over his shoulders when he heard footsteps coming down the hallway. "Morning," he called out through the white curtain that hung outside the cell door for privacy.

    The footsteps stopped outside his cell. A few moments later a woman's voice said faintly, "Good morning, Hershel."

    "Carol?" Hershel asked uncertainly.

    There was silence on the other side of the curtain for another few moments and then Carol finally said, "Yes."

    "Stay right there, I'll be right out," Hershel ordered as he hopped on his one foot and slipped his crutches under his arms. He hobbled towards the doorway, and brushed past the curtain. "Carol, you might find this amusing," Hershel said as he brushed through the white curtain and hobbled out into the hallway. "I can wake up at the crack of dawn, but Annette could never wake up unless the alarm clock—"

    Hershel stopped talking and his eyes widened at the sight of Daryl, his crossbow slung over his shoulder, and standing beside Carol, who was blushing and staring at the floor.

    "Oh, I'm sorry, Daryl. I didn't know you and Carol were together."

    "We're not!" Carol shouted and instantly shut her mouth and her face turned a darker shade of red.

    Hershel looked at Carol and blinked in confusion.

    "We were just outside," Daryl explained calmly with a tug on his crossbow's shoulder sling for emphasis.

    "Oh?" Hershel asked, his eyebrows raised. "Did the guards report some trouble?"

    Daryl snorted in contempt. "Yeah, every damn time those walkers rattled the fences. It got to the point where we had to go outside and put a few of those geeks down."

    Hershel lowered his head. "Oh Lord," he muttered.

    Daryl and Carol exchanged glances, relieved that Daryl's impromptu lie was working.

    "Better to be safe than sorry, Daryl," Carol chided as her complexion returned to normal.

    Daryl snorted again. "Then I ain't seen a sorrier bunch of bastards than our new neighbors."

    "Not everyone is fearless as you, Daryl, especially when it comes to walkers," Hershel quipped.

    "It's about time they grew some balls," Daryl grumbled. "I ain't holdin' their hands every time a scrawny dead geek stumbles into the fences."

    "Today's a good a day as any for their education to begin," Hershel said as he hobbled past Daryl and Carol, and headed towards the main communal room. "Rick, Maggie, and Glenn are supposed to be returning sometime today. We'll have a group posted to stab any new walkers that come up to the fences; whittle their numbers down a bit so Rick and the others can get past the gate quickly."

    "That's a good idea," Carol said as she and Daryl caught up to Hershel. "I wouldn't mind helping them clear the fence line."

    Daryl shot Carol a nervous glare, but she smiled and raised a hand signaling she'd be careful.

    "What about you, Daryl?" Hershel asked as they neared the entrance to the main communal room. "What's on your itinerary?"

    Daryl snorted angrily. "If you mean what I've got planned for today, old man, I need to see that shithead John about the prison's furnace."

    Hershel looked at Daryl disapprovingly. "Daryl, I don't like that man any more than you, but did you have to use that adjective?"

    Daryl grunted and nodded for emphasis.

    The three friends entered the main communal room, and found Beth sitting at one of the tables, deep in thought while holding Judith in her arms.

    "Good morning, Beth," Hershel said happily.

    Beth didn't respond.

    "Beth," Hershel called out.

    Beth blinked, looked to her left, and saw her father with Daryl and Carol standing alongside him. "Oh, good morning, Dad," she said with a smile.

    "Are you alright?" Hershel asked as he hobbled towards his youngest daughter.

    Beth nodded and adjusted her hold on Judith. "I'm fine, Dad."
     
    #626 Rapscallion, Dec 24, 2016
    Last edited: Dec 25, 2016
  7. Rapscallion

    Rapscallion Well-Known Member

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    Hershel carefully sat down in the seat that Carl recently vacated and placed his crutches on the floor. Daryl set his crossbow atop a table and he and Carol walked into the small kitchen to get breakfast.

    "Have you had breakfast yet?" Hershel asked.

    Beth shook her head. "No."

    "Well, why don't you let me hold Judith, while you get something to eat?"

    "I'm fine, Dad."

    "Okay, then let me hold Judith, while you get her some applesauce?"

    Beth looked down at Judith and smiled sadly. "I just...want to hold her for a while, Dad."

    Hershel studied Beth's expression for a minute. "Beth, are you worried about Maggie?"

    "No," Beth said quickly, as Judith gurgled happily.

    "Then what is it you're worried about, because I can see there's something bothering you."

    Beth sighed wearily and a moment later she looked at her father. "Dad, do you trust the people from Woodbury?"

    Hershel blinked. "The Woodburians? Well, despite some tense moments between Rick and John, I believe we've all gotten—"

    "Do you think they'd try to take the prison?" Beth interrupted.

    Hershel looked over his shoulder to see if Daryl and Carol had stepped out of the kitchen, and when he saw they hadn't, looked back at his daughter. "How could you consider something like that?" he whispered.

    "That's not an answer, Dad," Beth said.

    "No, it isn't. Why would they try to do that?"

    Beth glanced at the table and shrugged. "The Governor."

    Hershel shook his head sadly and reached a hand over the table, Beth pressed Judith to her side and took hold of her father's hand.

    "Doodlebug, the Governor is dead. He can't harm us or these people anymore."

    "But Michonne, Daryl, and Carl all think that he's alive; and if the Governor comes back, will his people fight him or us?"

    "Michonne and Daryl almost got themselves killed trying to find a ghost; and while I love Carl like a son, he's dealing with a lot of grief."

    Beth lowered her head in shame. She knew her father meant Carl's grief over Lori's death, but he didn't know about Carl confessing his crush on her...and getting his heart crushed in return.

    Beth knew her friendship with Carl was over, but what else could she have done? Carl was a good kid, but he was still a kid. How could he believe a relationship between the two of them would ever work out? No, Zach wasn't just the best choice, he was the only choice. He was closer to her in age, and he was already helping the group out.

    "Beth?" Hershel asked gently.

    Beth looked at her father and saw his concerned expression. Behind him, Daryl and Carol were stepping out of the kitchen carrying breakfast trays and cups of coffee.

    "I'm fine, Dad. Just thinking too much," Beth said with a smile.

    "Can I ask what you're thinking about?" Hershel asked.

    An image of Carl appeared in Beth's mind, but she shook her head. "It's just something funny, Dad. Forget it."

    Hershel sighed. "If there's one thing I will never understand, Beth, it's what you young people consider funny."

    Beth giggled and stood up. "Dad, is it too late to accept your offer about holding Judith?"

    Hershel smiled and held his arms out. "It's never too late, Doodlebug."

    "Thank you," Beth said as she carefully handed over the baby. Hershel smiled like a proud grandfather as he held Judith in his arms, and the little baby giggled and reached up to touch his white beard.

    Beth walked towards the kitchen, and never noticed Daryl and Carol had been spying on her and Hershel.

    "He called her 'Doodlebug,'" Daryl whispered to Carol. "How embarrassin' is that?"

    Daryl chuckled and returned to eating his breakfast. Carol watched Daryl eat and she smiled wickedly that she had made the right decision to tease him with the pet name 'Pookie.'
     
    #627 Rapscallion, Dec 24, 2016
    Last edited: Dec 25, 2016
  8. Rapscallion

    Rapscallion Well-Known Member

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    By midday Daryl had inspected the fence line and replaced the guards in the towers; now he was walking along another dark hallway, his crossbow at the ready and the beam of the flashlight he'd tapped to it guiding the way. Daryl came to an iron door and stopped in front of it. Stenciled across the door in white paint were the words: FURNACE.

    Daryl held the door handle with his left hand, turned it, and the heavy iron door creaked like it came off a Universal Studios horror film set as Daryl pulled it open. Daryl aimed his crossbow into the room, and with its flashlight revealing the path was clear, he stepped inside.

    Despite its name, the furnace room was cold, damp, and dimly lit. The furnace itself stood against the far wall, and its black paint had been flaking off for decades. A shadow wearing a flashlight headband was on a step ladder beside the ancient box; its hands were performing a repair on a rusty pipe. When the shadow heard Daryl's approaching footsteps, and saw his approaching flashlight beam, it leaped off the step ladder, and brandished a heavy pipe wrench over its head.

    "Keep coming this way, you gruesome son of a bitch!" John threatened.

    "Good mornin' to you too, dumbass," Daryl said as he stepped into the headband's light.

    John lowered the pipe wrench and tilted his head. "Dixon?" he muttered.

    "No, it's Al Capone. I'm bustin' out of this joint and goin' back to Chicago," Daryl quipped.

    John huffed and lowered the pipe wrench to his side. "Well, excuse the shit out of me."

    Daryl glared at the Vietnam Veteran and looked at the ancient coal fired furnace, while John took a rag out of his back pocket and wiped his hands clean.

    "How's it look?" Daryl asked as he sized up the furnace.

    John stuffed the rag into his back pocket and looked at the furnace. "It looks like my wife Donna: big, ugly, and busted all to hell."

    "So what's it goin' to take to fix it?" Daryl asked.

    "The furnace hasn't been cleaned out since the day they shut it down; most of the pipes feeding heat into the cell blocks are brittle and need to be replaced."

    Daryl grumbled angrily. "How do we go about that, Pilgrim?"

    John glared at Daryl for a few minutes before answering. "Cleaning out the furnace is no sweat, and we can replace the pipes with the ones in Woodbury."

    "Michonne said Woodbury burned to the ground," Daryl reminded John.

    "Michonne also said she didn't find the Governor. Is that going to stop her from searching for his crazy ass?"

    Daryl glared at John and said nothing.

    "Woodbury may look like Hanoi after the Chirstmas Bombings, but this furnace needs new pipes, and some of those old buildings have coal furnaces. It's worth the time to search through the rubble."

    After a few moments of contemplation, Daryl said, "How about the town of Arkham? It's closer and it's still standin'."

    John blinked as if he was uncertain as to how he should respond. "Uh, Arkham? Yeah. I guess we can look there instead."

    Daryl nodded. "Alright. Rick's supposed to be comin' back today. We'll tell him about the furnace, and go to Arkham tomorrow."

    "Me and my guys have to go with your and Rick!" John said excitedly. "We have to make sure the dimensions on the lead pipes are right, and see if they have any rust spots."

    Daryl glared at John.

    "Besides, you'll need help bringing those lead pipes back here, right?" John asked with a grin.

    After a minute of tense silence, Daryl finally nodded. "Fine. We'll talk to Rick about this when he gets back. Until then, get some of your boys to clean out the furnace. I'm goin' to check the fences again."

    John chuckled. "Sure, many hands make less work."

    Daryl glared at John again, and then he turned around and started walking towards the iron door. John watched angrily as Daryl's footsteps faded away, and the beam of the flashlight tapped to his crossbow grew larger as he approached the iron door. Daryl stopped at the door, turned the handle, and it creaked noisily as Daryl opened to door, stepped into the hallway, and closed the door behind him.

    "Asshole," John muttered. "I can't wait to kill him along with Rick."
     
    #628 Rapscallion, Dec 24, 2016
    Last edited: Dec 25, 2016
  9. Rapscallion

    Rapscallion Well-Known Member

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    By midafternoon, a Black Dodge Charger sped down the deserted road that led to the West Georgia Correctional Facility.

    "We're home," Rick said tiredly.

    Zach, Glenn, and Maggie all sat up straight and looked out the windshield. In the distance they saw the rebuilt prison guard towers and rooftops of the prison. Rick chuckled, Zach smiled lightly, and Glenn and Maggie held hands and sighed in relief. They had been on the road since their escape from the Edison—Davis Power Plant, stopping only to fill up the gas tank and for Zach and Rick to take turns behind the wheel. Talk had been light during the long drive back to the prison, but Rick suddenly made one, firm statement: "We're not telling anyone about what really happened at the power plant."

    Glenn, Maggie, and Zach all nodded in agreement. They had gone to the Edison—Davis Power Plant with the expectation of finding coal to fuel the prison's furnace for the winter, instead they were made prisoners of a man named Leslie Lamar, who was just like the Governor: charming, organized, powerful...and insane. Lamar wanted to kill Rick, and put his friends to work with the surviving employees, but Rick escaped, found his friends, and made a run for it. But they had to shoot their way through Lamar and his security team.

    For the next few minutes, Rick and his group were engaged in the fiercest shootout he'd ever been in: both groups used automatic rifles, and threw grenades at each other, but in the end, the security team lay dead. Rick had spared Leslie Lamar's life, but Zach killed the executive after he threatened to hunt down the group. Zach had spoken the least on the ride back to the prison, which made it clear to Rick that Lamar was the first person he killed since the Turn began.

    The last secret Rick had kept from the group was Jenner's news that they all were infected. Rick justified that decision by saying the CDC's lone surviving doctor was crazy, or that he didn't believe it, but he knew telling their family and friends they had just survived a gun fight would frighten them just as badly as a herd of walkers. They had found a supply of coal, and they returned to the prison alive; that was the plan, and it was a success.

    The whole prison now came into view and the walkers along the road slowly stopped and watched angrily as the car with the four live humans inside it drove past them. The gate was getting closer, and Zach slowed down so Carl and one of the Woodburians could open the new gate. As they drove onto the prison grounds, Rick saw Carol, Tyreese, and a few Woodburians killing walkers along the fence line with stabbing weapons. Zach slowly drove his car up the road and the gate was quickly closed behind them.

    Zach stopped his car and killed the engine; he and his passengers stepped out and were greeted by Hershel, who wore a tweed jacket to protect him from the cold air.

    "Hi, Daddy," Maggie smiled with all the cheer she could muster.

    "You're a sight for sore eyes," Hershel said with relief.

    Hershel and Maggie embraced and she kissed him on the cheek. Glenn walked over to them and Hershel gently pulled away from his oldest daughter.

    "Everything okay?" he asked his future son-in-law.

    Glenn smiled broadly and patted Hershel on the shoulder. "Yeah. Yes, sir," he said wearily.

    Hershel patted Glenn's shoulder in return. The young couple began walking towards Cell Block C, leaving the old farmer behind.

    Rick walked towards the gate, where Carl was on his way to meet him. "Any trouble?" Rick asked his son.

    Carl shook his head. "No," then he looked at his father's clothes. "You had some."

    Rick looked down at his shirt and realized it was stained with blood. "Yeah," he grumbled as he remembered stabbing foreman Roy Oates to death in the elevator, "had a little."

    Carl studied his father's expression, and the former sheriff's deputy knew his son was only seconds away from asking what happened. At that moment, Carol and Tyreese walked by, and Rick thought of a distraction.

    "Carol," Rick gestured towards the sharpened cane she held in her hand, "I'll take that."

    Carol barely glanced at the cane before she gave it to Rick, and resumed walking towards Cell Block C. Rick walked calmly towards the fence line where the Woodburians were killing the remaining walkers.

    Carl watched his father for a moment, then he turned around and followed Carol and Tyreese; they all had spent the afternoon out in the cold, showing the Woodburians how to kill walkers, and they had clearly gotten the hang of it.

    Rick held the handle of the cane and looked down at the sharpened point, which was stained in blood and bits of brain matter. Rick looked at the walker across from him, rattling the chain-link fence in a mad attempt to bite him. Rick pointed the sharp end of the cane at the walker's forehead.

    SHLUKK!

    The walker froze still, and when Rick withdrew the cane, it fell to the ground like a scarecrow falling from its pole.

    Rick moved along the fence line to the next walker, repeated the stabbing process, and realized wherever he went, he eventually had to kill something, be it a human or a walker. While unbeknownst to Rick, Hershel watched him with great concern.


    TO BE CONTINUED​
     
    #629 Rapscallion, Dec 24, 2016
    Last edited: Dec 25, 2016
  10. PepperAnn

    PepperAnn Well-Known Member

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    Great chapter Raps!

    I don't really have anything special to point out except I am glad it was extra long....

    also glad to see everyone back together again. Interesting to see where things are going to go with John now that Rick is back.
     
  11. Rapscallion

    Rapscallion Well-Known Member

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    Thank you [MENTION=3634]PepperAnn[/MENTION].

    Yes, everyone's back at the prison, which means John's going to stage his coup soon.
     
  12. TheSlayingTaco1

    TheSlayingTaco1 Well-Known Member

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    [MENTION=591]Rapscallion[/MENTION] please forgive me...i was behind on in this fanfiction shame on me lol! Read chapters 25, 26, 27! I loved every part of it. Leslie getting his Demise was worth reading and I love how you wrote it not being too predictable and having Zach kilI him.

    I read your response about Rick setting an example for Carl that is good writing. I really enjoyed the humor "egg roll guy" and "Best thing is shooting his mouth". Loved Maggie and Glenn it made me happy to read!. I'm going to read this over again soon since i kinda forgot certain characters are who. But I really liked it as I felt it was appart of the show.

    Carol & Daryl was hot and always it my favorite part to read in your fanfic's I love that they are together. Oh reading Beth and Carl makes me sad....kinda miss Beth. This is great great stuff. In love with this and the way you write your characters. Keep it up! You got a gift.
     
  13. Rapscallion

    Rapscallion Well-Known Member

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    Thank you, @TheWalkingTaco1

    I'm glad you're caught up with—and enjoying—this story. Leslie Lamar was a fun villain to write. The gunfight was a headache to plan out, but I'm glad it worked out.

    Chapter 27 was challenging because I've been away from this story for so long, and I had to find the lost momentum. I love the Caryl scenes; Daryl and Carol have begun a secret relationship that the group won't find out about until my 6B reboot story "No Secrets Between Us." I had to put a conclusion to the one-sided Carl and Beth relationship; it seemed to me that when Carl tried to comfort Maggie over Beth's recent death in the season 5 episode "Them", that he wasn't completely sorry. I had to go back and find a way for John to start his coup to take over the prison.

    Only a few more chapters and this story will be finished.
     
    #633 Rapscallion, Dec 28, 2016
    Last edited: Dec 28, 2016
  14. Rapscallion

    Rapscallion Well-Known Member

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    @Seventh_son & @Lindigo.

    I took the original version of "To Live Again", broke it up, rewrote it, and posted it on FF.NET as a storyline I call The Walking Dead, Season 3C.

    In this storyarc, the season 3 finale "Welcome to the Tombs" was actually its second mid-season finale.

    Rick starts rebuilding the prison, while trying to win over the skeptical Woodburians. Group members grow closer, and group members grow apart. Scavengers are becoming a threat, but the biggest threat are still the walkers. And throughout it all, everyone speculates as to the fate of the Governor.

    Three storyarcs have been completed, and a fourth is in progress. I have future plans to reboot The Walking Dead, seasons 6 & 7.
     
    #634 Rapscallion, Dec 5, 2018
    Last edited: Mar 18, 2019

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