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Coretta Ann Evans has dealt with more than her fair share of bullshit in her twenty-six years of life. She hardly bats an eyelash when new bullshit is added to that ever growing pile. The fuckin’ apocalypse might well take the cake though. It’s definitely right up there with her piece of shit daddy beating her baby brother to death when he was fifteen. Definitely tied for first place.

Zombies. Fuckin’ zombie apocalypse. As if the world couldn’t get shittier, it had to add dead people walking to the fuckin’ mix. Coretta decides this is the final nail in the coffin for the good Christian faith her poor momma had tried to instill in her and her brothers. Clearly, God don’t give a shit about his creations if he’s real.

Coretta is more pissed than scared. Has been since her fuckin’ husband didn’t pick the damn phone up after eighty damn calls when shit hit the fan at their shitty fuckin’ trailer park. She’s driving her old red pick up, white knuckling the wheel, to the damn moonshine shack that doubles as her husband’s least favorite hunting cabin near Senoia. Closest one to Atlanta with nothing but woods and swamp and farmland around it. She’s got the damn truck loaded down with clothes, gas cans, water, guns, ammo, her compound bow, the dogs, and her sons. Mason and Keston are wisely keeping quiet where they’ve squeezed into the passenger seat together. Dogs in the back seat, hand gun in her driver’s side door, little .22 caliber rifle in her older boy’s hands. It’ll be fucking fine. They’ll be fucking fine. Just have to get to the damn shack and they’ll be fine.

Coretta ignores the dead people shambling around the roads, just drives by them like they aren’t there. She doesn’t give a fuck about the fact she recognizes some of them. They ain’t her fuckin’ problem. She ignores the bombs that fall on Atlanta in the distance. Ignores the groups of living people running on foot. She doesn’t give a fuck. It’s her and her boys. That’s all that matters. Anything and anyone else is just a fuckin’ side note.

Getting to the highway is fuckin’ easy. She’s driving like hell itself is on her ass and her boys don’t say a word about it. They’re smart like that. They know when their momma isn’t interested in chit chat. They know when silence is worth their weight in fuckin’ gold. She curses when she gets to the pile up of cars and people and corpses. The dogs are in the back seat growling and her boys crawl into floor of the car to hide as she says fuck it and goes off the side of the damn road. She doesn’t have the time or interest to deal with what’s quickly becoming a godforsaken graveyard. She just needs to get to the damn dirt road that she can take to the shack.

An hour and a half drive takes three fucking hours. Coretta takes it in stride. So long as they get where they’re going, she can deal with it. It’s midnight when they arrive at the place. She tells her boys to stay in the truck and grabs the handgun. She didn’t see dead people walking in the woods when they turned off onto the long dirt road, but she’s not taking chances. Fuck that. It’s silent. No sounds of people living or dead around.

Coretta takes that as a good damn sign. Sure enough, when she unlocks the shack, it’s clear of people. It’s a shitty place. One big room with a tiny kitchen area, a little table, a couple chairs, and one queen sized mattress with a bunch of blankets shoved in a corner. She never understood why the fuck Wade went and put a queen sized mattress in this place, but she sure as shit isn’t complaining now.

Satisfied, Coretta unloads everything out of the back of the truck. Gets the clothes. Gets the gas cans. Gets the guns and ammo. Gets everything out that’s not a living thing first and puts it in the shack. She grabs the dogs one by one and drags them inside too. Lucy and Red and Molly-dog. Two good hunting dogs and the idiot pitbull Mason had found in a ditch and begged her to let him keep the damn thing. He’d have gone into hysterics if she’d even suggested leaving them behind. Especially Molly-dog. Mason would have gone fuckin’ nuclear if she’d even thought it.

She gets her boys next. Hisses sharply at them to stay quiet and picks Keston up and puts him on her hip. Four years old is a bit old in her mind to be carrying him around like this, but it’s quicker than having the kid stumbling in the dark. Mason carries his little .22 rifle behind her as she takes them inside and locks them in.

Coretta doesn’t relax until she’s pulled the curtains over the dirty windows and put the jars of moonshine where her boys can’t reach. Mason watches her with sharp blue eyes— her eyes— as she checks and double checks the door. Little Keston is rubbing his eyes with one hand and holding the back of his big brother’s shirt with the other. The dogs are all sniffing the floor, Red flops down first near the wood stove and goes to sleep. At least someone isn’t fuckin’ worried.

“We’re gonna stay here for awhile, got it? We’re gonna have a few new rules. No yellin’ or cryin’. None of that. Noise is bad, y’all hear me?” Coretta waits until both her boys have nodded to keep going, “Good. Y’all ain’t gonna talk to anyone who ain’t me, y’all gonna hide if you even think you see another person. Mason, when I’m huntin’, you keep your brother safe. You shoot anything that’s on two legs, got it? In the head. You’re a good shot and I need you to do that if I ain’t around. You don’t let anyone or anything so much as get near you or Keston.”

“Got it, Momma. I won’t,” Mason’s chin just out as he looks up at her as fiercely as he can. Coretta doesn’t like telling her eight year old son to shoot people, but the world’s gone to hell in a hand-basket and she’s seen enough of people to know the dead aren’t gonna be the biggest threat in this fucked new world.

“Momma? Where’s daddy?” Keston’s big brown eyes stare up at her all hopeful and confused at the same time. She’s so fuckin’ pissed at Wade for not being here, her boys need their daddy as much as she does. Can’t fuckin’ believe he went on a damn hunting trip and didn’t tell her where he was going.

“Daddy is huntin’, baby. When he gets home, he’ll see the note I left and come here, don’t you worry,” Coretta is gonna be fuckin’ pissed if Wade doesn’t get his ass here quick. She ain’t in the mood for whatever sweet little apology he concocts either. She fuckin’ told him she didn’t want him going hunting this week. Had begged him to stay home. They’d needed him home, not dickin’ ‘round in the woods with her dumbass junkie older brother. Jesse best not be with Wade when he finally gets here either. She don’t need him methed out near her kids. She’ll feed him to the fuckin’ dead herself if that happens.

She sighs and points at the mattress on the floor, “Y’all go to bed. It’s been a long day and y’all need to sleep.”

When Mason opens his mouth to argue she cuts him off, “Do not argue with me, boy. Not today. Y’all gonna sleep and y’all not gonna make a peep. Now.”

Mason’s mouth closes with a click of his teeth. He knows damn well that tone means he’ll get put over her knee if he tries to argue. Keston knows too. Coretta may hate having to use that tone, but she needs them to just fuckin’ listen. She don’t need Mason’s sass anytime soon. They can’t be disobeying anymore. It’s listen or they get killed. Coretta would rather them alive than happy with her.

She waits for them to crawl onto the mattress and get under the covers. Waits for Molly-dog to clamber up and over Keston to sleep between Mason and the wall. Waits for Lucy to lay down by the door, before she loads the .30 deer rifle and leans it against the wall by the mattress and settles herself between the boys and the door.

Coretta listens to her boy’s breathing and the quiet snoring of the dogs as she lays on that shitty mattress on the floor. Listens to the wind blowing through the trees as she tries to get some form of rest. The world has gone to shit and Coretta doesn’t sleep a wink that first night as she waits for things to get worse. Things always get fuckin’ worse, after all. Why would the end of times be any different?

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Coretta decides real quick to only use her compound bow for hunting. They only have so much ammo and she sure as shit ain’t wasting it on rabbits and squirrels. Or Corpses. She can make new arrows, she can’t fuckin’ make new bullets. Bullets are for when shit hits the fan and running ain’t an option.

She finds her tolerance for nasty shit is skyrocketing. Killing Corpses is fuckin’ nasty. It smells and its messy and Coretta cannot fuckin’ stand the noises they make. Its not hard though. She learns that well enough. Just don’t get close while shooting them and she’s fine. Her close calls are when they get too close and she has to use a buck knife on them. Coretta may find the Corpses disgusting, but it takes her all of a week to figure out Corpses don’t mess with a person if they only smell rot instead of living people. So she starts killing the damn things and dragging them back to her shack. Makes herself a nice little perimeter of Corpses as a way to encourage them to go elsewhere. It’s not perfect, but it’s a start. She strings up cans and bottles too, just to make sure there’s no surprises and she can sleep a little easier at night.

Her biggest issue is leaving her boys alone. She fuckin’ hates doing that. She knows Mason is her and Wade’s boy through and through and can damn well take care of himself and Keston while she’s hunting, but it still worries her. Still makes her cut hunting short more days than not to go back to them. It makes things difficult. They need to fuckin’ eat. They need her hunting. They need water boiled. They need things cleaned. They need to be watched. She can’t fuckin’ do everything, but she has to. Mason, at least, starts helping around the shack. Takes care of Keston when she’s cooking their food. Helps clean clothes while she boils water. Helps and helps and helps. Mason is a smart kid. She’s always known that. A little survivor. She knows he’s figuring out how bad things are. That they’re fuckin’ serious and they can’t be playing. Coretta’s worry is only pacified by that fact and Molly-dog’s obsessive overprotective streak in regards to the boys.

Rabbits and squirrels and frogs and fish and berries. It’s a lean diet. One Coretta never fuckin’ thought she’d be relying on after getting the fuck outta her daddy’s house. It’s one she’s familiar enough with, though. It’s how she survived summer breaks when her daddy was on a bender. Had to eat something. Have to do it again. Her boys don’t complain, thank the fuckin’ lord. They’re plenty used to eating shit like this from Wade’s hunting.

She skips meals more often than she lets on. Coretta makes sure both her boys eat their fill before she touches the food. Eats what’s left over then drinks water or smokes a cigarette to take the edge off any lingering hunger, God fuckin’ bless her husband for the stupid amount of cigarettes he stashed in the shack. The dogs eat too. She makes sure of that. They get the guts from everything she kills. High protein diet, she’s pretty sure that’s what the fuckin’ vet woulda called it.

Her boys look like feral children real fuckin’ quick. Mason cut all the damn sleeves off his shirts like his Daddy and Coretta cussed over it while figuring out what to do with the fabric left over. Rags and bandages. Or replacement toilet paper when that shit runs out. She ain’t using fuckin’ leaves to wipe her ass. She’s already accepted she has to use a fuckin’ outhouse during the day while pissing in a fuckin’ bucket at night, she’s not using fuckin’ leaves on top of that. She has to take the boys to the damn creek when she wants to bath them. She just has them do that when she needs to wash the damn clothes. Two bathes a week isn’t her fuckin’ idea of a good time, but it’s better than fuckin’ nothing. Still, the boys look wild. Mason especially. Kid looks like he’s trying to scare people. At least little Keston doesn’t get mud in his hair. Coretta doesn’t get how the four year old is cleaner than the eight year old, but she doesn’t fuckin’ worry about it. As long as they’re alive and healthy, a little mud won’t kill them.

She takes Red and Lucy hunting with her every day. Fuckin’ hound dogs bay at everything and she can’t have them getting all excited and calling the fuckin’ Corpses to the shack when she’s not there. She’s just damn happy they’re good tracking dogs. Wade trained them personally to track and tree just about anything. Only reason she has them and he doesn’t is that he went hog hunting or some shit with Jesse and the coonhounds aren’t hog dogs. Setting them after wild hogs is a good way to get them killed.

She doesn’t touch the moonshine. She wants to. She really fuckin’ wants to most nights, but she doesn’t. Drinking during the apocalypse sounds like a terrible fuckin’ idea. If it was just her, maybe. But it ain’t just her. She’s got two little boys. She can’t afford a slip up. So the jars of shine stay put away. Much as she’d love to feel that familiar fuckin’ burn, now sure ain’t the damn time. Maybe when Wade gets here, she can relax a bit. Once she’s done chewing his damn ass out, anyway.

Coretta squats by the door to the shack, skinning squirrels with Mason while Keston practice with the child sized compound bow Wade had gotten the boys for last Christmas. She keeps a sharp eye on the treeline while the dogs eat the squirrel guts she tosses their way. Two weeks of being here and she ain’t seen one living person. It’s fuckin’ eerie. Makes her feel like she’s waiting for her daddy to come home drunk and pissed off all over again. She fuckin’ hates that feeling. Wade needs to get his ass here quick. She’s sick of the waiting game and so are the boys. At least Keston’s having a good time with that kid’s bow. Maybe he’ll hit a fuckin’ target in a decade or so.

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They’ve been at the shack a month first time Coretta decides to go to the highway and see if that pile up left anything worth keeping behind. They need medicine, Coretta may know a couple fuckin’ natural remedies, but she’d rather actual fuckin’ medicine when her kids eventually get sick. They needs clothes too, with sleeves that Mason will not fuckin’ cut off or she’ll tan his hide. Canned food would be nice too. Coretta can think of a million things she could use. Fuck, she’ll siphon gas if she can. Three full gas cans ain’t gonna last forever. Coretta figures she can go shopping at highway looting couture now. Since she doubts any fuckin’ cops gonna stop her.

Mason tries to argue he should go too, “Momma, Daddy said I’m suppose ta take care of ya when he’s not ‘round. I gotta go with ya.”

“Mason, I’ve done told you a million times, your only job is keepin’ you and Keston safe when I ain’t around. You’re gonna stay here with Keston and Molly-dog and keep safe,” Coretta gives him a stern look, “Hell, baby, teach Keston to skin those rabbits I got if you’re so bored, but you ain’t coming with me.”

“But, Momma—“

“No buts. I don’t wanna hear it. You’re stayin’ here and that’s the end of it. You hear me?” Coretta is entirely unbothered by her older boy’s bright blue eyes glaring up at her. He’s got her temper, but he knows damn well when she’s not gonna budge. He knows better than to push his luck.

“Yes, Momma,” Mason grumbles out, “Keston! Let’s skin some bunnies! I’ll make ya a rabbit’s foot if ya don’t mess up!”

Coretta grins a little at the thrilled look on Keston’s face. He worships his older brother, and anything Mason does for him is treated like it’s the best damn thing the world’s ever seen. He’s all smiley and bouncing as he runs over to the dead rabbits, “Promise?”

Mason blinks down at his brother as Coretta returns to getting what she needs for her little trip, “‘Course, Dum-dum. When I ever lie to ya?”

Keston’s face wrinkles up in deep thought, “Ya told me Daddy shot the Easter bunny.”

“‘Course he did. Ain’t you seen how big that rabbit was? That was the Easter bunny,” Mason rolls his eyes and tosses one of the rabbits to Keston.

Coretta takes that as her sign to go. Both boys are busy now and she don’t wanna be out there at night. That just spells trouble. Taking the truck means using gas, but she wants as much shit as she can get. Ain’t like anyone else gonna come ‘round to claim it. Might as well take what she can.

She loads the hound dogs in the back and heads out, her boys in the rear view mirror, Mason seemingly doing his damndest to patiently teach Keston to skin. There’s a couple things that need skinning. Should eat well tonight. Especially if she can find some canned food or something. That’d be fuckin’ amazing.

It don’t take long to get there. Don’t take long to see the disaster zone the highway’s become. Don’t take her long to accept she’s gonna be killing a lot of Corpses today. That’s fine. Long as she don’t gotta deal with people, she don’t give a shit. She parks the truck in the tree line. Leaves Lucy and Red in the cab and grabs her bow and quiver. Checks she’s got the old buck knife and goes to work. Puts down ten Corpses before she gets an idea. Wade used to steal cars when they were idiot teenagers. Never did get caught. She knows damn well how to set a car alarm off and noise is a damn dinner bell to Corpses. She picks one of the fancy ass rich people cars a ways down from where she wants to be. Breaking the window does the fuckin’ trick. The alarm is blaring and she takes off before the damn Corpses can so much as twitch. Circles back through the trees to her truck to wait for them to get busy. Don’t take long before she’s satisfied most of the nasty fuckers are busy with the car alarm. So long as she’s quiet and don’t move too fast, she bets it’ll be fine. The car she set off is a long ways from her truck after all. She ain’t stupid enough to set one off close by. She’d like to see her boys again, after all.

Coretta works quick. Checks car trucks first. Finds clothes and shoes like someone wanted to go on a fuckin’ vacation. Not even sensible fuckin’ shoes. Who the fuck packs stilettos for a goddamn apocalypse? She finds fuckin’ gold when she finds a black beat up old pick up. Makes quick work of the Corpses stuck in the seatbelts and starts grabbing shit outta it. Clearly, these people had the right damn idea. Sucks for them they couldn’t execute it. They got crates of canned food. Even got ammo and guns. Coretta is fuckin’ giggling with how happy she is about this. It’s a fuckin’ apocalyptic Christmas. Fuck yeah. She hauls it all back. Not about to leave a single thing behind. Finders keepers and all that good shit.

She starts picking through the trucks and RVs since that seems to be where the fuck it’s at. She find toilet paper in one and grins like a damn loon over it. Finds whisky in another. Takes a while but she finds a few first aid kits and a ziplock bag of generic medicines and figures she’s got what she came for. Ain’t no point hunting around for more shit today. Not when that siren is still drawing Corpses to it. Fuck that shit. She can always come back. Ain’t like it’s hard to get here.

The dogs are all keyed up when she gets back in the truck. Growling and baying at the sound of the damn car alarm. Coretta gives them a sharp command to shut up as she turns the truck towards home. That noise ain’t necessary. They aren’t on a trail and she ain’t hunting. Lucy and Red need to keep quiet. Don’t need Corpses trying to eat the damn dogs.

Getting back to the shack she has to grin at the sight of her boys. Mason’s carrying Keston around on his back with Molly-dog chasing them around. It’s cute. Her boys are fuckin’ adorable. Least they can still have fun from time to time. Those rabbits better be fuckin’ skinned though. She wants to start tanning the hides. See if she can’t make clothes or some shit with them. She’ll need a deer or something though for most of that shit. Rabbits don’t got much skin on ‘em. Maybe gloves. Maybe hats. She don’t know. She’ll figure it out.

“Mason! Keston! Help unload!” Coretta calls. She’d feel worse about ending play time but they need to get their fuckin’ groceries inside. Can’t be leaving the valuables out for people to see. Might encourage thieving. The boys jump to attention and proudly declare they can carry everything since they’re big, strong boys. Coretta laughs when they find out how heavy the boxes of canned food are. Poor babies got some growing left to do before they can handle those.

She’s feeling good that night. Her babies are well fed, she’s well fed, the dogs are all fed. No Corpses came calling today and no people came ‘round. Coretta can feel some of the tension side outta her. It’s been a damn good day and She’s damn happy about it. Curled up with her boys on that shitty mattress, she has the easiest sleep she’s had since shit hit the fan.

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Coretta doesn’t say it, but she has a feeling she’s not going to be seeing Wade again. Six weeks and he’s not around. She knows if he were alive, he’d have gone straight home. Knows he would have hauled ass out here as soon as he saw the note she’d left on the fridge. Coretta’s no fool. She knows that he’s not coming. Knows if he were gonna be here, he’d have shown up by now. She doesn’t have time to cry over him though. She can’t do that. She’s got her boys to take care of and crying over their daddy ain’t gonna keep them fed, ain’t gonna keep them alive. So, she lets him go. Coretta puts her husband out of her mind and keeps living. Ain’t nothing else she can fuckin’ do, after all. Chasing a ghost ain’t an option with two boys hanging off her skirt.

She knows Mason is worried. More than once she watches him watching the dirt road. Coretta can tell, plain as day, that he’s wondering where his daddy is. Wondering what in the fuck is taking the man so long. Keston hasn’t caught on yet, thank the fuckin’ lord. Sweet little thing is gonna raise hell once he starts to realize his daddy probably ain’t coming. She ain’t looking forward to that fuckin’ conversation at all. It’s gonna be a fuckin’ nightmare.

Coretta knows the strange peace of the shack ain’t gonna last. Knows it’s the calm before the storm. People or Corpses are gonna ruin it eventually. That’s just life. Just the fuckin’ joke that is life. She’s gonna need to figure out a back up plan before then. New place for her babies to sleep. New place to set up shop.

She figures north is a safe bet when it’s time to go. Meat freezes in the cold. She figures Corpses will too. Ain’t no reason to think differently. Just gotta stock up on the canned food ‘cause hunting ain’t so easy when the animals are freezing their balls off and starving. Northwest maybe. Dakotas or some shit. Coretta doubts many people are up there. She don’t really wanna go up there, she ain’t never been that far north in her damn life, but she needs a back up plan for when the fuckin’ shack falls through. Needs a place to actually go. Not just a fuckin’ idea of a place. Coretta ain’t looking forward to post-apocalyptic house hunting. Sounds like a fuckin’ nightmare.

Not today though. She ain’t worrying about that today. She wants a deer. Needs a deer. Plenty of meat. Can dry it and make deer jerky or some shit. She won’t have to hunt for a few days if she does that. She can focus on other things for a little while. Like scavenging the fuckin’ highway like a rat again or teaching her boys to protect themselves better. Something that ain’t marching ‘round the woods looking for deer tracks.

It’s going well enough. She left the hounds back at the shack for once. Don’t need them scaring off deer. They’re better suited for smaller game. Things that won’t run miles and miles away. Things she can just shoot outta a tree and be done with it. She’s found deer tracks an hour or two old near the creek and figures she’ll be back to the boys a little later than she planned.

It’s well past noon when she hears the voices and her heart stops in her fuckin’ chest for a moment. It’s a group, she can tell that much. Sounds like men. Coretta decides she ain’t interested in making friends and throws herself down into the creek. There’s plenty of clay root to duck into and she chooses one that’s a tight squeeze but makes it damn near impossible to spot her. She’s not worried about her boys. She’s a few miles from them and these men sound like they’re going the opposite direction. So long as they don’t spot her, it’ll be fine.

She feels like a rabbit hiding from Lucy and Red. Feels the way she did when Jesse would shove her out the backdoor of the shitty trailer they grew up in when their daddy came home cussing and smelling of whisky. Her hand is clutching the buck knife tightly and she’s struggling to calm her breathing. Struggling not to make a sound. They’re getting closer and Coretta’s grinding her teeth as her stress builds and the blood rises in her ears.

They ain’t even trying to be quiet. Talking and shootin’ the shit like it’s a damn camping trip. If it weren’t for what the fuck they’re talking about, Coretta would relax. The shit they’re saying makes her blood run colder than fuckin’ ice. They’re looking for women. Not to help them either. Fuck. Coretta knows people are shitty. Knows damn well how terrible people tend to fuckin’ be. Knew as soon as this mess started she was gonna be seeing the worst of people. Getting confirmation is still rattling. They’re too close to her and the boys for comfort. Even if they’re not headed that way, the cabin suddenly feels like a fuckin’ target. Like she’s just asking someone to try something.

She crouches in that damn clay root long after their voices have faded away. Waits until it’s nearly fuckin’ sunset before creeping out and heading home. Fuck, she can’t believe she considers that shitty shine shack home now. Her trailer may have been a piece of shit, but her shack makes it look like a fuckin’ mansion. She forces her hands to stop shaking as she makes her way back. She can’t let her boys see her rattled. Can’t let them see their momma scared. Scared mommas make for scared babies and she needs her boys calm. Needs them keeping their heads screwed on straight.

It’s dark by the time she gets back and Mason’s trying to cook frog legs on the stove like she does. Keston is playing on the dirty floor with Red. She takes over the cooking as soon as she’s in the door. Let’s Mason go mess with Molly-dog while she gets food ready for the boys. Hunting all day with nothing to show for the efforts. Waste of a damn day. She figures there’s enough frog legs to feed the boys. She’ll settle for water and cigarettes if they eat it all. Coretta ain’t wasting the canned food and she’s used to hunger. She don’t need her babies getting used to it anytime soon.

She stares down at the frog legs and frowns. She needs a fuckin’ map. Needs to figure out where to go. This place ain’t safe anymore. Won’t stay a haven forever and she can’t risk her or her boys by staying too long. Coretta got fuckin’ lucky today and she damn well knows it. She also knows that her luck ain’t ever good for long. Something always has to go wrong.

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Two weeks after the incident with the men, her boys hand her a headache on a silver fuckin’ platter. She’s let Mason take Keston down to the creek to catch frogs and crawdads while she makes new arrows. Mason’s good enough with the child sized compound bow she knows he’ll be able to protect himself and Keston. Knows he’s within hollering distance of her. Knows he’s got Molly-dog with them. She ain’t fuckin’ worried. So long as they don’t get stupid and run off, it’ll be fine.

It’s a down day, no need to hunt today. She’d done well enough lately they could live off dried squirrel and rabbit meat for a month. So she can take a day to make arrows, wash clothes down at the creek, work on making those fuckin’ fur gloves for the boys so they can keep their fingers when winter finally comes around. She ain’t heard a peep from other people since those men walked by her. She knows there’s farms around here. Knows people are probably around, but ain’t no one coming around so it ain’t her concern today.

Coretta is relaxed enough she takes a few sips from one of the moonshine jars and sighs happily at the familiar burn. She’s not about to drink much. Can’t drink much with the way the fuckin’ world is, but a sip or two won’t hurt as the evening gets closer. She got to bathe and wash the dirt outta her hair in the creek this morning and got her boys all cleaned up too and she’s feeling good. Still wants to get gone, but for now, she’s alright. Seeing her blonde hair instead of muddy hair is a fuckin’ amazing thing. Keston and Mason will get all muddy catching frogs and crawdads but they know to wash the mud off before coming back. Things are good for the zombie fuckin’ apocalypse.

Her boys running back full speed to the shack, Molly-dog running beside them, and screaming for her tells her she spoke too soon. Of fuckin’ course the one good feeing day has to go bad. She grabs her compound bow and the quiver of freshly made arrows and runs to meet them, “Mason? What is it? Y’all hurt anywhere? Was it Corpses or people?”

“Momma, there’s a girl!” Mason’s eyes are blown wide and he’s panting and she can see he’s missing a few of the arrows she made him.

“Like a person person or a Corpse?” Coretta breathes deeply and tries to keep calm.

“A person! She’s a kid like me, Momma, and Corpses were after her so I helped her but she ran off and— and Momma, ya gotta find her!” Mason pleads. Trust her older boy to want to help every lost thing he finds. It’s how they got Molly-dog, after all.

“If you helped her, why’d she run?” Coretta can feel the fuckin’ headache coming on and the pleasant feeling the Moonshine gave her slip away as she listens to her son’s little tale.

“Dunno, but she was real scared and ya gotta help her!” Mason looks ready to cry if she doesn’t agree. Her little boy can be so contrary and argumentative when it comes to helping people. She ain’t sure he’s found something yet he don’t wanna help if he can. She ain’t got a clue where that good will came from.

“Keston, ya see this girl too?” She glances down at her littlest baby. She needs to know Mason didn’t just imagine some shit in the woods.

Little Keston nods and messy blonde hair falls in his eyes. She needs to cut that. He shuffles his feet, “Please, Momma, ya gotta get her, she was all scared and cryin’.”

Coretta gnashes her teeth, “Where’d y’all see this girl? Keston, go inside and stay there. Mason, show me where I’m supposed ta be lookin’.”

Neither boy hesitates to listen. Coretta wants to say no, in all honesty. This girl ain’t her responsibility. She don’t know her from Adam. If some dumb bitch can’t keep track of her kid, Coretta ain’t really interested in picking up the slack. Only reason she’s agreeing is ‘cause she can’t stand Mason’s heartbroken looks whenever she won’t let him bring home strays.

They get down to the creek and Mason points out towards where the trees get real thick, “She ran that way, ya gonna find her, right?”

Coretta sighs as she starts looking for tracks, “Yes, baby, I’m gonna find this girl. Ya get back home, now. Stay there with your brother.”

Mason is gone, Molly-dog in tow, now that the kid is satisfied she’s gonna help this girl he’s found. There’s maybe an hour to sunset and she needs to work fast if she wants to find this kid. Least the trail is fresh as they come and the girl sure wasn’t trying to hide her damn tracks. Coretta doubts the girl’s too far away.

She follows the crushed leaves and footprints and places it’s obvious someone’s been through the thick fucking trees and undergrowth. This girl is damn lucky Coretta paid attention when Jesse was teaching her all this tracking shit back before he took off and got into drugs. Girl would be fucked if she hadn’t.

It’s the crying that gives the girl away first. The fuckin’ crying. Coretta would have to tan her boy’s hides if they cried that loud out in the woods. Fuckin’ begging Corpses to come eat her. Crying has to be fuckin’ quiet these days. None of this sobbing shit if they want safety. Girl is curled up against a tree and she looks like fuckin’ hell. Like she’s had a real bad fuckin’ day.

“Hey, Girlie, hell ya doin’ out here?” Coretta calls out, trying to keep her irritation from coming through.

The girl looks shocked and like she has half a mind to bolt again. If she does, Coretta ain’t fuckin’ chasing her. Thank the fuckin’ lord the girl has enough sense not to run, “I— I’m lost.”

“Yeah, that’s clear ‘nough. I ain’t askin’ if ya lost. I’m askin’ why yer runnin’ ‘round the woods like it’s a party. Where ya supposed ta be?” Coretta has resigned herself to having to help this kid get to wherever the fuck she came from. She ain’t keeping no more fuckin’ strays. Molly-dog is more than enough.

“The— the, uh, the highway. My mom is there and our people. There were walkers and they chased me,” The girl is sniffling like she might burst into tears any second now.

“Quit that cryin’, yer fine. I’ll take ya to the damn highway in the mornin’, now get up and come on, we ain’t got all day,” Coretta is trying to be nice since this child has clearly had a time of it, but her annoyance at the situation is making her accent thicker and she knows if her boys were here they’d be suddenly on their best damn behavior just hearing that change.

The girl hesitates like she thinks Coretta is a fuckin’ witch or something that wants to eat her and Coretta rolls her eyes, “Way I see it, ya got two choices, honey, ya either come with me, have a safe place ta sleep for the night, or take yer chances in the woods. I ain’t gonna make ya come with me, but I ain’t exactly gonna be believin’ ya if ya say ya can survive the night out here.”

The girl stands on shaky legs like she’s a damn newborn fawn or some shit and stumbles towards Coretta, “My— my name’s Sophia Peletier. What’s yours?”

Polite little thing. Kinda cute. Coretta runs her eyes over the girl in the dying light and don’t see any bites, “Coretta Evans, Miss Sophia. Pleased ta meet ya. Now keep up and try not ta make noise. Don’t need any Corpses finding us.”

“Where are we going?”

“My place. My boys are there, they’re real sweet, ain’t no reason for ya ta run off again when ya see ‘em. We got food too, if ya hungry,” Coretta figures whoever this girl’s momma is, she can’t be sending her back to the woman with an empty stomach. That’s just bad fuckin’ manners.

Miss Sophia trails behind Coretta the whole way, tripping on every damn pebble and twig in the woods. She swears this girl probably ain’t ever been in the woods in her life before the Corpses started biting people. Coretta can’t wait to give her back. Girl is gonna get herself killed and Coretta ain’t interested in witnessing that. First thing she does after feeding the kids in the morning will be marching this girl back to the fuckin’ highway. Wipe her hands of a problem she don’t fuckin’ want.

The shack and her perimeter of dead Corpses comes into view and she can see light from the wood stove through the curtains. She needs to board those damn windows up. Fuck, that’s going to be a headache. Miss Sophia ain’t said a word in awhile and Coretta is pretty damn happy about that. She ain’t in the mood to conversation.

Coretta opens the door and ushers the girl inside, “Miss Sophia, those’re my boys, Mason and Keston. The dogs are Lucy, Red, and Molly-dog— they don’t bite. Get settled, I’ll see if I got spare clothes for ya. Mason, Keston, this is Sophia, she’s stayin’ the night with us. Be sweet.”

She turns her attention to the trash bags of clothes she brought while the kids get to know each other. She figures the girl won’t mind boy clothes for a night. Mason ain’t cut the sleeves off all his shirts and there’s a pair of kid’s sweatpants she scavenged off the highway that will probably fit the girl. She grabs those and one of the only shirts Mason ain’t fucked up yet and tosses them at the girl, “Here, get changed, yer filthy. Boys, face the wall ‘til she’s done.”

Coretta sets to getting the dried meat for dinner, since her boys got distracted from frog catching by miss Sophia. She tosses a few pieces to the dogs before calling the kids over and handing out jerky. She’s extremely grateful Miss Sophia don’t ask what kinda meat it is. The girl looks like the type to be squeamish about squirrel meat. She also reminds Coretta of a little broken bird, truth be told. All skinny arms and legs and a sad, shy little face. Coretta needs this girl gone before she starts feeling responsible for her. She’s got two kids already, she sure as shit doesn’t need a third. Especially since the girl comes with a damn group. Coretta ain’t interested in that shit at all. People are nothing but trouble and she’s not looking to get involved with trouble.

Chapter Text

Next morning, Coretta gets the kids fed and makes sure Miss Sophia looks clean and presentable for her momma. She figures her momma don’t need to see her looking like hell. Coretta don’t know much about other people’s kids, but she thinks returning them better than she found them is what she’s supposed to do.

Coretta smokes a cigarette and watches Mason show Miss Sophia that little compound bow he loves so much as she considers how she wants to go about taking this girl back. She ain’t driving the truck, that’s sure enough. She ain’t wasting gas when walking works just as well. Not like the girl’s momma gonna take off on them if her baby is out here. Coretta sure wouldn’t, but Coretta ain’t dumb enough to loose track of her boys and they ain’t dumb enough to run off blind like Miss Sophia did. Her big concern is finding the right fuckin’ people to return this girl to. She ain’t interested in running into the wrong group and she don’t want the little girl getting hurt if something goes wrong. Mason would be all pouty if she let that shit happen.

Miss Sophia seems utterly taken by the dogs and Coretta gets the feeling the girl ain’t ever had a pet before. She’s shy as they come too. Speaks in a tiny little voice every time her boys talk to her. A real stark fuckin’ contrast to Mason’s confidence. Her boy has never been one hide behind her leg, that’s for damn sure, even Keston is a loud mouth when he wants to be.

Coretta puts the cigarette out and whistles at the kids, “Mason, Stay here with Keston, remember the rules. Miss Sophia, I’ll be walkin’ ya home now if ya ready.”

Mason grins brightly at Miss Sophia, “Ya should come visit again, I’ll show ya how to catch crawdads.”

Miss Sophia smiles all shy again and nods her little head, “If mom lets me, it was nice meeting you.”

Coretta grabs her knife and her bow and puts her hand gun on her hip just in case some shit does real wrong and leads the girl down the dirt road towards the highway, “Now, Miss Sophia, I need ya to stick with me, no runnin’ off or gettin’ spooked, I don’t wanna be chasin’ ya all through the woods today.”

“Yes ma’am, why aren’t we driving?” Little Sophia looks at the red pick up like she’s aching something fierce to be in it.

“Limited amount of gas, honey, don’t need ta be usin’ it,” Coretta don’t mention this way makes it harder for her group to spot Coretta before she wants to be seen. That truck is great until she wants to keep outta fuckin’ sight.

Coretta takes her time walking so the little thing doesn’t fall behind, Lucy and Red trot ahead of them like they have a clue where they’re going. Damn coonhounds probably trying to sniff out squirrel or something. If they do, Coretta will happily take it. Miss Sophia keeps up well enough, still all clumsy like she ain’t ever learned to use her legs properly, but Coretta chalks that up to not being used to the woods and being kinda scared of everything, probably steadier when she ain’t afraid.

A gunshot sounds further down the highway when they’re about a mile from it. Coretta stops walking immediately and considers that. One gunshot. Either someone is hunting, stupid or shot another person. It’s too close to the highway for comfort too and Coretta curses. She ain’t walking this girl into a potential shoot out.

She turns to look at the girl and Miss Sophia is staring up at her all wide eyed, “Change of plans. I’m gonna take ya back ta the shack, then go find yer people. What’s yer momma’s name?”

“Carol,” Sophia answers in a tiny little voice.

“Great, I know ya wanna see yer momma again, but I ain’t takin’ ya near where someone is shooting off a gun if I don’t have ta. You’ll stay with Mason and Keston while I find ‘em, what kinda cars does yer group have?”

“An RV, a truck, oh, there’s a motorcycle too,” Sophia nods with each car she lists.

“Alright, well that’s memorable. I’ll find ‘em and come get ya, ya gonna be alright with that?” Coretta don’t need this girl raisin’ hell ‘cause Coretta’s trying to make sure they don’t get fuckin’ shot.

“Yes ma’am,” Miss Sophia looks a bit unhappy but ain’t arguing so Coretta figures that’s fine.

Coretta turns them around and whistles for the dogs to come along. Ain’t losing her husband’s dogs. She refuses to let those dumbasses get eaten by Corpses any time soon. Miss Sophia is wringing her little hands the whole walk back and Coretta is chewing the inside of her cheek in frustration. She don’t like this situation one bit, but one gunshot is more concerning that multiple. At least with multiple, Coretta knows it’s a bad sign, one gunshot is too many fuckin’ possibilities. She don’t like that shit at all.

Miss Sophia is quiet as a damn church mouse when they get back to the shack and Coretta ushers her back inside with a quick run down of the rules. Coretta puts the hound dogs inside too, girl seems to like them and she don’t need them getting shot or something while she’s trying to see what’s going on.

Coretta heads back out to the highway, stabbing a few Corpses in the head as needed. An Rv, a truck, a motorcycle. Should be easy enough to spot, especially with people. It’s well past noon by the time Coretta makes it to the highway, Sticking in the tree line for some cover. She walks down the road the direction the boys said they saw the girl running from and figures it’ll be a mile or two at most before she finds this group.

Coretta lights up a cigarette as she looks for people. Looks for RVs and trucks and Motorcyles. Someone’s definitely been around, cars have been pushed off the sides of the damn road to make a path. Guess that means Coretta’s going in the right fuckin’ direction. She blows smoke out and taps the buck knife against her thigh as she looks. She ain’t seeing a any of those cars. Ain’t seeing any people that ain’t Corpses.

Two miles of walking and she ain’t found a damn thing. Not a single fuckin’ person. Coretta is going to raise fuckin’ hell if these people left their damn kid behind. Gonna have a fuckin’ fit. Her daddy may have been a piece of shit, but even he never just left her and her brothers places they weren’t supposed to be. Mostly, anyway.

Coretta finds bottles of water and food on the road by a little cardboard sign. Alright, well, shit. At least it says they’ll be coming back for the girl. Every damn day. Coretta wishes they’d have left a time or some shit they’d be coming back, like noon or something so she knows when the fuck this girl’s people are gonna be around. That’d be fuckin’ nice. Coretta ain’t gonna sit by the road all damn day and she sure as shit ain’t leaving a kid by the road like that. She’ll have to go hunt these people down or something. Dumbfucks leaving a damn kid. What a fuckin’ mess. Coretta shakes her head and heads back. She got a little girl’s heart to break she guesses. Ain’t like she can justify this mess to the poor thing. This is what she fuckin’ gets for being soft to Mason’s habit of finding strays.

Chapter Text

Coretta goes searching for people the next day. Lingers awhile near the damn sign they left in case they come by. They don’t. Of course they don’t. Why the fuck would they? Coretta is pissed the fuck off as she goes looking for people. She ain’t got a clue where the fuck to start, for all she knows, they’re long gone. She fuckin’ hopes not, but she ain’t the type to expect the best to happen. Life don’t work out like that. She figures if they’re around, they’ll be holed up in a barn or house or some shit. She’ll have to skirt some of the farms, there’s people there and she figures if Miss Sophia came from one of them, she’d have said. She ain’t about to give the girl to some fuckin’ stranger. Coretta is giving the girl back to her momma or she’s keeping her until she can. Simple as that.

Coretta finds the old church, all bloody and broken and wonders if God is still paying it any attention. From the blood stains on the Jesus statue, she don’t think he is. She wanders through it and moves on quick enough. She ain’t been a fan of church in a long time. That was her momma’s thing and it died with the woman.

Coretta is out for hours looking for people. Hours and hours of searching for people she don’t know, all so she can give them back their damn kid. She gonna get the girl a leash too, her momma won’t be able to lose her again if she’s fuckin’ attached to her. She ain’t gonna be helping a second time if this group can’t keep track of their damn children.

The hopeful look on Miss Sophia’s little face damn near breaks Coretta’s heart when she see it and has to watch it fade when Coretta shakes her head. Poor thing just wants her momma. Coretta’s trying but she don’t know where to start. Don’t know where these people are.

Coretta sighs and starts running ideas through her head as she watches Mason try to get Miss Sophia laughing. Keston is messing with a beetle by the shack and the dogs are roughhousing. If it weren’t for the fuckin’ Corpses Coretta’s stacked up, it’d look like a damn camping trip.

Coretta resigns herself to checking farms tomorrow. Maybe see if any of them know about a group passing through that’s missing a kid. She ain’t a fan of the idea but unless God drops a big flashing arrow down to show her the way, that’s gonna be the easiest option.

“Momma!” Mason runs to her all big eyed. She knows that look. That’s his fuckin’ begging look.

She eyes him warily, “What is it, baby?”

“Sophia dropped her doll and she really likes it, could you go find it tomorrow?” Mason looks like he’ll go looking himself if she don’t agree, something Coretta sure as shit ain’t gonna be alright with.

She rolls the idea over in her head, if someone’s looking for the girl, maybe finding the doll will help the situation. Somehow. She’d rather be looking for people, but she figures if someone’s looking for Sophia, maybe they’ll cross paths if she finds the damn doll. Not like she has any better ideas. Coretta sighs and calls out to the girl, “Miss Sophia? Where’d ya drop the doll?”

Sophia wrings her little hands and looks at the ground, “Down by the creek, Mrs. Evans. You don’t have to get it, though. It’s not a big deal.”

Coretta raises an eyebrow. Every time she’s heard a kid say something ain’t a big deal, it almost always is. She shrugs it off, “I’ll see what I can do tomorrow. Ain’t like I got better things ta do. Y’know the names of anyone else in yer group?”

Sophia blinks and bobs her head, her short hair bouncing around her face as she does, “There’s Lori and Carl— Carl’s a kid like me— um, there’s Shane and Rick, Rick and Lori are Carl’s parents. Shane and Rick are police officers. Then there’s Dale, he’s really nice, and Andrea, she’s nice too. T-dog is funny, oh then there’s Daryl, but he’s not really friendly.”

Coretta figures she’ll remember maybe half those names, “Any of ‘em gonna shoot me if I bump into ‘em?”

Sophia’s eyes get real big, “I don’t think so?”

Coretta takes that as a yes, but I don’t know which one and chews the inside of her cheek again. She’ll just have to be careful if she runs into them. She ain’t looking to get shot anytime soon. She gives the girl a thin smile, “Well, alright then. I’ll see about findin’ that doll for ya.”

Sophia looks torn between joy and like she wants to apologize for the trouble, “Thank you, Mrs. Evans.”

Coretta rolls her eye, “No trouble, girl, and just call me Coretta. Mrs. Evans makes me feel like an old lady.”

Mason grins like a little devil and she knows he’s about to get himself into trouble, “But, Momma, yer old.”

There it is. She cuffs him over the back of the head lightly, “Boy, I’ll have y’know I’m twenty-six. I ain’t anywhere close ta old and ya know it. Quit bein’ rude, we got a guest.”

Sophia giggles and Coretta can’t help but laugh with the little girl. At least the girl is still able to laugh. Coretta hopes she’ll be able to laugh a lot more once she’s back with her momma. Lord fuckin’ knows kids need a reason to laugh these days. Coretta figures she can take ‘em down to the creek and let ‘em have a mud fight or some shit if she don’t find the girl’s people tomorrow. Something to keep the sweet thing’s mind off the situation.

Chapter Text

Coretta goes hunting up the damn creek for a damn doll. She’s got Lucy and Red with her and they’re all muddy and wet and Coretta has already resigned herself to the shack smelling like wet fuckin’ dog for awhile. At least they ain’t barking. She don’t need them calling down every Corpse in the damn area again. Every damn time it’s a fuckin’ mess.

She cannot believe she’s looking for a damn doll. She can just imagine Wade laughing his fuckin’ ass off at her for this. Can just picture his pretty brown eyes shining with glee at the fact she’s marching around a muddy creek in the fuckin’ apocalypse looking for a damn doll. He’d be calling her a damn sentimental fool and she damn well knows it.

Of course, that’d be only after he got over the fact she brought a stray kid home. He’d be all pissy for awhile over that. Wade may have loved their boys more than life itself but she knows damn well they’d have never had a third kid, he was adamantly opposed to any extra mouths to feed. Until the fuckin’ apocalypse happened she’d been annoyed by that, had wanted one more. She gets it now, though. An extra mouth to feed ain’t feasible. Sophia’s a sweet girl, but Coretta needs to get her back to where she came from, she ain’t got enough food to feed three little kids for long.

Coretta hunts through the mud and rotten leaves and fallen branches. Glares irritably every time she has to kill another damn Corpse. There’s more than before and it’s making her edgy. Making her feel the need to load the truck up in case they need to go quick. She’s always been good at knowing when shit’s ‘bout to hit the fan and figures once she finds this girl’s people, it’ll be time for her to kiss the shack goodbye.

The dogs lose their shit a little some time in the afternoon and Coretta watches in fuckin’ bemusement as a damn horse, fully saddled up, hauls ass past them. Well, least she knows there’s a person somewhere around here. Hopefully the Corpses ain’t got ‘em. That’d be a real fuckin’ shame.

She sighs and climbs up outta the creek bed. Might as well go find the person. Maybe they’ll be one of Miss Sophia’s people. She whistles sharply to the dogs and waits until they’re back with her before heading in the direction the horse came from. Coretta ain’t sure this is a good idea, but worst comes to worst, she can always shoot an asshole.

She can hear some guy cursing up a fuckin’ storm after awhile of walking. Coretta raises an eyebrow as she listens. Sounds like he’s talking to his own damn self. Fuckin’ lunatic. She pauses at the top of one of the steep inclines by the creek and watches as a guy that looks like a fuckin’ nut job comes crawling up the side. Her dogs are at her side and bristling as they watch, but they stay quiet for now.

The man don’t notice her right away and it gives her a moment to look him over. He looks like absolute shit, frankly. There’s blood on his face and he looks like he took a nap in the damn mud. He’s got a crossbow and Coretta mentally calculates the chances he’ll shoot her if he startles. She don’t like her odds. She can see blood stains on his side and what looks like a shitty attempt at binding an injury. Coretta’s big question is what the fuck is up with the damn ears around his fuckin’ neck. That’s some trailer trash shit right there. She would know.

She tenses when she sees the doll he shoves into his back pocket. Fuck, that’s probably Sophia’s. Fuck. She hopes this is one of her people. She don’t get a moment to speak before her dogs bark at the man and startle him. Fuck, he’s got that crossbow aimed at her fuckin’ face before she can fuckin’ blink. She fuckin’ hates people.

“Who the fuck are ya?” His voice is rough and harsh and Coretta bristles at the accusatory tone.

“Don’t think that matters none. The fucks up with that doll?” Coretta narrows her eyes and raises her chin, he’ll kill her before she can do much so ain’t no point playing sweet and scared. She’s dead or she’s not. Not much else to it.

“Ain’t none of yer fuckin’ business, bitch,” He snarls at her and Coretta runs through the names Sophia so kindly gave her. He don’t look like a cop. So not Shane or Rick. He ain’t a girl. T-dog or Daryl.

Coretta makes a quick bet and braces for a bolt to the face, “Might damn well be my fuckin’ business, Daryl. Don’t need no fuckin’ child molesters out here so I hope ya got a damn good reason for wantin’ a doll.”

She can see the fury on his face at the comment. Can see the fuckin’ second it clicks she just called him by name, definitely his name from the momentary shock on his face. She gives him a nasty smile and pulls a cigarette out of her pocket and lights it. If he’s gonna kill her, she’d like one more smoke first.

“I ain’t a fuckin’ child molester, ya dumb fuckin’ cunt. How the hell ya know my fuckin’ name?” He looks like he’s got half a mind to throw that crossbow down and grab her.

“Tell me why ya got that damn doll and maybe I’ll tell ya,” Coretta throws back after blowing smoke out.

She can practically see him trying to keep from losing his shit on her. Can almost imagine the smoke coming outta his ears like one of those cartoons. Coretta don’t mind none. She’s dealt with her fair share of temperamental men and she ain’t fazed by it. If he were gonna kill her, she’s damn sure she’d be dead already.

“I’m lookin’ for a little girl. Now how the fuck ya know my name?” He grits out like it physically pains him to answer her.

“‘Lookin’ for a little girl.’ Sure sounds like some child molester shit,” Coretta drawls. This man may be part of Miss Sophia’s group but she ain’t giving the girl to anyone but her momma. Which means this crazy lookin’ fucker ain’t gonna be on the list of approved guardians until further fuckin’ notice.

“Bitch, I done fuckin’ told ya I ain’t a child molester. I’m lookin’ for a kid that got lost, her momma’s worried fuckin’ sick and I ain’t got time for yer shit.” The crossbow leaves her face but Coretta gets the feeling one wrong move and that’s gonna change.

Coretta takes a slow drag off her cigarette and blows the smoke out, “What’s this lil girl’s name?”

The man —Daryl, she supposes— squints at her like she’s planning to go murder the kid herself if he tells her. So fuckin’ distrustful. Ain’t like she didn’t have opportunity enough to kill him when he was hauling ass up the fuckin’ cliff. Still, he answers all pissed off like she’s askin’ for his kidney, “Her name’s Sophia and I ain’t got time to deal with ya.”

“Sophia Peletier?” She grins slow and sharp at the look of astonishment on his face.

“Ya found her?” He looks like he has half a mind to shake her until the girl falls outta her back pocket.

“Maybe I did. Where’s her momma?” Coretta sure as shit ain’t taking this man anywhere near her shack.

“Where’s Sophia?” He immediately counters.

Coretta shrugs, “Ain’t tellin’ a stranger shit like that. Ya want her, ya best tell me where I can find her momma, I ain’t interested in playin’ babysitter much longer.”

The man takes a step towards her like he’s actually gonna try something and Red starts growling the way Molly-dog does when people get too close to Mason, “Bitch, tell me where the fuck that lil girl is right fuckin’ now!”

“No. Tell me where I can take her and I’ll be happy to return her ta y’all but I ain’t takin’ any of ya with me ta get her. Matter of safety, ya understand,” Coretta is fairly confident this guy ain’t gonna kill her now that she’s got something he clearly wants.

“I ain’t doin’ that shit, I been lookin’ for this girl for three damn days! Ya fuckin’ take me to her now or I’ll shoot yer fuckin’ ass,” he raises the crossbow, anger clear on his face.

“Then I guess ya ain’t gonna find her, and you can explain ta Miss Carol why she ain’t gettin’ her baby back,” Coretta shrugs again carelessly, fully confident he’s bluffing. Killing her ain’t gonna get him what he wants. She notice he’s swaying a bit and figures that injury on his side is probably not doing him any favors. She could almost assuredly out run him if she needs to. It’s that crossbow that’s the issue.

There’s a moment she thinks he might shoot her anyway before the fuckin’ bow drops again and he starts cursing up another storm. Coretta is content to wait him out. Finally the man stops and glares at her, “We’re at a fuckin’ farm. Ya gonna take me ta this girl right fuckin’ now.”

“I don’t think so. It’s gettin’ late and I ain’t marchin’ that lil thing all through the woods at night. She’s real skittish and I ain’t feelin’ inclined ta chasin’ her. I sure as shit ain’t feelin’ inclined ta bringin’ ya ‘round my people,” Coretta is happy to bring the girl to her group now that she’s got an idea of where they are, just not tonight. Coretta ain’t about to drag a little girl through the woods crawling with Corpses at night.

“Excuse me?” His tone gets dark and murderous.

“Which farm y’all at? I’ll bring her by in the damn mornin’. I ain’t makin’ her walk through the woods at night and ya ain’t comin’ near my people,” Coretta ain’t backing down. She’s doing these people a damn favor and she sure as shit ain’t gonna be pushed by this man to do anything she don’t wanna do.

“Listen here, bitch, that little girl’s momma is half outta her mind with worry and I am bringin’ her home tonight. Ya can either take her ta me now, without a damn bolt in yer fuckin’ ass or ya can do it with a bolt in yer ass. I don’t give a shit which, but yer gonna take me ta her right fuckin’ now,” He sounds likes he’s fighting not to curse her out.

“My name ain’t bitch, ya fuckin’ dipshit, and threats ain’t gonna get ya nowhere. I ain’t takin’ ya anywhere near my people. ‘Specially not when ya look like a fuckin’ methhead,” Coretta don’t need Mason gettin’ any ideas about fuckin’ ear necklaces.

Coretta gets the feeling she’s playing with a bomb as the muscles in his arms twitch. Oh, he’s good and pissed. She gets it, she does, but she don’t want anyone knowing where her and her boys sleep. Safer this way even if she feels a bit guilty keeping Sophia away from her momma one more night. She gotta put her boys first.

She watches him squint at her for a moment as she takes a drag of her cigarette. She don’t like the look he’s givin’ her, like he’s plotting shit out. She ain’t brought her bow with her today, needs to make more arrows for it, so all she’s got on her are the buck knife and her handgun. The dogs are growling and barking up a storm beside her as the silence stretches on. She eyes him warily as he puts the crossbow on his back and tenses up.

She don’t like that look at all. Like he’s a wolf or some shit and she’s a deer. Coretta can see where this is about to go and flicks her cigarette at his face. She turns and bolts, dogs hauling ass right beside her. She can hear him cursing behind her as he gives chase. Coretta don’t give a shit. She ain’t running back to her shack and he’s injured. She’ll win this little race of theirs so long as she don’t slow down.

Coretta ain’t expecting the fuckin’ injured idiot to tackle her from behind. It’s a quick, dirty struggle and she manages twice to knee him right over his injury before he gets her pinned. He’s breathing hard and glaring down at her, “Listen, sweetheart, I ain’t interested in yer people. I just want the damn girl back. It ain’t that fuckin’ hard ta understand.”

Coretta narrows her eyes up at him as Red and Lucy bark and snap at him, “yer gonna get her back, but I ain’t takin’ ya ta her. I’ll bring her ta ya, not the other way ‘round.”

He slaps a palm down on the ground beside her head and she goes still as stone. She ain’t looking to get beat today but she ain’t gonna give away her boys’ safety. His lips curl back like he wants to snarl like her dogs, “Take me ta the damn girl or ya ain’t goin’ back ta yer people tonight.”

That makes Coretta twitch a little. She can’t leave her boys alone over night. She can’t fuckin’ do that shit. From the gleam in his eyes she can tell he knows he got her. Can see he knows that he won. He may not be able to kill her, but he can damn well make her life hell if she don’t do as he asks.

“Get that injury taken care of first, dumbass. Yer bleedin’ on me,” Coretta grits out. She glares silently up at him as he drags her to her feet along with him. The man keeps a tight grip on her upper arm as he takes her gun and knife and drags her along behind him. Fuckin’ asshole, she can walk just fuckin’ fine on her own. Lucy and Red trot along beside them as Coretta thinks up ways to be the biggest pain in the ass this man’s ever met for forcing her hand like this. Fuckin’ hell, she ain’t ever letting Mason bring strays home again. It ain’t fuckin’ worth the trouble.

Chapter Text

Coretta glares at the side of Daryl’s head as he drags her along beside him. The dogs are trailing after them and Coretta starts thinking about whether she could shake him loose. He’s limping along, that side injury starting to catch up with him, she’d bet Red on it. Coretta is fuckin’ pissed, but more than that, she can feel her anxiety rising the closer they get to wherever the hell he’s taking her. She ain’t been around people in two months, the idea of a whole group of strangers is enough to make her breathing increase and her heart start trying to beat outta her chest. She doesn’t want to fuckin’ do this.

The fuckin’ idiot who’s dragging her can feel her arm tensing as she fights the urge to try and break loose and gives her a dark glare, “Don’t even fuckin’ try it, woman.”

“Ain’t tryin’ nothin’, ya piece of fuckin’ shit. We had an agreement, remember? Ya get yerself fixed up, I take ya ta Sophia,” She hisses at him.

He snorts like he doesn’t buy for a second she’ll keep up her end of that bargain, but doesn’t speak again. Which is fair. She feels the urge to get the fuck away increasing second by second. First chance she gets, she ain’t ashamed to admit to herself, she’s gonna bolt. She has her boys to get back to and now she’s got a good idea of where to take Miss Sophia. She don’t need to linger. Ain’t fuckin’ interested in making friends.

The window of opportunity closes as they get close to the tree line and she can see a fuckin’ R.V. out in a field. Coretta hisses at her hound dogs to stay as Daryl keeps dragging her along. They whine and complain but obey. Coretta don’t need her dogs getting fuckin’ stolen or some shit. She likes the damn things for all the trouble they can cause.

She watches warily as her panic rises and four men come hauling ass towards them. They’re shouting and Daryl ain’t talking and her breathing is getting faster. Coretta don’t wanna be here at fuckin’ all. She glares at the big man with the short as shit hair that’s eyeing her like she’s a disease while the smaller guy points a gun a Daryl’s head. Yeah, Coretta ain’t likin’ this at all.

Daryl don’t seem to happy about the gun to his head and growls out, “That’s the third time ya pointed that thing at my head, ya gonna pull the trigger or what?”

Coretta watches with sharp eyes as the gun falls to the man’s side. Daryl jerks her arm a bit and opens his mouth to speak and a shot rings out. He’s hitting the ground and Coretta is free again and she’s fuckin’ gone. She pauses long enough to grab her knife outta his pants and hauls ass away as the shouting and chaos behind her begins. She whistles sharply to the dogs and hears Daryl yelling weakly about how they need to catch her and decides she ain’t fuckin’ stopping for shit.

Coretta’s not sure any of them actually chase her but she ain’t gonna stop running. She knows where Sophia goes now and it’ll be fine. She’ll take the girl there tomorrow and get the fuck outta this place. She feels a bit bad about the man getting shot but not enough to stop running. Let them deal with their own damn problems. She’s helping that group enough by keeping Miss Sophia alive.

She’s panting and her legs are shaking from exertion by the time she and the dogs make it back to the shack. The dogs collapse on the group panting hard as she bends over and puts her hands on her knees. Her boys and Miss Sophia creep outta the shack as she works to catch her breath.

“Mrs. Coretta? Are you okay?” Miss Sophia sounds like she’s worried they’re in danger.

Coretta breathes hard for a moment before looking at the girl and smiling, “Sure am, Honey. I found yer people. I’ll be takin’ ya to ‘em tomorrow. How’s that sound?”

Sophia looks surprised before a wide grin spreads across her face, “Thank you so much for helping me, ma’am.”

Coretta waves off the thanks and straightens up, “Mason help me load up the truck, we’re gonna leave soon, ain’t nothin’ for us here.”

Keston is the one to ask the question she’s been dreading, “What ‘bout Daddy?”

“I’ll leave a note, he’ll find it,” Coretta ain’t ready to break the news their daddy probably ain’t fuckin’ coming. She don’t know how to tell them that.

“Where we gonna go?” Mason tilts his head.

“I’ll figure that out tomorrow. Don’t ya worry, just help me load up,” Coretta sets to work putting the canned food and moonshine in the truck’s tool box along with cases of ammo. Mason runs around carrying trash bags of clothes that get thrown unceremoniously into the bed of the pick up. She’ll put weapons and dogs and blankets in the backseat of the truck tomorrow. Coretta figures further they get between them and the idiots in Sophia’s group the safer it’ll be. She ain’t a fan of people who shoot their own friends.

She feeds the kids and dogs more squirrel jerky that night and sits and drinks moonshine as the three kids curl up on that shitty mattress in a pile with the dogs. She’s got the jar in one hand and a cigarette in another and neither are helping her calm down. She don’t like people at all in the apocalypse. Ain’t a fan of the crazy that apparently comes with ‘em now. She wants nothing to do with ‘em. Being alone with her boys may be a bit more difficult, but she thinks it’s safer. Less wildcards. They’ll be fine so long as they’re left the fuck alone.

Coretta’s eyes slide to the girl curled up with little Keston’s head on her leg. Miss Sophia is a sweet girl and Coretta’s quickly grown fond of her, but she needs this girl gone. Needs her with her group and where no more trouble can get brought to Coretta’s family. Keeping the girl around any longer than she has to is gonna get her kids killed. By Corpses or people, Coretta ain’t sure, but she ain’t risking it anymore. Time for the sleepover to come to an end.

Coretta leans her head back against the wall and blows smoke out into the darkness. Just a few more hours and it’ll all be fine again. Just gotta wait a little longer. Just gotta be patient like her momma was. Just a bit longer. Coretta can do that. It’ll be fine and soon it’ll be just her and the boys again and things will be back to their new normal.

Chapter Text

Morning comes too soon and Coretta’s head is pounding from the moonshine she drank the night before. That was a fuckin’ mistake. She lets the kids sleep in while she lets the dogs out and starts moving guns and the bows and arrows into the car. A glance at the sun tells her it’s probably ten or eleven in the morning. She needs a fuckin’ watch or something, telling time by the sun position was Wade’s thing, not hers.

Coretta chews on a piece of dried squirrel or maybe it’s rabbit, she’s too hung over to really give a shit about it as she goes about filling the truck’s gas tank. It takes two of the gas cans and she sighs at the knowledge she’s gonna have to go siphon gas. That’s gonna be a pain in the damn ass. She throws all the gas cans in the bed of the truck with a shake of her head. The truck is great, but it takes a shit load of gas. She’s always hated that about trucks.

She goes back inside and glances at the three children curled up and snoring on the mattress. Keston is drooling and Mason is twitching. Miss Sophia is curled up like a cat between the brothers. Coretta will wake them soon, but she figures letting them sleep a bit more can’t hurt. She rounds up every carton of cigarettes Wade’s stashed around the place, far more than she’d initially expected, she smokes outta stress mostly, but he was a fuckin’ chain smoker and it shows. She throws all those into the glove compartment of the truck. Ain’t no point letting ‘em go to waste.

Coretta hums and considers what else she needs to put in the truck. The toilet paper. And tampons. She’s got a couple months supply of birth control left on account of having the shit mailed to her and never fuckin’ canceling that even after she quit birth control ‘cause it made her nauseous, but when that runs out she’s gonna need tampons again. Ain’t no way she’s leaving those behind.

Little Keston comes outta the shack rubbing his eyes and yawning as big as he can and Coretta smiles a bit at the sight, “Mornin’, baby, sleep well?”

Big brown eyes blink up at her as he nods a bit, “Yeah, Momma. Gotta pee now.”

Coretta snorts a laugh and gestures to the general area, “Go ahead, ain’t like ya didn’t piss on the side of the shack yesterday.”

Keston don’t need another word to do just that. Her littlest baby is getting real comfortable real quick with pissing wherever he damn well pleases when he’s outside. Even Mason likes to walk away from sight for a minute. Not Keston though. Boy is growing up feral and Coretta don’t mind none so long as he gets to grow up. Not like manners matter much in the apocalypse.

Mason comes stumbling outta the shack next and immediately wants food. Coretta hand him the dried meat with a good natured laugh. Boy has been eating a lot. She figures he’ll be hitting a growth spurt or some shit soon. Bottomless fuckin’ pit.

Coretta sets to work filling plastic bottles up with the boiled water so they have something to drink as her boys work on eating and waking up. She ignores them feeding the dogs as much as themselves. Things are quiet and Coretta would enjoy the nice weather more if her head wasn’t pounding. Drinking that fuckin’ shine was a mistake. Always fuckin’ is.

Coretta figures she’ll take the kids down to the creek and they’ll all wash the dirt off ‘em before leaving. Ain’t no reason to be covered in dirt and mud just cus they live in the damn woods. Especially not when there’s a perfectly good creek near by. Ain’t no reason for being nasty right now. Coretta still ain’t sure where she’s gonna take the boys, but she figures she can figure that out on the road. Once the headache is gone.

A sharp gasp from her boys has Coretta grabbing the deer rifle and stand up before she can think. Her boys are crouched down with the dogs that are barking up a storm now and staring at the man watching them silently. Fuckin’ Daryl. He looks a bit better than the day before if she discounts the Bandages on his head. No fuckin’ ear necklace, thank the lord. He’s squinting real hard at her boys and her, she can see his eyes flick around the little area and flick back to them over and over. She don’t like it.

“Can I fuckin’ help ya?” Coretta grinds out, rifle aimed nicely at his damn head. One move towards her boys and she’ll blow his head off. Friend of Sophia’s or not.

“Yeah, here ta get Sophia, where she at?” Coretta doesn’t like the way he keeps squinting down at her boys. She can’t read his fuckin’ expression and it puts her on edge.

She ain’t expecting Mason to shoot to his feet and glare up at the man. She ain’t expecting the language that comes outta his mouth, either. She knew she should have tried harder to get Wade to clean his language up around the boys, “Hell ya want with Sophia? She ain’t yer fuckin’ kid! Her daddy got fuckin’ ate. She told me so!”

Coretta chokes a little at the language, “Mason! Get yer butt inside! Now! Keston, ya too. Don’t wanna hear another word from either of y’all!”

Mason glares up at Daryl like he can make him disappear with willpower alone. Daryl just keeps squinting down at the boy like he’s trying to work out a math problem or some shit. Keston, at least, has the good damn sense to go inside immediately, calling Molly-dog to go with him. The stupid fuckin’ pitbull is happy to follow her baby into the shack. Mason doesn’t budge, just keeps glaring at the man.

“Mason! Don’t make me tan yer hide!” Coretta snaps, sick of her boy being near a stranger.

Mason glares up at Daryl a moment longer and snarls, “I’ll kill ya if ya touch my momma!”

Daryl just keeps staring at the kid even as the boy runs inside the shack and outta sight. Coretta don’t like that shit at all and snaps out, “I’d like ta remind ya, I told ya I’d bring her ta ya, just in case that bullet fucked yer memory or somethin’.”

“Ya also said ya’d bring me ta her if I got fixed up. Seems ya ain’t much for honesty,” His gaze swings away from the shack and back to her, “Where the rest of yer people?”

Coretta narrows her eyes and dodges that question, “I’ll get ya Sophia now and ya’ll can go yer merry way. Yer welcome by the way, she ain’t dead.”

Daryl starts chewing the side of his thumb as he watches her move towards the shack’s door, never taking the rifle off him. Coretta don’t know what the hell is going through the man’s head but she’s already had her fill of his shit for the next damn decade. She takes her eyes and rifle off him long enough to open the door, “Mason, wake Sophia up. It’s time for her ta go. Make sure ta give her some food for the road.”

Mason looks furious as he obeys. He shakes the girl awake and hands the tired little thing some meat. There, Coretta’s done her good deed for the month. Kid is alive, fed, and going back to her momma. Life is ‘bout to go back to normal.

Sophia looks blearily over at Coretta, “Miss Coretta? What’s happening?”

“One of yer people are here ta get ya, when yer ready, he’ll take ya home. No rush,” Coretta smiles tightly at the girl. There’s definitely a rush but she’s not gonna worry the poor thing. She don’t like upsetting kids if she can help it, “Boys, face the wall when she’s changin’.”

Satisfied, the kids are gonna listen she closes the door again and glares at the man as he walks around her little camp. Lucy and Red are baying loudly at his presence, but he pays them no more attention than a few glances as he circles the area. She don’t like the way he’s looking things over. She don’t like the way he keeps glancing at her and the door to the shack. It makes her feel like he’s about to do some stupid shit she’s gonna have to shoot him for.

“There a problem?” She snaps when she can’t stand the silence anymore.

“Where yer people, woman? You said ya had people,” He sounds a bit confused, a bit frustrated.

“Ya saw ‘em. Mason and Keston and the dogs. All I got and all I need,” Coretta ain’t liking the fact she can’t tell what’s going on in his head.

“How the hell y’all still alive then? Ya just leave ‘em alone all day? Don’tcha know there’s fuckin’ Walkers out here?” He looks like he’s struggling to work out a difficult math problem again.

“My boys are perfectly fine, thank ya kindly. We’ve made it this far,” Coretta eyes him as he tries to get Lucy to let him pet her. The blue-tick coonhound ain’t having it and just backs up, baying her heart out.

“How old those kids?” He’s chewing his thumb again.

“Eight and four,” Coretta don’t like where this is going.

“It’s just y’all and the damn dogs?”

“Ain’t no one else,” Coretta lowers the rifle and watches him carefully. He’s moving slowly, probably being careful of stitches if she had to guess.

“What’s yer name?”

“Coretta,” She ain’t feeling inclined to giving her full name.

He nods a bit and goes back to looking around all squinty eyed still as he looks over the perimeter of dead Corpses and the bottles and cans hanging on strings. Coretta don’t have a clue what’s going through his head but he’s calmer than he was the day before and she takes that as a good sign.

Miss Sophia finally comes out, chewing on what’s probably squirrel and chirps, “Hi, Daryl!”

Daryl’s eyes lock on the girl like he thought Coretta was fuckin’ with him and wasn’t actually expecting the girl to be here. His eyes go wide and he relaxes a bit, clearly relieved, “Girl, ya good? Yer momma’s worried sick.”

Sophia smiles brightly, “Miss Coretta’s been taking care of me, she’s real sweet! Mason showed me how to skin a squirrel the other day!”

Coretta snickers a bit at the blatant surprise on the man’s face, “Told ya she was alive. Yer welcome.”

Daryl’s eyes flick back to her and he nods a bit, “Yeah, thanks for takin’ care of her. Coulda just stuck ‘round yesterday and not run off, though.”

“My boys needed me, it wasn’t an option,” Coretta sniffs and shoots a glare down at the boys that have snuck out behind Sophia. Keston looks like he wants to cry now that his new friend is leaving. Mason looks like he wants to use Daryl for target practice.

Sophia doesn’t seem at all bothered by the harsh tone Coretta’s using with the man, just turns and hugs Coretta ‘round the waist and squeezes as hard has her skinny arms can manage, “Thank you for helping me.”

Coretta smoothes the girl’s hair down with one hand and smiles a bit down at her, “Let’s not make it a habit of gettin’ lost in the woods, alright? I ain’t gonna be there to save ya next time.”

Sophia nods before looking sad, “You’re leaving now, right? So I won’t get to see Mason and Keston anymore?”

Keston does start crying then. Quiet sobs that shake the little guy’s shoulders as he twists his shirt in her hands. Shit. She didn’t realize how quick her sons got attached to the girl. Mason looks like he wants to beg Coretta to just keep Sophia and say fuck off to the man.

Coretta shrugs, “Ain’t nothin’ here for us. Gotta move on.”

Daryl is chewing his thumb again and keeps glancing over at the truck. If he tries to steal if, she’ll kill him. She ain’t ready for what he tosses out, “Ya should load yer boys in the truck. Ain’t safe for y’all bein’ out here alone. Need a group.”

“Ain’t got a group. Groups mean trouble,” Coretta retorts.

“More eyes watchin’ yer boys, safer it is for ‘em,” he counters, eyes on her boys again.

“And how’d that work out for Miss Sophia? She still ended up lost in the damn woods,” Coretta points out.

Problem is Sophia’s latched onto the idea, “Oh! You could come with us! My mom would be really happy to meet you! And Carl’s there and Mason and Keston could have another friend! And the dogs would have more people to play with! It’d be great!”

Coretta’s eye twitches a little as both of her boys start begging. Of course they’d want friends. Kids need people. She just don’t want people. She glares at the man who caused this new issue for her. He just shrugs and tries to get Red to come over. The redbone coonhound doesn’t come any closer than Lucy did. Fuckin’ Molly-dog sure does though, the stupid thing runs up to Daryl like she’s known him her whole damn life and practically throws herself at his feet. Of course that dog would like the man.

“Please, Momma?” Mason stares up at her all wide eyed. Of course he’d jump on the chance to stay with his new friend.

“Baby, we don’t even know these people. I doubt they want more people in their group,” Coretta tries to argue, too bad Daryl has to contradict her.

“Ain’t no one gonna make ya go if ya come with me, I won’t let ‘em turn y’all out after what ya did for Sophia. Her momma wouldn’t either,” Daryl sounds like it physically pains him to be nice. Like it’s not a skill he possesses and trying is turning out harder than he expected.

Coretta glares at him before sighing and looking down at the there sets of hopeful, pleading eyes staring up at her. God fuckin’ dammit. Why’d he have to get them all worked up like this? She chews the inside of her mouth for a second before shaking her head, “We’d be free ya leave whenever we want?”

Daryl shrugs, “Ain’t no one gonna make ya stay if ya don’t want ta.”

Fuck. She works her jaw, “Get the damn dogs and get in the truck. I ain’t in the mood for this crap right now,” She looks at Daryl and glares, “Yer drivin’, I don’t know where I’m goin’.”

She ignores the children’s gleeful cheers as they start rounding the dogs up. Ignores Daryl watchin’ the kids and tosses him the damn keys. She ain’t happy about this, but she figures lettin’ the boys have a day with two other kids can’t hurt. They’ll just leave if it don’t go well. Ain’t like they’re gonna get attached to everyone in the damn group. Hopefully her kids will lose interest in Sophia and this Carl kid quick enough.

Chapter Text

It’s an awkward drive. At least for the adults. Coretta sits in the passenger seat with Keston in her lap and Molly-dog in the floorboard while Lucy and Red are squeezed into the back seat with Sophia and Mason. Daryl is driving her truck and keeps glancing at the kids in the back with the rearview mirror or side eyeing her and Keston. She gets the feeling he wasn’t fuckin’ expecting just her and a pair of young boys when he tracked them down. She suspects that was a bit of a shock for the man. If the way he keeps looking at her and the kids is any fuckin’ indication, anyway.

Keston stares at the man the whole way and Coretta has a feeling it’s making Daryl nervous. When her son reaches out and real carefully taps the man on the arm, he jumps a bit like he’s been electrocuted and eyes her son like he’s an alien. Doesn’t say shit though. Just eyes him. Coretta wonders if he’s ever been around kids under ten before.

Keston does it again and again until Daryl speaks, “Yeah, lil man?”

Keston tilts his head real far to the side, “Yer our friend?”

Coretta eyes the man warningly. She don’t need him lying to her son, but she don’t want him hurting the boy’s feelings either. Daryl shifts in the seat like someone shoved hot coals under his ass, “Think ya should clear that with yer momma.”

Keston dutifully turns his big doe eyes to her, “Momma? He our friend?”

“Up ta ya, baby. Long as he’s nice ta ya,” Coretta thinks that’s as diplomatic as she can be.

Keston turns back to look at the man, “Ya know how ta catch frogs?”

Coretta snorts a bit. Her baby loves catching frogs. Thinks it’s great fun. Of course he’d wanna know if Daryl could do that too. Daryl glances at her a bit like he’s hoping she’ll get Keston to leave him alone before answering real slow, “Yeah?”

“Ya good at it? Mason says I ain’t good at it,” Keston says it so earnestly.

Mason pipes up from the back, “That’s cause ya let ‘em go. We ain’t supposed to let ‘em go. Momma supposed to cook ‘em.”

Keston twists around in her arms to glare at his brother, “Do not!”

“Do too! Yer always lettin’ ‘em go ‘cause ya think it’s more fun that way!” Mason sounds like if he could he’d be wrestling with Keston already. Coretta is gonna die laughing the day Keston is big enough to get the better of him.

Keston sticks his tongue out and looks back up at Daryl, “So ya any good at it?”

Daryl looks like he wishes he weren’t there, “I guess?”

“Cool. Ya kill any Corpses? Momma kills ‘em all the time. Mason killed a couple too, but he says I’m too little,” Keston continues forcing conversation onto the quiet redneck.

“Some. Yer too little. They’d eat ya in one bite, kid,” He sounds like he’s trying to warn her kid and make a joke at the same time. Coretta gives him points for the attempt. And his patience. She didn’t figure he’d tolerate her boy’s talking much.  It’s a nice surprise.

Keston stares at the man for a minute before continuing, “Ya sound like Daddy when he won’t let me use the big bow.”

Coretta closes her eyes at the mention of Wade. Keston’s been talking more and more about him and she’s yet to find a good a way to break it to him and Mason. At least Mason is catching on on his own. Might make it a bit fuckin’ easier. She hopes anyway. Daryl doesn’t say anything back to that but she can feel his eyes on her for a moment before he turns his full attention back to the road.

Coretta adjusts her hold on the child in her lap and looks out the window as Daryl turns them onto a long road that she guesses leads up to the farm he’d been taking her the day before. It’s a pretty place as they drive up. Nice pretty fields and a nice farmhouse. Like something outta a movie. Real nice place. Coretta used to dream of a house like that when she was real small before momma died and daddy started drinking. She can hardly remember those dreams anymore, but she knows she used to want a house like this one real bad.

Daryl parks her truck right up alongside a motorcycle, turns the truck off and tosses her the keys, “C’mon, Carol’s waiting for Sophia. Will the dogs stay by the truck?”

“If I tell them too,” Coretta assures him. For all she bitches about how dumb her dogs can be, all three follow the commands they know. She wasn’t ‘bout to have shitty trained dogs in her house.

Coretta gets out slowly and puts Keston on her hip. Commands the dogs to stay sharply, and locks the doors behind Mason. Daryl leads them around to where she can see a group of people near the porch and hollers, “Carol! I got Sophia!”

A thin woman with shorn grey hair breaks from the group with a small shriek of joy, “Sophia! Baby! Oh, Sophia!”

Coretta steps aside and pulls Mason with her as the mother and daughter run to each other. Carol is on her knees and holding the girl like she thought she’d never see her again and crying as she clutches her. Coretta feels like she’s witnessing a private moment. She tenses when the rest of the group shakes the shock off and runs over too, all of ‘em clambering to see their little lost lamb.

Coretta keeps still and quiet with her boys beside her and looks to Daryl for some sense of direction. Some fuckin’ idea of what to do. He’s just watching all narrow eyed as the girl gets crushed by one hug after another. Coretta feels like she’s intruding. She and her boys probably shouldn’t be here, that’s the feeling she gets until the grey haired woman finally stands up and wipes her tears and smiles at her, “You were keeping my Sophia safe?”

Coretta bounces Keston higher on her hip and shrugs a bit, “Did what I could.”

She’s not expecting the hug. She goes stock still and tightens her grip on Keston involuntarily. This is the second hug she’s gotten from a stranger today and Coretta’s not sure how to respond. The woman releases her and offers a watery, “Thank you.”

Coretta nods a bit and looks away uncomfortable with the attention suddenly on her, “Yer welcome.”

Carol seems to realize she’s not comfortable and goes to thank Daryl next. He seems ten times as uncomfortable as Coretta was with the attention. Mason’s grip on her free hand tightens when the other people approach them, a mixture of curiosity and distrust on their faces. Coretta’s face goes into the blank, mildly unfriendly stare she used back in the trailer park when Jesse tried to get her to give him cash for his habit.

The first to approach her is the man that pointed a gun at Daryl the day before, “Rick Grimes, ma’am, and this is Shane Walsh. It’s a pleasure to meet you and your boys.”

Mason steps between her and the man and stares warily up at him. Her baby thinks he can take on the whole damn world, she swears it. Coretta smiles tightly at the man and tugs Mason back, “Coretta Evans. Nice ta meet ya.”

“And who are these guys?” He gestures for her boys. Coretta thinks he’s genuine, if a bit wary. He’s definitely being polite until she gives him a reason to not trust her.

“Boys, introduce yerselves,” Coretta prompts them.

“Keston,” is all her littlest baby says.

“I’m Mason!” Mason declares it like they should already know his name.

“Nice to meet you boys,” Rick turns his attention back to her with a quick glance towards the dogs by her truck, “You were takin’ care of Sophia for us?”

“Sure was. Little girl was cryin’ in the damn woods, was gonna get eaten by a damn Corpse with all the racket she was makin’,” Coretta drawls out, not seeing a damn point in sugarcoating it.

The bigger guy— Shane— looks like he doesn’t like her one bit, “Well, good thing you were there, wasn’t it?”

Coretta eyes him. She knows a rabid dog when she sees one. Knows the signs of a dog that’ll bite any hand that gets near it for no reason other than that it can. She’s always been of the opinion they’re best gotten rid of. This man looks to her like a rabid dog. She doesn’t smile at him, just states plainly, “Shouldn’t’ve been needed, truth be told.”

“Right. Didn’t realize that redneck would be bringin’ back more than just Sophia,” He looks like he’s already passed judgement on her and her boys.

“Surprise,” Is all she offers in return to that.

He smiles at her and she thinks it looks more like a grimace. She makes a mental note to keep the boys away from him. The dogs too, just in case.

The Asian kid waves at Keston who immediately decides there’s too much going on and hides his face in her neck, “I’m Glenn Rhee, sorry if we scared you yesterday, you ran outta here pretty fast.”

“Being dragged off by a stranger then having a gun fired in yer general direction will do that ta a person,” She says dryly.

“I did not drag ya here, woman! We had an agreement!” Daryl hollers at her from where he’s talking to Carol.

“Ya wouldn’t let go of my arm, that’s draggin’,” Coretta snaps back.

“I’m Theodore, everyone calls me T-dog though, were y’all just out there alone?” The black guy introduces himself with a wide, genuine smile.

“Sure was!” Mason answers proudly for her.

T-dog laughs and gives the kid a high five, “Brave kid. Bet that was an adventure for you.”

Coretta laughs a little as Mason starts telling the big man all about skinning squirrels and catching frogs and killing a few Corpses. Mason is definitely not ashamed of the way they’ve been living. Proud little brat. She doesn’t like the way the adults all look a bit uneasy at her son’s account of their lives. Daryl seems to be the only one unfazed by it.

The pretty woman who looks like she ain’t done a day’s hard work in her life looks at Keston with a motherly smile on her face before giving Coretta a much more reserved look, “Lori Grimes, I’m Rick’s wife.”

Coretta doesn’t miss the dark look that passes across Shane’s face for a moment as the woman says that. Coretta’s definitely not letting her kids near this man. She nods at the woman, “Pleasure ya meet ya.”

“Where were you stayin’?” The woman gets right to the point.

Mason answers proudly before Coretta can open her mouth, “Daddy’s Shine shack!”

Coretta woulda said hunting cabin, but that is what Wade called it, “Baby, why don’t ya go play with Molly-dog? She’s probably bored. Don’t leave my sight.”

Mason glances back at his big brown and white pit and smiles, “Okay, Momma!”

Coretta watches him as he runs off towards the dogs, calling Molly-dog to him. Red and Lucy’s ears perk up but they stay where they are, even as their tails wag madly.

“Cute dogs,” Glenn offers, though Lori looks profoundly uncomfortable at the sight of them.

“Thanks. The hounds are my husband’s. The pit is Mason’s,” Coretta offers, “They love kids. Ain’t ever bit someone in their lives.”

“You’ll have to talk to the owner of this place if you intend to keep them here,” Lori says it like she’s expecting Coretta to get kicked to the curb.

“I’m sure that won’t be an issue, Hershel’s a vet, remember?” Rick jumps in before Coretta can say a word.

“So where’s your husband?” Shane cuts in real quick.

Keston pulls back from hiding in her neck to look up at her and she can feel Daryl’s eyes on her again. She shrugs, “Went huntin’ a week before shit hit the damn fan, ain’t heard from him since. Take from that what ya will.”

It’s nothin’ Keston doesn’t already know. Nothin’ that would get the poor thing all twisted up. It’s the safest and most honest way she’s got of explaining the situation. The truth without saying what it fuckin’ means. Coretta’s taken to wearing her wedding ring on a chain around her neck lately, figures if she finds Wade again, she can just move it back to her hand.

“Damn, sorry to hear that,” T-dog offers after an awkward pause.

“Ain’t no need for apologies. I imagine it ain’t an uncommon story these days,” Coretta waves it off, not wanting to think about the husband she ain’t had time to mourn. The husband she’d just tucked away in the back of her head to mourn at a later date.

Keston’s bottom lip puffs out a bit and her baby says in a real tiny voice, “Mason says daddy ain’t comin’ back.”

Coretta’s gonna tan Mason’s fuckin’ hide. She don’t know when that boy said that shit, but she’s fuckin’ pissed. He ain’t supposed to be saying shit like that. She pets Keston’s messy blonde hair, “That so, baby?”

He nods and Coretta grits her teeth at the pity evident in everyone’s eyes, “Well, sounds like Mason wants his butt whooped, why don’t ya go let him know he’s in trouble?”

Coretta sets Keston down and gives him a gentle shove towards his older brother. She ain’t sure where Mason thinks it’s alright to be saying that shit to Keston, but she ain’t having it. Let him stew a bit before she gets to the discipline bit. Ain’t no rush. He ain’t a dog that needs to be disciplined as soon as they make a mistake. He can sit and think for a bit.

“Cute kids,” Shane says dryly.

“I’m well aware, I do hope they ain’t gonna cause ya problems,” Coretta pulls a cigarette out and lights it, watching each of their faces as she does. Lori wrinkles her nose and a hand goes to her stomach. Well, now, ain’t that interesting. Coretta ain’t stupid. Girl’s only be putting their hands like that, all protective and shit, for one reason. Coretta considers offering congratulations but don’t think that’d be real polite. Maybe some other fuckin’ time.

Coretta’s eyes slide over to the two people approaching the group from the RV. An old man and a blonde. The old man looks friendly enough, but that blonde looks like she’s itching for a fight or some shit. Like she’s got issues up the ass and don’t know what to do with ‘em. Coretta ain’t real interested in whatever drama that one brings to the table.

She smiles a bit at the group she’s already with and walks over to Daryl, cigarette dangling from her lips, “Didn’t warn me ya had a whole damn circus here.”

He squints at her, “Yer the one with the fuckin’ zoo.”

Coretta smirks a bit and exhales smoke as she glances over at the boys, “So which of these fuckers shot ya? Need ta know who not ta let ‘round my kids.”

Daryl looks like his patience for people is running thin but he answers with a jerk of his head towards the blonde that’s fast approaching, “Andrea, she’s a shit shot.”

Coretta hums a bit, “I’ll keep that in mind. Any other advice?”

Daryl eyes her a bit, “Yeah, Watch out for Shane. He ain’t right in the damn head.”

Coretta nods at that, she already figured that one. Guess she ain’t the only one who can see a rabid dog for what it is. She gives the rough man a smile before stepping forward to greet the newcomers. Might as well try and be friendly. Ain’t like there’s much else to do.

Chapter Text

Carl got shot. She learns that listening to Mason and Sophia pester Rick about him. Coretta grimaces at hearing it, a hunting accident more or less. Poor kid nearly died and is still getting better. Damn. Coretta ain’t ever liked hurt kids, always made her heart ache a bit of ‘em. She makes sure to warn her boys that if they meet the kid, they gotta be easy on him for a bit. Gunshot wounds ain’t a quick heal.

Coretta finds she likes the Greene family. Hershel’s a bit set in his ways but he’s a good man, likes her dogs just fine too. Keeps scratching ‘em behind the ears whenever they come near him. Even gave her a free fuckin’ check up for ‘em. Molly-dog’s a bit on the skinny side apparently and needs to eat more. She works out a deal with him regarding her guns, she leaves ‘em all unloaded and locked in her truck and she can stick ‘round. She don’t mind that, guns make too much noise for her taste most of the time. She don’t need to call the Corpses down on her. Maggie’s just a couple years younger than her and Coretta finds her to be tough as nails real quick. Girl don’t seem to take any bullshit from anyone. Little Miss Beth is her favorite though. Sweet as fuckin’ sugar and takes to Keston real quick. Coretta has a feeling if she ain’t careful the little blonde girl is gonna steal her baby. She ain’t sure the girl is made for surviving this world, but she hopes she manages it, be a damn shame if someone so nice got killed.

Coretta sits on the bed of her truck and keeps a distance from the group as she watches her boys play with Sophia. Tag she thinks it is. She ain’t sure what she should be doing but for now she’s content to just watch her babies play. She ain’t had time to do that in a good while. She’s feeling damn good, the Greene family has let her and the boys use their bathroom to clean up and seeing her boys clean makes her happy as fuckin’ hell. Turns out their tans were half dirt. Seeing herself clearly in a mirror for the first time in two months wasn’t near as pleasing. She looks like hell even after shower. She can tell she’s lost weight. Her face is all sharp looking and she figures skipping meals to see her boys fed while running ‘round the damn woods all day didn’t do her any damn favors, the weight loss makes her eyes look all big and shit and she ain’t sure how she feels about it, but cutting the dead ends off her hair was a godsend. Getting the grease outta it was better though. Fuck, her hair has always been fine and it makes her look like a greasy fuckin’ weasel when she don’t wash it regularly. Rinsing it in the river wasn’t fuckin’ cutting it.

Coretta’s got the hound dogs sleeping at her feet and a bottle of water in her hand and is content as can be. The group minus Rick are all sitting under some tree like they’re having a damn picnic as she watches the kids. She don’t feel comfortable going over there. They’re nice enough, but she’s well aware she ain’t one of them. It makes her wary of going around ‘em. Carol don’t seem interested in her staying away though.

The woman goes to collect Daryl first, who don’t seem pleased at all, before walking over to her and handing her a plate of food too with a kind, friendly smile on her face, “You should come over to the group, you’ll still be able to see the children from there.”

Coretta takes the plate real carefully from her and raises an eyebrow, “Seems like a y’all thing. Don’t wanna be imposin’.”

Carol looks entirely unimpressed with that logic and shakes her head, “You won’t be imposing. I’m sure it must have been a bit lonely out there, might be nice for you to have a few adults to eat with.”

Coretta’s eyes drift to the group. They’re all sitting around and having a great time, though Daryl is standing a against the tree and eating with his fuckin’ hands like a damn animal. Her eyes go to Carol’s kind face and she shrugs, “If ya really want me ta, guess it won’t be an issue.”

Carol looks damn fuckin’ pleased with herself as Coretta follows her to the group, one eye on the kids at all times. Carol has her sit right by her as they settle in with the group and true to her word, Coretta has a perfect view of her boys as they play. Or fight. Looks like Mason has Keston in a weak headlock as Sophia watches her boys devolve a bit. Coretta nods when the little group all voice their greetings.

She splits her attention between the group and the kids. Ready to intervene if Mason gets too rough with Keston. She don’t need a crying baby today. She pays attention with half an ear as the group makes small talk and shoots the shit. She ain’t much interested in talking, just wants to eat her food and relax a bit.

“So Coretta, what were you doin’ before all this?” Lori is the one that makes her have to talk.

Coretta eyes the woman, “Workin’ two jobs and raisin’ two babies. Ain’t much ta tell.”

“What about your husband? What’d he do?” Lori keeps on.

Coretta narrows her eyes and get the feeling this is some kind of status thing the woman is trying to establish, “Worked as a mechanic. Did odd jobs when he could for extra cash.”

She don’t mention that when she was pregnant with Keston and money was real short and they were havin’ to cut back on groceries, he started running fuckin’ drugs for a minute. She’d never mentioned knowing to him, hadn’t wanted to start that fight and they’d needed the money. She hadn’t approved one bit though. Had cried about it for a damm week. Fuckin’ hormones.

“Y’all worked a lot it sounds like,” Andrea points out like it ain’t fuckin’ obvious.

“Needed money. Weren’t much of a damn choice. Work or starve,” Coretta deadpans. She’d never fuckin’ complained about it either. It was just fuckin’ life. Ain’t nothin’ complicated about it.

“Well, hows you meet your husband?” Lori seems fuckin’ obsessed with reminding everyone Coretta is a married woman. Or Widow at the fuckin’ worst.

“Grew up in the same damn trailer park. Ended up married and livin’ in a different one,” Coretta raises a challenging eyebrow at the judgement she sees on Shane’s face.

“Explains a lot,” She hears him mutter under his breath.

“Yeah? What’s it fuckin’ explain?” She bares her teeth in a parody of a smile.

He opens his mouth to keep digging his grave, but Carol intervenes, “Sounds like a sweet story, childhood sweethearts and all.”

Coretta wouldn’t call it that. She’d met him hiding in the damn woods while her daddy was beating the hell outta Jesse and Wade’s mama was too high to notice her boy missing when they were about Mason’s age. Coretta’d taken off the day she turned eighteen and they’d gotten married in fuckin’ Vegas a week later. She loved Wade but he’d been her first fuckin’ ticket outta that hellhole. She weren’t dumb enough to shoot it down. She don’t tell ‘em that though, just smiles a bit at the woman, “We made it work.”

“Well, you have two sweet boys, seems y’all made it work real well,” Carol glances over at where Mason is giving Miss Sophia a flower he found. Little fuckin’ charmer.

“We did. Those boys are the best things that ever happened ta us,” Coretta is well aware they’re the only reason her and Wade weren’t running fuckin’ wild all the time.

“Ain’t sweet, that one cursed me out and threatened ta kill me,” Daryl mutters.

Coretta shrugs, “Takes after his daddy there, don’t know what ta tell ya. His daddy had a temper and so does he.”

Her whole damn family has fuckin’ tempers. Wade got in more fights than she cared to count growing up and she had to bail him outta jail twice when she was pregnant with Mason. Jesse used to set shit on fire when he was pissed, she would scream, and her baby brother would run off. Whole damn family has tempers. She ain’t ever though much of it so long as they don’t hurt family.

“Sounds like a little hell raiser,” T-dog laughs.

“Takes after his daddy,” is all she offers to that. Wade was a good husband but a wild man. She knows that much. He’d always been real sweet to her and the boys, but he ain’t ever quite settled down. She always thought of him a bit like a stray dog as much as she’d loved him. Always around but never really there to stay. She don’t like thinking about how there’d been more than one time she’d waited for the day he just never came home.

Glenn shifts uncomfortably and Coretta don’t like the guilty look on his face, “So uh, I hate to ruin the day, but, uh, there’s Walkers in the barn.”

Coretta’s eyes flick to the locked up red barn a ways away. She don’t like the sudden change in atmosphere at all. She can just fuckin’ tell this is all about to go straight to hell in a hand basket. She sighs and pulls another cigarette out. She ain’t ready for whatever bullshit is about to start.

Chapter Text

Coretta watches as panic sets into the group and they all haul ass to the barn. There’s shouting and hollering and Coretta sighs and wanders over at her own damn pace to see what in the fuck is happening. It’s fuckin’ chaos and Coretta can tell this is all about to go south real damn quick. Shane’s passing out guns and yelling about protecting themselves and Maggie is yelling at him to stop. All Coretta can see looking at Shane is a rabid dog frothing at the fuckin’ mouth. She glares irritably at Daryl as the man takes a gun from Shane. Thought that one at least had some common fuckin’ sense.

She feels her boys grab onto her pants leg as the kids come see what all the commotion is about and gets real mad when Shane looks down at her boys before trying to hand her a gun.

“Hell I’m suppose ta do with that?” She snaps and doesn’t reach out for it.

“Walkers are in the damn barn! It ain’t safe. You want to keep those boys safe or not?” Shane looms over her and she contemplates taking the gun and shooting him in the fuckin’ nuts.

“Safer havin’ ‘em locked in the damn barn than havin’ a damn shoot out and ringin’ the fuckin’ dinner bell for all the damn Corpses ta come visit, ya fuckin’ idiot!” Coretta don’t take kindly to the man trying to use her boys against her.

Shane don’t take well to that at all and tries to shove the gun into her arms, the force enough to make her stumble back a bit, she still don’t take the gun, “Your boys ain’t safe with these thing in the damn barn! They get out and they’ll kill your kids!”

“Don’t fuckin’ touch my Momma, Asshole!” Mason screeches from behind her at the sight of the man pushing her like that. She has to grab him real quick by the back of his shirt to keep him from launching himself at the man. Lord, her boy is pissed as shit.

Coretta glares, “Don’t fuckin’ talk ta me ‘bout my fuckin’ kids! Ain’t my land, ain’t my barn, ain’t my fuckin’ place. Fuck off. Mason, Keston, go sit by the damn truck, right now.”

She don’t look down at her boys as she speaks, not willing to take her eyes off the rabid dog in front of her. She don’t like this shit at all. So there’s fuckin’ Corpses in the barn. Long as they don’t get out, she ain’t concerned by it. Those fuckin’ guns are gonna be what kills ‘em all. Maybe this Shane asshole ain’t been out in the real world for a bit or some shit, but there’s more Corpses than there used to be in the woods and she don’t need them all coming here.

Shane scoffs and she swears she hears him call her a dumb bitch under his breath but moves on. Coretta shakes her head and takes another drag of her cigarette. This is bullshit and she knows it. She ain’t gonna bare fuckin’ witness to stupidity for stupidity’s sake. She turns to follow her boys and Daryl catches her eye for a moment. He don’t look much happier about this shit than she does but he’s still holding the damn gun. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head again at him and walks away. This ain’t her problem. Ain’t gonna be involved. She warned them about noise. Told ‘em it‘s a shit idea. They do it anyway, it’s their fuckin’ fault when a shit load of Corpses comes through and she’ll happily say she told ‘em so.

Coretta climbs into the bed of her pick up with her boys and tucks them behind her. She don’t need them catchin’ Shane’s eye again when he’s doing this dumb shit. She don’t trust the man and privately hopes his dumbass gets bit. Teach him a damn lesson about being fuckin’ stupid. Her momma is probably rolling in her damn grave for that thought, but Coretta don’t fuckin’ care. The dogs are under the truck barking their damn hearts out at the mess by the barn and Coretta’s too pissed to tell ‘em to shut up. This is gonna get everyone fuckin’ killed.

She watches narrow eyed and lips twisted around her cigarette as Hershel and Rick show up draggin’ a pair of damn Corpses with ‘em like fucking dog catchers. She ain’t got a clue why Hershel wants to keep fuckin’ Corpses, but she frankly don’t give a shit. It ain’t her concern so long as they stay in the damn barn. Shane’s real riled up now and when he starts popping off shots, Coretta curses under her breath and pushes her boys further back into the truck bed. She don’t need this shit. No one needs this shit. It’s fuckin’ stupid.

Keston is makin’ little scared noises and Coretta starts singing low and easy the first song that comes to mind. A fuckin’ Miranda Lambert song. Mama, I’m alright. She don’t know why that song comes to mind, but it does and Keston always needs a song when he has nightmares. She figures it’ll help now too. She sings it just loud enough her boys can hear her as she watches Carol send Sophia running over to her and the boys. Coretta helps the girl into the back and pulls keston into her lap, rocking the little thing and singing into his hair. This is bullshit.

The barn opens and Coretta just keeps singing as the sound of gunfire fills the air, “my step is sure and I know my name, I’m strong just like you prayed I’d be.”

Coretta rocks Keston and Mason and Sophia end up curled up against her side and she watches and sings as hell is breaking loose down at that barn. The gunshots end and she watches poor little Beth start screaming and crying and looking through the dead bodies. Coretta just starts the song over again. No reason to let the kids near that mess. Keston’s face in buried in her chest and Mason’s holding onto her arm and muttering under his breath like he might go kick Shane in the nuts and Miss Sophia is holding her free hand tight as she can and Coretta wants to scream at the other fuckin’ adults. Acting like damn fuckin’ fools and upsetting the children. Fuckin’ hell, coulda done this quietly if they really had to. Coulda just knifed em all in the head or let her shoot ‘em with her compound bow. Ain’t fuckin’ hard. Wouldn’t have been half as dumb as this.

More chaos breaks out when one of the dead Corpses turns out to be not dead and Miss Beth nearly gets bit. Bunch of fuckin’ idiots. Coretta just shakes her head and tightens her hold on Keston, singing just a bit louder so the kids can’t hear what’s being said by the barn. She don’t need them knowing adult problems. Might be a fucked new world, but she’s of the opinion somethings kids just don’t need to know quite yet. She watches, furious and narrow eyed as Hershel straight up gets in his truck and drives off. Watches as Rick and Shane y’all at each other and everyone disperses awkwardly from the mess they’ve caused.

Carol comes to collect Sophia and murmurs a quiet thanks to Coretta for watching her. Coretta nods once and goes back to glaring at the group she made the mistake of getting involved with. Damn fuckin’ mess. Coretta fuckin’ hates people. She watches Daryl wander off to his little camp by the tree line and grimaces, fuckin’ idiot shouldn’t have gotten involved like that. She ain’t sure what was goin’ through that man’s damn head, but she ain’t appreciating it one damn bit. What a goddamn mess. Whole thing was dumber than Molly-dog on painkillers.

Chapter Text

Coretta has her boys stay near the truck while she watches Maggie and Andrea try to wake Miss Beth up from her little meltdown. Coretta ain’t ever seen someone livin’ just lay there like a corpse, eyes wide open and not moving like that. Fuckin’ freaky. Even her momma hadn’t been like that before the end. Coretta ain’t got a clue how to help so she just steps out. Let someone else try to fix that fuckin’ mess. Yet another reason Shane’s grand idea was a fuckin’ mistake. Glenn and fuckin’ Rick have gone off on a little adventure to get Hershel and Daryl’s off in the back of a pasture avoiding everyone and fuckin’ Lori seems to have decided while all the men are gone or burning bodies or ignoring the world, she’s running the damn show. Coretta ain’t much impressed by it, truth be told. Woman don’t seem to have a clue what to do about Beth and wants Rick and Glenn to come back. As if they ain’t planning too. Miss Beth ain’t gonna die before they get back. Grief takes longer than an hour or two to kill a person. Having everyone back here ain’t gonna magically fix the girl.

Coretta leans on the porch railing and watches her march out to Daryl. She got a feelin’ that woman’s just asking for him to yell at her. He seems like he’s in a shit mood half the time, nice as he was to her boys in the car. Sure enough, not fifteen minutes later, Lori’s marching back alone and looking real annoyed. Coretta coulda told her it’s best not to pester people to do shit for her when they clearly ain’t in a givin’ mood, if she’d bothered to ask. Coretta ain’t sure what it is that’s got him all pissy, but she don’t care none so long as he don’t go taking it out on the kids.

She eyes Lori as the woman approaches her and raises an eyebrow, “Can I help ya?”

“Look, I asked Daryl to go to town and get everyone, but he said no, I’ll watch your boys for you if you would be willing, Beth is in some type of shock and Hershel needs to check on her,” Lori gets straight to the point.

“She ain’t gonna die before they get back. Grief ain’t gonna kill her so quick. I ain’t leaving my boys and I ain’t going ta hunt down people that’re gonna come back on their own. Ain’t no use in it,” Coretta says it kindly, says no nicer than she suspects Daryl did. They ain’t just gonna up and leave and she don’t see a point hunting them down. Beth will be fine if they just wait awhile. Ain’t like she’s bleeding out.

Lori looks pissed off and crosses her arms, “Someone has to go get them!”

“Why? They ain’t gone gone. Hershel’s daughters are here, Glen’s fuckin’ Maggie or some shit if y’all’s gossip is ta be believed and Rick got you and yer boy. They’ll come back on their own,” Coretta rolls her eyes, she don’t like havin’ to reiterate a fuckin’ point. Waste of damn breath.

“I get you just got here and you’ve been alone in the woods for awhile, but around here people help each other,” Lori snaps out.

Coretta nods real slow, “Ya got a pair of workin’ arms and a pair of workin’ legs. Ain’t nothin’ but that brat in yer belly keepin’ ya from goin’ yerself if ya want ‘em that badly.”

Coretta grins lazily at the shock and panic and extreme anger on the woman’s face. She knew she was right earlier, she’s always been damn good at guessing things like that. Jesse used to say she was a fuckin’ witch or some shit for it. Coretta winks at the woman, “Don’t worry, I won’t say shit. Just don’t be botherin’ me for pointless shit in the future.”

She pushes off the railing before the woman can form a retort and walks off, she’s said her piece and ain’t interested in further conversation with the woman. She ain’t a fan of her but she ain’t gonna stick around to push more of the woman’s buttons. Ain’t no use in it.

Coretta looks over at the truck to make sure her boys and the dogs are still near it. They are. Mason’s trying to help Keston ride on Molly-dog’s back like a damn horse and the little boy is shrieking with glee. Satisfied, they ain’t goin’ nowhere, Coretta goes to poke the pissy redneck bear. Ain’t like she’s got shit else to do. She ain’t figured out where to go and her boys are too damn attached to Sophia for her to feel good about taking them away unnecessarily.

Daryl is sharpening a fuckin’ stick and gives her a dark look as she stops a little ways away, “That Lori lady always so fuckin’ demandin’ or is it just hormones?”

He squints all pissy like at her and doesn’t say shit back, Coretta shrugs and pulls out two cigarettes, offering him one, “Here, Ya look like ya need it.”

He glares and glares but takes the offered cigarette and the lighter she hands him, “Fuck ya want? Here ta tell me ta go chase those idiots down too?”

She snorts and takes a drag, “Fuck nah. Fuckin’ pointless ta go get ‘em. They’ll come back on their fuckin’ own.”

“Yeah? So what ya want?”

Coretta shrugs, “Ain’t want nothin’, just sick of the pity fest up at the house and my boys are fine by the truck.”

He blows smoke out and keeps sharpening the damn stick, “So ya thought I’d be better fuckin’ company or some shit?”

Coretta tilts her head, “Unless ya ‘bout to start cryin’ on me, I’d say so.”

“Fuck is wrong with ya? Shouldn’t ya be up there watchin’ those boys?”

“They’re fine for a few minutes, Mason takes good care of his brother when I ain’t around, ain’t like the shack where I gotta keep ‘em put up all damn day,” Coretta points out.

“Yer kid was gonna try and fight Shane, he gonna get himself fuckin’ killed,” Daryl snaps out.

“Shane lays a hand on either of ‘em, I’ll be cuttin’ that hand off, make a damn necklace outta it like yer fuckin’ ears,” Coretta ain’t concerned. Mason has a temper, but a good head on his shoulders. He normally ain’t writin’ checks his ass can’t cash. Today’s been the exception.

Daryl eyes her real carefully like he’s weighing out the truth of her words, “Yer gonna get yerself killed too.”

“Ain’t the first ta say that. Ain’t gonna be the last,” Coretta ain’t that concerned with things like that. So long as her boys live she don’t mind if she ends up getting killed.

Daryl looks like he can’t decide if he wants to snap at her to fuck off or ignore her until she goes away. He settles for taking a drag from the cigarette she gave him and giving that stick of his all his attention. Coretta ain’t bothered by the quiet. She gets a feeling he is, but until she’s done with her cigarette or he tells her to leave, she ain’t moving from her spot.

He glares at her again after a few minutes, “What? Ain’t gonna bitch at me ‘bout the barn, neither?”

Coretta sighs and looks up at the sky, “I done said my piece when Shane was raisin’ Cain. Ain’t no reason ta waste breath sayin’ it again.”

He scoffs and she gets the feeling he’d been hoping she’d go off on him so he can have a reason to yell at her too. She ain’t much for giving people want they want unless they’re family. Coretta puts the cigarette out in the dirt and stands up, “Have a nice day, Daryl. Try not to stab yerself with that stick, ya only got so many lives left.”

His face twists into a mean look, but she turns and goes before he can get really riled up. She ain’t interested in getting yelled at today. She’s poked the bear enough for her taste. She don’t care to keep on with it. Gets boring if she does it too much.

Chapter Text

Coretta is chewing on dried squirrel meat and cutting Keston’s hair in the bed of her truck when Shane comes marching over like he’s got a bone to pick. She can hear the dogs all start snarling and Mason quits playing with the child sized bow to watch the man through narrow, distrustful eyes. Coretta just keeps working on Keston’s hair. It’s been falling in his eyes and she’s sick of it. Apocalypse or not, her boys ain’t gonna be lookin’ like fuckin’ Bigfoot.

“Hey! You seen Lori? We can’t find her,” Shane don’t look happy about that one bit.

Coretta takes her sweet fuckin’ time responding. She ain’t in charge of that woman. She sure as shit don’t keep track of her. Coretta brushes cut hair from Keston’s bare shoulders and drawls, “Ain’t seen Lori for awhile. I ain’t her keeper. Maybe ya should check the cars. Probably did something stupid like leave ta find Rick.”

Shane’s teeth grind audibly and Coretta’s hold on the scissors tightens. She ain’t above stabbing the man if he tries some shit. He growls out, “How the hell do you figure that?”

“She asked Daryl, then me, ta go do that for her. Guess she went herself if she ain’t ‘round,” Coretta speaks real slow, in case he’s dumber than she thinks he is.

“And you didn’t mention it to anyone?” He’s glaring down at her like he’s expecting her to beg forgiveness.

“Not my responsibility ta keep track of a grown ass woman. Don’t see why ya care, she ain’t yer wife,” Coretta watches his face carefully as she says that last bit. Oh, he don’t like that shit at all, she can see the frothing start up a bit.

“You know, if you don’t want to be here, you can take your brats and leave! Not like anyone wants you here anyway!” He snarls at her like saying that changes shit.

“Take it up with Daryl if ya wanna turn me out,” Coretta wonders if Daryl will actually keep his word and prevent that if Shane tries. She’s mildly curious to see how it plays out.

Shane steps towards her and she real calmly snaps the scissors open as far as they’ll go and hold ‘em like that in one hand, makin’ sure the idiot can see she ain’t above cutting someone up if they try something. Out of the corner of her eye she can see Mason raise that little bow and point the arrow at Shane, not drawn back yet, but she knows her boy seems to hate Shane enough that that can change real fast. The dogs’ growling increases under the truck. Her dogs ain’t ever bit anyone before, but she gets the feeling that may change.

Shane tries to make himself look even bigger than he already is, “I don’t like you and I don’t trust you. You really should leave, might be better for your health.”

Coretta smiles thinly back, “Might be better for yers if ya go look for Lori instead of harassin’ me and mine. Ain’t shit for ya over here.”

Shane rolls his shoulders like he’s shaking off a bug and gives her one last filthy look before storming off. Coretta takes that as a win for tonight. Mason watches Shane far longer than she does after the man leaves. She goes back to cutting Keston’s hair and humming to herself. So long as that man leaves her boys the fuck alone, she don’t care a bit about his bitch fits and need to mark his damn territory. Pissing all over the place like a dog that needs its balls cut. She ain’t ever understood it.

Coretta narrows her eyes and stops humming when Daryl of all people comes stalking over, chewing his thumb like he was when he found their shack. Keston waves happily at the man, “Hi, Daryl! Ya need a hair cut too? Momma does it real good!”

Daryl stops a few feet from them and shakes his head, “Don’t think I want yer momma near my neck with scissors, kid. Coretta, ya good?”

She cocks an eyebrow at him, “Why ya askin’?”

He gives her a mean look, “Shit, woman, just checkin’, ya could answer the damn question.”

Immediately, there’s a small kid sized arrow in the ground by his feet and Mason is hissing, “Don’t cuss at my momma!”

“Mason, considerin’ what I’ve heard come outta yer mouth lately, ya ain’t got room ta talk. Shoot at someone in the group again and I’ll throw that bow in the first lake I find,” Coretta chides.

Daryl pulls the arrow outta the ground and stares at it like he ain’t ever seen one before, “Ya mean ta hit the ground or ya just a bad shot?”

Coretta turns her head to watch her older baby’s big blue eyes blink rapidly for a few seconds, “Meant ta.”

“Right... Shoot at me again, kid. See what happens,” Daryl rumbles out before turns his focus back to her, “Why’s he like that?”

“His daddy told him ta take care of me when he ain’t ‘round. He takes his job real serious,” Coretta explains flatly.

Daryl squints a little at her, “Uh-huh. Gonna answer the question or not? Ya good?”

Coretta finishes cutting Keston’s hair and sets the scissors down, “Careful, Daryl, yer real close ta soundin’ like ya actually care.”

Daryl gnashes his teeth, “Answer the damn question already, ain’t that hard!”

“Mason, put the bow up, time for yer haircut,” Coretta pushes Keston over to make room for her normally sweet little boy to sit, “I ain’t gonna run off if that’s what yer askin’. Might shoot Shane if he keeps up his bullshit, though.”

“Hell did he say ta ya?”

“Ain’t nothin’ worth repeating,” Coretta ain’t about to risk setting a pissy Daryl on someone.

Mason has no such qualms, “Told Momma it’d be best for her health if we leave.”

Daryl looks murderous all the sudden and Coretta sighs internally. Trust Mason to tell Daryl the situation. Daryl glares at her, “Where ya and yer boys sleepin’ tonight?”

“Truck bed with the dogs, ain’t got nowhere else,” Coretta can’t squeeze ‘em all into the inside of the truck to sleep comfortably. She might if it gets cold enough, but the truck bed is easier. She ain’t planning to sleep anyway. Someone gotta keep watch since they ain’t got the shack anymore. Moonshine and cigarettes gonna get her through the night.

He shakes his head, “No, ya ain’t. Gonna get killed doin’ that shit.”

“Got a better idea? House and RV both full. Ain’t bout ta go beggin’ for a place,” Coretta glares at him.

“Ya ain’t beggin’. Get yer shit. Y’all stayin’ at my camp tonight,” he grounds out like he’d rather shoot himself in the foot.

“We ain’t a charity case. We’re just fine where we are, thank ya kindly,” Coretta already let him drag her into this mess of a group. She ain’t letting him drag her anywhere else.

“Gonna freeze yer damn asses off, woman. Dumb fuckin’ idea,” He snaps at her.

Coretta glares, “Ain’t plannin’ ta sleep tonight, I’m keepin’ watch since I ain’t got my shack no more. Be a waste of sleepin’ space if I did that.”

“Ya ain’t gotta keep watch tonight if ya ain’t dumb enough ta sleep in a damn truck bed!” He points the little arrow in his hand at her to make his point.

“Thank ya for yer opinion,” She snips off a some of Mason’s shaggy hair.

“Fine, freeze ta death. See if I give a damn,” He stalks off, child sized arrow still in his hand, “Stupid fuckin’ bitch.”

Coretta slaps a hand over Mason’s mouth before he can start shit, “Not a word, boy. Let the man cool off. He’s just bein’ pissy.”

Coretta waits until her son nods before removing her hand and returning to cutting his hair. It was nice of him to offer, but Coretta has her pride and she ain’t interested in swallowing it just yet. Daryl will get the fuck over it and Shane won’t do shit if he knows what’s good for him. She ain’t in the mood to deal with anyone else but her boys tonight. Anymore bullshit happens and she’s gonna start yelling at people.

Chapter Text

Coretta sits on her truck’s tool box, jar of moonshine unopened on one side of her, and her bow and arrows on the other. Her boys and the dogs are all curled up together under the blankets she pulled outta the trash bags. She has an unlit cigarette in her left hand and she’s just staring out into the dark. The tents and R.V. from the group are a little way away from her and even further out she can see Daryl’s campfire. The farmhouse looks real pretty at night, Coretta decides, even if night time makes things a bit creepy nowadays.

She’d watched in silence as Shane went off to find Lori. None of the people are back yet and Coretta is starting to admit it’s making her fuckin’ uneasy. They’ve been gone hours and while she don’t regret refusing to go find them, she’s gonna feel bad as shit if Lori went and got herself killed because Coretta wouldn’t help her out. Might have to give into what little faith she’s got and pray forgiveness if that woman is dead. She ain’t been much for prayer since the police so kindly called her to tell her her Daddy had beat Hunter to death. That was a real good way to make give up on prayer. Real fuckin’ efficient way to do that shit.

She relaxes when headlights finally fuckin’ appear. She don’t run over to greet the lost fuckin’ lambs with the others. Just leans back and watches Shane help a fucked up lookin’ Lori outta the car. Coretta finally sees this woman’s kid as he runs over to her. Maybe Mason’s age. Maybe a bit older. Hard to tell. Cute kid. Coretta wracks her brain for his head and comes up short. Oh well, least he ain’t down a parent. Good for him. Now they just need the men to get their asses back and this little group she’s made the mistake of attaching herself to will be together again.

She starts drinking slow sips of her shine when Shane starts ranting about keeping Lori and that baby safe. Guess the secret’s out. Coretta wonders if Rick’s gonna be the last to know he’s got a kid on the way. She suspects he sure wasn’t the first man to know for damn sure. Maybe she ain’t being generous though. Ain’t really her place to place judgement there.

She don’t listen much as Lori is told her man ain’t back. Lady looks like she’s got half a mind to go find him. ‘Cause it worked out so damn well the first time. Bit funny watchin’ her and Shane argue though. But that might just be the damn shine talking. She figures that’s enough to take the edge of her stress and sets the jar back down. She ain’t lookin’ to get drunk. Just take the edge off and make this mess less irritating for a bit. Seems to have worked for now.

Coretta turns that unlit cigarette ‘round and ‘round in her fingers and just contemplates. She ain’t got a clue where ta take her boys. She may think this group is fuckin’ stupid, but this farm ain’t a bad set up. She won’t be unloading the damn truck anytime soon, but she supposes she could stick around. Least the drama makes for a bit of entertainment and her boys are happy as can be. She needs to make Mason quit starting shit though. She don’t need him causing too many problems. Can’t have him actually shooting someone. She thinks that’d start some bullshit.

Coretta tilts her head back and stares up at the sky. So many fuckin’ stars. More than she could even begin to count. Staring up at those stars is enough to make her fall asleep like that. Cigarette falling to the truck bed as her hand goes limp. All her stress and exhaustion is finally starting to catch up to her and she couldn’t stay awake if she tried.

She comes to early the next morning with a crick in her neck and her boys and the dogs fuckin’ gone. She has a moment of panic ‘til she sees the boys and Sophia introducing Lori’s kid to the dogs a ways away. Coretta sighs and stretches, jumping down off the bed of the truck. Might as well go see if Miss Beth is doing better since she ain’t gonna have to go find lost kids today.

Coretta goes over to her boys first, “Y’all eat already?”

“Yes momma, Carol made us breakfast,” Mason tells her, “This is Carl.”

Carl. Coretta tries to make a point of not forgetting it, “Nice ta meet ya, Carl.”

The boy seems like he’s got too much energy, being cooped up and recovering probably made him stir crazy, “Are you gonna stay? I like the dogs.”

“We’ll be ‘round for awhile. Boys, stay in view of the house, I’m gonna go see what’s happenin’. Miss Sophia, don’t let the boys get ya into trouble,” Coretta smiles a bit at the girl and yawns.

Miss Sophia nods her little head all happy, “I won’t!”

Satisfied, Coretta shoves her hands in her pockets and walks up to the farmhouse. She don’t know where the men are and she’s reluctant to hunt on Hershel’s land without asking the man permission so she figures she can make herself useful in the house. Gotta be something she can do. Coretta needs something to do, she ain’t a fan of idle hands. Gets her into trouble more often than not.

Lori and Andrea are in red farmhouse kitchen and Lori looks better now that she’s all cleans up, Coretta shifts a bit when their eyes turn to her, “Uh, just wonderin’ if there’s anything y’all need done ‘round here, don’t wanna be doin’ nothin’ y’know.”

Andrea raises and eyebrow and Coretta gets the feeling somethings bothering the woman, but Lori seems much happier now that Coretta is looking for things to do, “We have laundry that needs to be done, or if you could go sit with Beth awhile so Maggie can get herself cleaned up, that’d be great too.”

“Beth any better?” Coretta don’t like that weird corpse impression the girl was doing yesterday.

“Not really, hopefully the men are back soon and Hershel can do something,” Lori sighs.

“Right, I’ll check on her and Maggie, first, see if Maggie needs ta have someone sittin’ with her awhile,” Coretta thinks that’d be the polite thing.

Lori seems to agree, “Great, I’m making her some lunch, I’ll come check later too.”

Coretta nods a bit and goes to check the little blonde. She knocks real quietly on the door, and waits patiently for Maggie or Beth to say something. Waits for Maggie really, since Beth wanna be a fuckin’ doll or some shit.

“Come in!”

Coretta tries to open the door nicely, tries not to startle the girls, not that it fuckin’ matters. Beth is curled up under the covers starin’ at the wall like Coretta’s momma used to do on her bad days and Maggie looks like she can’t decide if she wants to scream or cry. Coretta don’t like this kinda thing. She’s got her own shit memories of people letting grief win out, she don’t wanna have another. Still, She smiles a bit at Maggie, “If ya need ta go do anything, I can watch her for ya for a bit.”

Maggie shakes her head, “You don’t need ta watch her. Just maybe talk to her? See if she’ll respond to anything? I’m gonna go talk to Lori.”

Coretta nods once and steps forward to sit by the blonde’s bed. She don’t really know what to say but she figures she might as well try, “Y’know, it does get better. Eventually. Shit hurts like hell for awhile, but ya get kinda numb ta it in time. Only hurts sometimes, then.”

Coretta shifts at the silence and figures she should keep talking, not like this girl is gonna talk back, “Helps ta have people that love ya ‘round. Yer sister, Patricia, the farmhand, yer daddy, all seem like they care a lot ‘bout ya. Helps ta have that. Sharin’ the grief and shit.”

There’s no response and Coretta tries again, “Yer gonna get through this, honey. Ain’t much other choice. Be easier if ya let everyone help ya though.”

Coretta ain’t expecting the girl to actually speak, “No one can help. The world’s over and it’s not goin’ to get better.”

Well, at least she spoke. Coretta shrugs, “World’s always sucked and people always died. Ain’t nothin’ new ‘bout that. Don’t mean ya should just lay down and die too. Not when ya still got life in ya.”

“You can’t protect them. Your sons. Mason. Keston. You can’t protect them. They’re gonna die too,” Beth mutters.

Coretta tilts her head and swallows her immediate anger at the thought of her boys dying, “Maybe so. Don’t mean I’m just gonna not try my best for ‘em. They deserve very chance I can get ‘em.”

Beth don’t respond and Coretta sighs, “Gonna go see if yer lunch is ready.”

Coretta hates sadness. It’s a bad feeling to have and a god awful one to witness. Especially sadness like this girl’s. She’s acting and sounding too much like Coretta’s momma did for Coretta to be alright with it.

Lori is walking by her with the tray of food and Coretta stops her, “She talked. She sounds real hopeless, though. Don’t think she should be left alone.”

Lori purses her lips, “Thank you, Coretta.”

Coretta nods and keeps going. Might as well find something to do that ain’t staring at a girl waiting to die. Coretta needs something else. She tried, but that kinda grief ain’t the kind Coretta wants to be near. Makes her feel like a tiny child holding onto Jesse’s hand and calling for a momma that ain’t gonna answer again.

Coretta goes and figures she’ll do laundry. She can hunt once she talks to Hershel, make sure he don’t mind it. His land, his rules after all. She shoulda fuckin’ asked him yesterday, but she didn’t think to between the mess with the barn and him taking the fuck off. Unless someone gives her a better job, laundry gonna have to do while she figures out where she stands with the group. She ain’t interested in playing housewife with Lori, but these kinda chores do need to be done. Until she can find something else, this is fine. Least it ain’t like the shack where she has to do just about everything that needs doing herself. Division of labor and all that good shit.

Coretta works through laundry the old fashioned way as she waits to see if the men are ever coming fuckin’ back. It takes for fuckin’ ever ‘cause it seems like ain’t no one doin’ their own damn laundry. Carol comes on over and starts helping her hang the clothes to dry. Coretta likes the woman, she don’t talk too much and she seems nice enough. Even if she did misplace a kid.

“Sophia seems to really like Mason,” Carol breaks the silence after around fifteen minutes or so.

“Mason likes people. Loves ta make friends,” Coretta nods a bit and hangs a shirt up.

“Must have been hard, just you and the boys out there,” Carol muses.

“Ain’t no harder than anything else I’ve done. Yer girl is real sweet. Acted like a little angel while she was with me,” Coretta glances off to where it looks like Sophia is petting Molly-dog while Mason and Carl have a spirited debate over some shit. Keston is ripping fuckin’ grass outta the ground like he’s a cow or some shit.

“She’s always been a bit shy, it’s nice to see her with friends. Ed didn’t much like her hanging around boys,” Carol sounds a bit sad and a bit irritated.

“Don’t think I’ve met an Ed, yet,” Coretta drawls.

“No, you won’t either. He’s gone,” Carol doesn’t sound near as sad as Coretta was expecting.

“I’m sorry for yer loss,” She murmurs.

“Not much of a loss, truth be told. He wasn’t a good man,” Carol doesn’t look at her as she say it.

“Not many good men in the world, I don’t think, ‘specially nowadays,” Coretta was lucky with her marriage to Wade, she knows she coulda ended up with a piece of shit like her daddy real easy.

“There’s a few left, I think. Daryl looked for Sophia everyday and the others have all taken care of the group as best they can,” Carol points out.

“Good for ‘em. Group got lucky sounds like,” Coretta mutters and pins someone’s pants on the clothesline.

A car pulling up cuts the conversation short. So they finally got around to getting back. Coretta walks over curiously as everyone else runs to the car. Lori in the front to hug Rick as soon as he’s outta the car. Maggie does the same for Glenn. That’s not what interests her though. It’s the kid in the backseat they have bound and gagged and blindfolded. Fuckin’ hell. She can just see this is gonna go bad. One day, can these people not just go one day without a single damn problem? She just don’t understand who the fuck takes some kid fuckin’ hostage. Coretta sighs as the kids all run over with the dogs to see what’s happening. Shit, she don’t need the boys getting the idea kidnapping people is appropriate fuckin’ behavior now. Coretta has to resist the urge to light a damn cigarette. This ain’t a good way to start a day at all.

Chapter Text

A meeting. They’re having a damn meeting over this kid they brought back. Coretta leans against the wall of the room and listens intently. Kid and his group started shooting and Rick had to kill a man. Kid nearly lost a leg and no one has a clue what to do with him now. Coretta don’t really care much about the kid. Seems to her, with the fucked up leg, he probably ain’t much more than Corpse food now. Shane’s of the opinion the kid is a threat and Rick wants to send him on his way once Hershel fixes that leg up a bit more. Rick’s real generous like that, apparently. Coretta thinks with that fucked up leg, a bullet to the head would be kinder than letting him go alone and crippled.

Still, She keeps those opinions to herself and just moves on with her day while Shane and Rick go off to find a place to leave the kid. This is one stray Coretta can’t see a reason to keep. Best turn him loose and let him take his chances, she supposes. She don’t think anyone wants to be the one to kill the kid directly after all. Except Shane, apparently. Rabid dogs are that way.

Coretta checks the kids before going off with Red and Lucy to get materials for new arrows. She’s still short a few and needs more. She needs to get her damn handgun back from Daryl too. She only had time to get her buck knife when she ran from him and his group initially. He better still have the damn thing. It’s the only handgun she owns.

She goes to Daryl first. He’s off by his camp with a bunch off squirrel skins dangling from strings. She eyes the ear necklace dangling too as she approaches his camp. He’s doing something to his crossbow and gives her a dirty look when she gets close enough.

“Hell ya want? I’m busy,” he gripes out at her. She assumes he’s still a bit irritated with her.

“Ya still got that handgun ya took from me or ya give it away?” Coretta figures getting to the point is the way to go with him.

“Yeah, I still got the damn gun. Ya gonna shoot me if I give it back?” He eyes her like he wants to not give it to her at all.

“Ain’t got no reason ta,” Coretta drawls before calling the dogs away from him, “Lucy, Red, get over here. Leave the man alone. Dumbasses.”

Daryl squints at the dogs as they come back to her, “What ya got these dogs for anyway?”

“Huntin’ dogs. Squirrels, raccoons, rabbits, ya name it they can find it. Ain’t much use for deer though. They’re my husband’s,” Coretta absentmindedly scratches Lucy on the head, the blue-tick coonhound is her baby, truth be told. She may have been Wade’s dog but she’s Coretta’s girl. When she ain’t being a fuckin’ idiot at least.

“Can’t track without ‘em?”

“Can, good for when a visible trail goes cold though. Why? Lookin’ ta get a dog or some shit?” Coretta grins and tries to joke.

“Ain’t got use for a huntin’ dog. What about that pit?” Daryl is up and digging through his motorcycle bags.

“Molly-dog? Mason found her in a ditch as a pup and begged me ta let him keep her. He’s got a habit of doin’ that kinda shit. First time I let him keep one though. Wade had a fuckin’ fit over it. Damn thing ain’t worth shit but Mason loves her somethin’ fierce,” Coretta rolls her eyes. Her baby treats the pitbull like it’s his best friend. She ain’t ever seen anything like it.

“Fuck kinda name is Molly-dog?” Daryl makes a face and pulls her handgun outta the motorcycle’s saddlebag.

“The kinda name a five year old comes up with,” Coretta deadpans.

“Why’d ya let him keep it?” Daryl is checking the gun’s chamber as he asks.

“Money weren’t quite as tight as usual when he found her. Near Christmas too. Didn’t feel right tellin’ him no,” Coretta had been willing to have a screaming match with Wade over it too while the Mason played with the puppy outside and Keston was sleeping in his crib. She don’t mention that though. Ain’t no reason to.

Daryl hands the gun to her with a shake of his head, “Them dogs gonna get ate by Walkers.”

“Why it sound like ya care more ‘bout dogs than people?” Coretta raises an eyebrow as she checks the gun’s safety and tucks it away in her waistband.

“Fuck off, woman. Go back ta yer damn truck,” He scowls at her real quick.

Coretta raises her hands in surrender, “Ain’t no need ta get all pissy. Yer free ta play with the dogs whenever ya want.”

Coretta grins as he starts cussing at her back while she walks away. She got what she came over for with minimal yelling and she counts that as a fuckin’ win. He can cuss to his heart’s content now. She don’t mind none.

Coretta comes back to screaming in the fuckin’ farmhouse. She don’t even need to go inside to have an idea of what’s happened. Miss Beth decided she wanna die and sounds like Maggie is taking extreme issue with it while Lori chews Andrea’s ass out for encouragin’ the attempt. Coretta don’t like suicide talk and makes the executive decision that she ain’t touching that situation with a ten foot pole. Let the girl’s family deal with it. Let Lori tell the blonde bitch off. If Coretta gets involved she’s gonna slap the shit outta the blonde for encouraging a grieving teenager to kill herself. Ain’t what the fuck an adult is supposed to tell a kid. Ain’t supposed to do that at all.

Coretta eyes the kids playing as she goes to put the gun in the truck like she agreed with Hershel. Until he gives her permission, she ain’t about to go back on their agreement. It ain’t her way if she don’t have to.

She leans against her truck and just watches the kids for a bit. Carl ain’t there. She don’t know where the boy went, but she figures his momma probably knows so she ain’t gonna raise hell ‘bout it. Besides, she hears a car pulling up. Guess that means they’ve gotten rid of their little hostage. Coretta tips her head back to watch the car pull up. As soon as she sees them pull the kid back out of the damn truck, she groans a bit in fuckin’ irritation. Looks like that dumbass decision to kidnap a kid ain’t been fuckin’ resolved after all. What the fuck is wrong now that they brought him back?

Coretta does light a cigarette this time and wanders over to watch as they throw the kid in the barn. This just looks like a damn mess. There’s minor chaos as everyone realizes Rick and Shane brought the kid back and they so kindly tell ‘em the kid went to school with Maggie. So he knows exactly where they are most likely. Small town schools are fuckin’ like that. Everyone knowin’ everything about everyone.

“Momma? He a bad guy?” Coretta startles a bit at Keston piping up beside her.

Coretta glances down at the little boy and then back over to the barn, watching curiously as Daryl goes in alone, “Hard ta say, baby. That’s what we gotta find out.”

“How we gonna do that?” Mason is holding onto Molly-dog’s collar and looking at the barn like he wants to go in it.

“Y’all ain’t gonna do nothin’, let the grown ups handle it. Why don’t y’all take Sophia and go find Carl? Boy needs to burn some energy after bein’ in bed so long,” Coretta suggests with a light shove towards where the girl was standing a ways away with her momma. Coretta waits until the boys are suitably distracted and everyone is busy worrying themselves silly to go wander over to the barn. She’s mostly bored, mostly curious and she’s thinking of those men in the woods she’d hid from.

She hesitates a bit when she hears the all too familiar sound of a fist meeting flesh and the kid crying out and begging for it to end. Gives her a bit of a flashback to childhood. She shakes that off and slips inside to witness. The kid is talkin’ fast and Daryl’s hand is dripping blood and his knife is in the kid’s bad leg. She takes a drag of her cigarette as Daryl’s head whips around to glare at her, “Fuck ya doin’ in here, woman? Ya don’t need ta see this shit.”

Coretta’s eyes slide from his face to the swollen, busted up one of the kid, “Ya answerin’ his questions honestly, honey? Shame if ya had ta get beat silly ‘cause ya thought Lyin’ was smart.”

Daryl is staring at her like she’s grown a second head and the boy starts talking all hopeful to her, “I am! I swear, ma’am! Please, ya gotta help me, he’s crazy!”

Coretta nods real slow and looks at Daryl’s bloody hand, “Whatcha tell him so far? I’d love ta know.”

Daryl answers for the kid, “Got thirty fuckin’ men. With heavy fuckin’ artillery. Ya missed his fuckin’ story ‘bout what they do ta women.”

Coretta takes a drag of her cigarette and walks slowly over to crouch by the kid’s face, “What’s yer name, sweetie?”

“Ran-Randall,” kid sounds half hopeful and half nervous.

“Randall? What story ya been tellin’ ta piss Mr. Dixon off so bad?” She keeps her voice calm and sweet, she has questions and she wants answers, but honey and flies and all that good shit. Worst comes to worst, well, Daryl seems to be doing a fine job making vinegar work.

“The— uh, the group I was with— not me— I swear I didn’t— found a guy with his two, uh—“ Randall cuts off as Daryl shifts dangerously behind them.

“Two what?” Coretta keeps her voice sweet even as she can feel herself get irritated as she thinks of what this kid is saying so far and what she heard in the woods, “It’s alright, sweetie, so long as yer honest, I won’t let him hurt ya no more.”

Randall’s eyes dart to Daryl and back to her like he doesn’t know who to focus on, “His two, uh, his two teenage daughters.”

Coretta don’t like the way his eyes glaze over as he thinks about it. She don’t like that shit at all, “Did they rape ‘em, Randall? That what yer sayin’?”

His eyes clear and she supposes he’s starting to figure out how false her kindness is at the fuckin’ moment, “I— I didn’t. I swear I didn’t.”

She tilts her head a bit and gives him the look she gives Mason when she’s trying to get him to tell her something he did wrong, “Did ya enjoy watchin’? Ya seem like ya may have. Remember, honesty keeps ya in one piece.”

Randall shakes his head, “No, no I swear I didn’t.”

Coretta sighs, “Y’know, when me and my brothers lied, or if he even just thought we did, our daddy would get real mad. Didn’t like that shit at all. Y’know what he would do?”

“I— I don’t know?”

She takes one more drag of her cigarette and lets him stew a minute, “Well, lyin’ is a sin, ya see. And sinnin’ gets ya sent ta hell, right? So he liked ta give us a taste of what’s waitin’ for sinners. So he’d burn us with cigarettes ‘til we went hoarse from screamin’ and beggin’ and snot was runnin’ down our faces. Funny thing was, he didn’t even believe in heaven or hell.”

Randall is begging now, “Please no, no— please don’t. Please— I swear, I swear I’m not lying!”

Coretta shrugs not believing him for a second, “Consider this yer freebie. I just have two questions for ya, and I’ll leave ya be. How’s that sound, sweetie?”

“I— I won’t lie, I swear. I ain’t gonna, please don’t burn me!” Kid looks about ready to piss himself just thinking of it. Coretta thinks he’s overreacting. Of course, she’d built quite the tolerance to cigarette burns as she grew up. Not as much as Jesse had, but enough she didn’t cry from ‘em by the time she left.

“Woman, the fuck ya doin’?” Daryl sounds half rabid behind her as he finally breaks in.

Coretta just waves a hand at him and keeps her eyes on Randall, “Were ya with this group from the get go?”

“No, no I met ‘em on the road, I swear I ain’t lyin’,” Randall’s staring at her cigarette like it’s gonna come to life and burn him without her consent.

“I believe ya, don’t ya worry,” Coretta smooths her hand over his sweaty, dirty hair like she would her boys, “See, I’m just askin’ ‘cause about six weeks ago, I heard some men in the woods talkin’ by the river. I hid in a clay root, it’s why they ain’t find me. They were talkin’ ‘bout women. What they wanted ta do ta some. So when’d ya join the group?”

“I wasn’t there. It wasn’t me! I swear, I— I joined ‘em three weeks ago!” Randall sounds like he’s in hysterics as Daryl makes a noise behind her.

“Oh, I believe ya, see, that little incident happened two weeks ago. Thank ya for yer honesty,” Coretta stands up and stretches, cigarette dangling from her lips.

Daryl is glaring at her silently and she nods to him as she goes to leave, “Sorry for interruptin’ yer fun. Just wanted an answer ta my question. Hope ya understand.”

He doesn’t say a word back, but the sound of a foot hitting a body and Randall gasping in pain follows her out the doors. Coretta don’t look at the group as she walks by to go check her sons. She got her answer to her question. She ain’t sure if this Randall kid was with the men she overheard, but if they’re part of the same group, Coretta ain’t got much in the way of sympathy for him. She may not approve of torture, but she don’t care enough to make it stop. Not for a kid who fuckin’ likes to watch women and girls get raped. She finds she can live with knowing she didn’t even try to make it stop.

Chapter Text

Meeting number two is tense. Coretta listens lazily as she keeps one eye on the kids. The dogs are wandering in and out of the group as Rick makes the decision to kill Randall. Dale don’t take that well at all. He’s arguing hard against it and Coretta don’t understand. Ain’t like the death penalty wasn’t a thing before the apocalypse and they ain’t got no jails. It’s nicer than leaving him as Corpse food too. He don’t much approve of Daryl’s little interrogation either or the fact she hadn’t interceded to stop it. Coretta don’t say a word when he brings up her part in it, just blinks long and slow like a cat and plays with the ends of her hair, entirely unrepentant. She didn’t instigate that little incident. She sure as shit wasn’t gonna try to talk Daryl down when he looked like he was tryin’ not to outright murder the kid. She ain’t interested in inadvertently pushing the man to actual murder. She don’t know him well enough to think her opinion woulda been enough to stop that beating.

Coretta goes off to make arrows and keep an eye on the kids while Dale runs on after Rick and keeps trying to get that Randall kid a pardon. She sits cross legged in the grass and works away on one of the sticks she picked out while the dogs lay around her and Mason and Keston play hide and seek with Sophia. Carl’s disappeared again and Coretta don’t know if he’s playing too and is just good at hiding or if he’s off doing his own thing. Coretta watches Carol run off after Daryl while Shane stalks off to his car. She ain’t sure what everyone is supposed to be doing while they wait for this little execution, but she ain’t about to ask. She needs arrows, not drama.

Coretta is through her fifth arrow and her boys are still running around like little wild things as if they ain’t capable of running outta energy when Carol comes walking over, stopping just a few feet away. Coretta offers the woman a smile, “Yes ma’am?”

“Why didn’t you try to stop him?”

“Hm?” Coretta cocks her head.

“Daryl. Why did you go in there and just let it happen?”

“Didn’t see a reason ta stop it. Kid didn’t deserve my help. And Daryl’s a grown man I only met two days ago. Ain’t my place ta be tellin’ him what ta do. Ain’t like he’d listen if I tried,” Coretta goes back to what she’s doing.

“You didn’t even try?”

“Nah. Not like it’d change nothin’. He already beat the kid when I went in there, can’t take it back,” Coretta tests the point of the arrow in her hand. Not quite sharp enough.

“Daryl is a good man. He shouldn’t have had to do that. You could have stopped him,” Carol sounds like she really wants to believe that.

“Maybe he is. He still ain’t mine ta order ‘round. I ain’t ‘bout ta waste breath talkin’ ta a brick wall. Why ya so upset by it?” Coretta glances up at the woman.

“I just don’t think it’s right,” Carol sounds a bit defeated.

“Ain’t much right in the world,” Is all Coretta says back. Torture is probably the least of the terrible things this world has to offer nowadays.

“Guess so, didn’t it bother you though?” Carol pushes.

“Seen worse. Wish it hadn’t been needed, but ain’t much ta be done for it,” Coretta drawls.

“Could you try to talk to Daryl about it? He got angry when I tried. Maybe he’d be more willin’ to open up to you,” Carol says it like Coretta is willin’ to play devil’s advocate for the redneck’s conscience or some dumb shit.

“Y’know him better than me. If he ain’t gonna talk ta ya, I doubt he’ll talk ta me,” Coretta points out. Just ‘cause he brought her into the group don’t mean he’s her friend or nothing. She’s pretty sure she and her kids are some kinda obligation or something to him though. Like he’s tryin’ to repay a debt he didn’t want in the first place.

“Well, if you change your mind, I think you should. And thank you for keeping an eye on Sophia too,” Carol smiles in the direction of her daughter whose chasing Mason as fast as she can. Looks like she’s trying to throw something at him. Lord only knows what her boy did to cause that.

“Of course, it’s nice ta watch the kids be kids. They ain’t able ta do that ‘nough anymore,” Coretta’s face softens at the sight of her sons being able to enjoy life a little bit. Mason had become so serious while they were at the shack. Having other children around is definitely helping him relax again.

Coretta watches the woman slip off again and is content to return to what she’s doing in peace. She wants to make as many arrows as she can. More she’s got, happier she is. Coretta keeps one eye on the kids and one eye on what’s she doing as she’s left on her own again. She can see Dale on occasion running around from person to person. Every single one. Guess he’s trying to get a pardon for their little prisoner. She doubts he’s gonna pull a miracle like that outta his ass, but she’ll give him props for determination. For an old man, he’s sure fired up.

Coretta smiles as Keston comes running over to her, “Momma! Look what I found!”

Coretta holds a hand out so he can drop whatever it is in it. It’s a shiny rock. That’s kinda shaped like a duck. If she squints real, real hard. She leans forward and kisses his forehead, “It’s very pretty, good job. Where’d ya find it?”

“By Mister Daryl’s stuff,” Keston chirps dutifully.

She blinks, she hadn’t seen him run off, “Baby, don’t be goin’ that far off alone ‘gain, okay? And don’t be botherin’ Daryl, He’s a busy man.”

“But he didn’t make me leave,” Keston tilts his head like a little bird and his pretty brown eyes go wide as can be.

“That was nice of him, next time ask first, alright?” Coretta don’t need her babies getting underfoot or running off. That ain’t gonna work for her one bit.

Keston scrunches up his face but nods, “Alright, Momma. Why’s his hand all messed up?”

Coretta shrugs, “Ain’t nothin’ ta worry yerself over.”

Keston looks confused in the way kids do when they don’t understand adult things, “Oh. Can I see the bad guy?”

“No, baby, ya stay away from him, ya hear me?” Coretta gives him a sharp look of warning. She don’t want him anywhere near that kid.

“Why not?”

“He’s bad. Might get ya. Don’t go messin’ with him,” Coretta’s voice goes hard, “I mean it, Keston, leave it be.”

Keston looks like he’s ‘bout to pull a Mason and try to argue with her, but thinks better of it at the last second, “Fine, can I go play more?”

“No more runnin’ off,” Coretta watches him run straight to Mason. He left the rock in her hand. Coretta smiles a bit to herself at the sight of the silly little thing her little son had been so happy to give her and tucks it away in her pocket. Keston might be runnin’ low on manners, but he’s a real momma’s boy. Mason too, but he don’t do things like this anymore. Thinks he’s a man now that Wade ain’t around and wants to do the protecting. Keston, though, is still little enough and innocent enough of the world to think a funny looking rock makes a good gift for his momma. Coretta already mourns the day he outgrows doing it.

Coretta watches Sophia trying to teach her boys some kinda paddy-cake looking game. Mason looks bored outta his mind but Keston is about dying of laughter. Coretta starts on a few shorter arrows for Mason’s compound bow. Figures he could use a few too. Just in case. She hums to herself as she works. The steady rhythm of the work calming as can be. If it weren’t for it being the apocalypse and her joining up with a group that’s keepin’ a prisoner, she’d almost be able to relax. As it is, her eyes keep searching the tree line for danger. Keeps looking for whatever is due to go wrong next.

Dale is the thing to ruin the peace for her. Seems he’s decided it’s her turn to listen to him preach amnesty for their little prisoner. She sets the knife and arrows aside and leans back on her palms to wait for him to speak. It’s a staring contest for a moment before he begins, “Coretta, I don’t know you well, I’ll admit that, but you saved Sophia. You took care of her like she was yours when you didn’t have to. Surely, condoning the torture and execution of a kid— a boy— can’t be something you can be okay with. It’s clear you’re a caring person. A decent one. You have to see this is wrong.”

Coretta looks at the old man, it’s easy to see he’s as close to begging as old men get. She looks off at her boys, trying to get Sophia to climb a tree with them, and sighs, “Dale, ya mean well, ya do, but what’s the alternative? We can’t keep him, I won’t have a boy like that near any of the children and leaving him alone and crippled is a slow death sentence. Execution’s kindest, cruel as it seems.”

“You don’t believe that. We don’t know he’s guilty of anything, we don’t know if he’d ever do anything, we have to give him a chance,” Dale implores, “We gave you one.”

Coretta’s eyes narrow, “I didn’t watch two young girls get raped and get off on watchin’ it. He did. Ya think a person like that changes? They don’t. They just get worse, they eventually get up the nerve ta try it themselves.”

“You won’t even consider the possibility of redemption? We can’t just kill anyone we don’t know. If we cross this line, we can’t go back,” He sounds desperate.

“Capital punishment been a thing for decades, ain’t crossin’ no line that ain’t been crossed before,” Coretta shakes her head, dirty blonde hair falling out of her face as she does.

“We aren’t the government though! We can’t make decisions like that! Who are we if we do?”

“Might as well be the government considerin’ government ain’t a thing no more. I’d say we’re survivors,” She shrugs, “Could always castrate him, I suppose. If ya don’t wanna kill him. Bible does say ta cut off yer hand if it pisses ya off. Think it applies here.”

Dale stares aghast at her, as if she didn’t just offer him an alternative to outright execution that would let him keep the kid as a pet if he wants him so bad. Coretta don’t see what the issue is. Sarcastic or not, she wouldn’t be opposed to makin’ a eunuch outta mister Randall. She don’t pay Dale anymore attention as he goes on his way. She thinks she’s made her stance clear enough for anyone who cares to ask her. However this shit ends, Coretta ain’t worried. She’s damn confident they ain’t gonna keep the little fucker in the barn.

Chapter Text

Meeting three comes around in the evening. The kids are all left outside while the adults file into the farmhouse dining room. Coretta don’t much like that, but she figures fifteen minutes ain’t enough time for anything to happen. Ain’t like she wasn’t leaving them alone at the shack for hours before. Coretta feels a bit bad watching Dale try to argue for Randall’s life. Feels real bad watching Glenn refuse to back him up, but she ain’t bout to change her vote to appease an old man.

Coretta listens patiently as people try to suggest alternatives, she figures she can throw her two cents in around here, “Could always use my idea, Dale, since ya wanna keep him so bad.”

Rick twists around to look at her and Daryl looks like he’s wary as hell of what’s about to come outta her mouth, as if he can even guess where she’s going. Rick makes a gesture, “And what’s your suggestion?”

“Dale seems ta want himself a pet rapist. I say castration ain’t a bad idea,” She drawls it out.

T-dog blanches, “That’s fucked up, damn.”

Rick shakes his head, “No, no, we aren’t doing that.”

“Be doin’ the whole fucked world a favor,” Coretta points out.

“No. Ain’t doin’ that,” Rick gives her a stern look.

“Best ta kill ‘em then. Turnin’ him loose is a slow death sentence for the kid at best, at worst he lives and becomes some other women’s problem,” Coretta picks dirt out from under her nails as she points that one out.

“Girl has some damn common sense! She ain’t even been here two days and even she gets it, Dale!” Shane snaps out and Coretta can’t help be irritated at having to side with the dumb fuck.

The conversation devolves from there as everyone starts debating how to go about an execution. What to do so the the body. If it’d be quick. Carol runs on out as Dale starts arguing again. Dale seems absolutely disgusted with the group and begins to rant about how this is admitting civilization has ended, which in her humble opinion, it has. Hiding from it won’t magically make the damn world start working again.

When he asks if anyone is gonna watch, Coretta pipes up again. Just because she’s feelin’ a bit bitchy, “Sure, I’ll watch. Ain’t see no issues with makin’ sure a threat is gone.”

There’s a bit of a silence in the room while Dale whips around to stare at her, “Think of the example you’re setting for your boys.”

“I am.” Coretta offers no more than that.

That seems to end the conversation. Dale just shakes his head and declares the group is broken. That leaves an uncomfortable silence in its wake that’s only broken by Rick saying they’ll take care of it tonight. Coretta takes that as her cue to leave, she don’t need to hear the rest.

They’ve got a couple hours until the execution, Since Rick wants to do it at night, as if that’ll hide what it is, and her boys are napping in the truck bed with the dogs. She figures she’s got enough daylight left to hunt a bit before then, she said she’s bear witness after all. She ain’t about to make herself a liar.

So that’s what she does. Until sunset she dicks around in the woods and comes back with two birds and a squirrel. Not much, but better than nothing. She figures her boys can keep themselves good and occupied plucking birds and skinning while she’s busy. She whistles sharply to get her boys’ attention and jerks her head towards the truck. Both boys haul their scrawny asses over as fast as their legs can carry them, little Keston trailing his brother by a few feet.

Coretta sets the kills on the tailgate and looks over at her boys, “Mason, why don’t ya show Keston how ta pluck birds. I gotta go take care of somethin’. Won’t take too long.”

“Carl says his daddy’s gonna kill the bad guy,” Mason pipes up as he climbs into the truck bed while Coretta picks Keston up and plops him down beside his brother.

Coretta taps her nails on the side of the truck and chews the inside of her mouth. She ain’t about to lie, but she don’t wanna expose them to even more of the bullshit that fills the world. Not now. She sighs, “Y’all don’t be worryin’ over that. It’s adult business, nothin’ for kids ta be concerned over.”

Mason grabs the bigger of the two birds and starts yanking feather, careful not to loose any so she can use them for more arrows later. She can tell he don’t like that answer from the way his eyebrows pull together and he works his jaw side to side like Wade would when he wasn’t happy ‘bout something. He don’t say nothing to her though. Seems content to give her the silent treatment now.

Keston blinks wide eyes up at her, “Momma? Can I have a bow like Mister Daryl’s?”

Coretta laughs a bit and kisses him on the crown of his head, “Maybe I’ll find ya one when yer big enough ta hold it. Now, help with the birds.”

She waits until she’s sure they’re busy before heading towards where Rick, Shane, and Daryl are waiting outside the barn. No one looks happy and they’re the only ones here. Dale had been right when he accused everyone else of not being willing to see through what they’d decided. Coretta may not approve, but she ain’t gonna think much over it. To each their own and all that good shit.

Rick looks all tense and shit. Like someone’s shoved a pole up his ass and gave it a good twist. Shane looks like he’s almost excited, she don’t like that. She don’t like him. Daryl eyes her and just shakes his head. Coretta don’t think much of it. She said she’d watch. She’s gonna keep her damn word. No one else seems bothered by her presence.

Randall is slumped against the wall and Coretta watches silently as his eyes go wide at the sight of them and he starts babbling all desperate as Daryl and Rick drag him to his feet. He’s begging and struggling and crying out and Coretta don’t like the way his eyes go to her like she can help him before Shane’s blindfolding him and shushing him.

He’s standing all shaky legged in the middle of the barn and begging and crying and Coretta swallows her pity down and leans against one of the wooden posts that keeps the damn barn standing.

“Would you like to kneel or stand?” Rick sounds like he’s not quite come to terms with what he’s about to do.

Randall is shaking his head and saying no over and over and over. It’s Daryl that makes the choice for him, coming up behind him and forcing him to his knees before returning to his own spot. Coretta sighs a bit and pulls out a cigarette, seems like this is a good enough reason to be smoking.

“Final words?” Rick sounds like he’s forcing the words out.

Randall keeps begging and begging and she ain’t sure what makes him think it’s worth a shot, but he starts talking. To her. She just talks a drag as she listens to him pleading, “Ma’am, please! I know you’re here, please ma’am. Ya promised ya wouldn’t let ‘em hurt me if I was honest. I ain’t lie ta ya! I swear, please.”

Daryl hits the side of the stall he’s by, “Hey! Don’t fuckin’ talk ta her!”

Coretta shakes her head though Randall can’t see her, “Honey, I promised if ya were honest, I’d keep Mr. Dixon from hurtin’ ya no more. He ain’t the one with the gun.”

The kid is wimpering and Coretta can smell urine as the sound of Rick’s gun cocking hits her ear drums. Coretta just keeps smoking to keep calm even has her heart starts picking up the pace and that gun raises to be nice and level with Randall’s head. Won’t be much longer now. Coretta figures this is gonna haunt her dreams awhile along with all the other shit she’s seen, but she don’t look away. Don’t even blink as Rick’s finger moves to the trigger. She just stares at Randall’s head and blows smoke rings out.

“Do it, dad, do it,” Carl’s voice breaks the tension and Coretta’s head whips around when she hears Mason hiss at Carl to shut the fuck up. Oh, she’s gonna kill ‘em. Keston ‘bout to be an only fuckin’ child.

Her son is behind Carl and all she can hear is the roaring in her ears as Rick makes Shane and Daryl take the kid away and Rick grabs his son and drags him off. Mason looks guiltier than a priest caught with a whore as she stares at him. She can’t form any damn words she’s so fuckin’ mad. Just stares in disbelief at her son. How fuckin’ dare he think he was allowed to do this shit.

“Momma?” Mason’s voice is tiny and she can tell already he knows he fucked up. Knows he weren’t supposed to be down here, was trying to be all fuckin’ sneaky and the only reason he got caught was ‘cause of Carl’s big fuckin’ mouth.

Coretta real calmly puts her cigarette out on the pole she was leaning against and ignores Daryl and Shane slipping by, the former pausing long enough to look between her and her son. She don’t even look over at the man, this ain’t his concern. She pushes off the pole and walks towards her son, “Get yer butt back ta the goddamn truck, right now.”

Coretta watches him run like hell is after him back to her pick up. Watches him climb up into it with Keston. She don’t know where Mason gets off thinking this was okay, but Coretta needs to take her time walking over there to calm the fuck down before she deals with this little transgression. She don’t even know how to verbalize to the kid why the hell she’s so damn pissed off. She needs a moment, needs to figure out what the fuck to say and how the fuck to say it. Needs a good fuckin’ punishment too. She can’t let shit like this slide. Coretta paces back and forth and has the urge to scream and curse for one wild moment the way she did back before she had kids and did her level best to get her shit together. She ends up slamming a palm against the barn wall a few times before staring up at the sky. What fuckin’ bullshit.

She takes a few deep breathes and turns to go to the truck. Time to talk to her boy, figure out what the fuck he was thinking. She only gets about twenty feet when the screaming starts out in the pasture. She don’t think before she takes off towards the noise. Her dogs are barking up a storm by her truck but her boys are smart enough to stay there, especially after pissing her off. She’s one of the last to arrive and she thanks God her boys didn’t come running too.

It’s Dale. It’s the old man she didn’t know that well but thought was nice enough, if a bit too desperate to hold onto the old world. His stomach is torn open and Coretta can’t decide what’s worse. The sight of his guts all torn up and hanging out or the look of pure animalistic pain and terror on his face. She just stares in silence. It’s horrifying. She’s no stranger to gutted animals, but those were already dead, and they were animals. This ain’t anything like that shit. Coretta doesn’t even have the mind to smoke even has her hands shake at the sight of this.

She stares and stares and stares and people cry and scream and Hershel declares it’s a hopeless case. Ain’t nothin’ to be done for the man. He might as well be  dead already. Watching Rick aim a gun at the man’s head makes her wanna look away.

Watching Daryl take the gun and aim it real carefully at the man’s head and say real somberly, “Sorry, Brother,” makes her choke a little.

But hearing that gunshot and watching that bullet go through Dale’s head makes her heart stop for a moment. Coretta ain’t had to think about what to do if someone were to get too badly hurt, if they were to get bit. She ain’t had to think about that yet. Isolation had protected her from that. She ain’t got that anymore and it feels like someone’s ripped a blindfold off her and is screaming at her to see what the world is. Coretta suddenly don’t have it in her to yell at Mason tonight. She don’t even have the energy to speak. She just don’t.

Chapter Text

There’s a funeral for Dale the next morning. Coretta and her boys stand off to the side as it happens. Mason is as subdued as he always is when she has to get onto him. She’d done that earlier, while the grave was being dug. They listen in silence as Rick offers a eulogy. When he ends it by saying they won’t be killing Randall, Coretta just looks down at the grave. It’s the wrong call, but she ain’t in the mood to be arguing it. Wrong time, wrong place for it.

What comes next is what Coretta thinks is some kinda revenge killing combined with pest control. Keston is left up in the house with Lori. Everyone else except for a handful of people, Mason included ‘cause Coretta knows he can handle it, pick up weapons and go to work clearing each and every Corpse off Hershel’s land they can find. Coretta keeps Mason close to her as they shoot of arrows, Mason’s missing maybe half the time. His aim is improving. Use to be, he’d miss the mark three times outta four. Quick learner.

Coretta grimaces as she pulls one of her arrows out of a skull and wipes it clean in the grass. Fuckin’ nasty. They’ve been at this shit for hours. All damn day, they’d been doing this and she’s starting to get uneasy by how many they’re finding. It’s like the woods are filling up slowly. Coretta don’t trust that shit.

It finally ends and the smell of burning corpses starts filling the air as the men start dragging bodies to burn piles. It’s a nasty smell thanks to the decay of the bodies, but take that away and it smells like cooked meat. Which is off putting as hell to her.

Hershel’s response to last night’s incident is to stuff the farmhouse full of people. Coretta understands it, but fuck, it’s gonna be a tight as shit squeeze. Ain’t something that’s gonna be comfortable, that’s for damn sure. Hershel even tells her to bring the dogs inside at night, something that gets the kids all worked up and happy. Coretta doesn’t unpack the truck. She’s got a bad feeling and settles for taking her and her kids’ blankets inside. If the feeling passed and nothing happens, she’ll unpack a bit more. She and the boys and the dogs end up set up in the far corner of the living room. It’s a tight squeeze with the entire group in the house, but she can tell everyone feels better being close together. Like sheep. Safety in numbers and all that good shit.

From there it’s quiet. Some of them take shifts watching the prisoner while others go to work building makeshift roosts to keep watch from. Coretta ends up moving cars up to the house with Carol. Making sure they’re close the way her truck is. She doesn’t much enjoy it, but it’s fine, it needs to be done. Don’t take long either and Coretta goes to check the boys and calls a greeting T-dog as he passes by her on the way to check the prisoner. Coretta’s unease is still there and she ends up saying fuck it and unlocking her truck as a just in case after seeing her boys running after Daryl like lost puppies. The man don’t seem bothered, but still. She probably shouldn’t leave the short tempered man being chased after by her boys.

Red and Lucy amble along beside her as Coretta whistles sharply to get the boys to pay attention, “Y’all botherin’ Daryl?”

Mason has already recovered from getting into trouble and gives her a bright grin, “Yeah, Momma! Look! I’m missin’ a tooth now!”

Coretta squints and walks over, sure enough, he’s lost one of the teeth near the front, “When’d that happen?”

“It was loose! Daryl helped yank it!” Mason looks like he thinks having a tooth removed was great fun.

“It was real nasty, Momma! All bloody and gross,” Keston’s nose scrunches up like he hasn’t been happily learning to gut and skin things.

Coretta raises an eyebrow as she glances over at the man working away on his motorcycle, “Did y’all thank the man for his help?”

Daryl snorts a little as her boys chirp that they did. Coretta should probably check with him they ain’t an issue, “Hope they ain’t causin’ ya problems. I can take ‘em inside if need be.”

“Ain’t shootin’ arrows at me no more. They’re fine,” he grunts out as he keeps his eyes on the motorcycle.

She nods a bit and goes to respond when she’s cut off by T-dog shouting that Randall’s escaped. Fuck. Her eyes go to her boys and she snaps out, “Both y’all inside, now. Stay there.”

As soon as they start running that way, Coretta takes off after Daryl as everyone converges on the barn and T-dog. The dogs are wound up as hell in all the excitement and Coretta snaps at them to settle as everyone takes in the sight of the empty fuckin’ handcuffs. If he yanked his hands loose, dumb fuck will have two broken thumbs at best. Ain’t much a man can do without thumbs she don’t think.

Coretta don’t like this at all, “How’d he get out? Weren’t we lockin’ him in?”

“We were,” Rick confirms as he lifts the empty handcuffs and stares at them.

“Is it even possible to break outta handcuffs?” Carol questions.

Andrea nods, “If you’re determined enough.”

Coretta agrees, “Gotta be willin’ ta break yer thumbs. If the door was locked, how’d he get out? Ain’t nothin’ broken.”

Daryl looks up from the ground to eye her but doesn’t say anything before Shane comes outta the damn woods all bloody faced and shouting that the scrawny little hostage with broken thumbs got the jump on him. Coretta ain’t feelin’ good about this shit at all. From the way Daryl’s squinting at Shane, she don’t think he’s feelin’ good about it either.

Rick starts shouting orders and Coretta tips her head to the side, “Y’all wanna borrow Red and Lucy? ‘nough blood on those cuffs ta catch our friend’s scent.”

Rick turns to look at her and the dogs for a second, and shakes his head, “No, go back to the house, keep everyone safe.”

Coretta inclines her head, she’d rather guard the damn house anyway, better than marching ‘round the woods looking for a kid that’s escaped under real fishy fuckin’ circumstances. She eyes Shane and has a feelin’ his case of rabies is finally getting the better of him. She ain’t interested in being ‘round him when he snaps. She just thought she’d offer. Actually put herself to use for the group.

She whistles to call her hounds to her and makes sure to keep her distance from Shane as she heads back. She’s got too many suspicions ‘bout him and one threat from him already. She ain’t gettin’ any closer to him than she absolutely fuckin’ needs to be. Coretta stops by her truck on the way to the farmhouse and grabs her deer rifle, puts the two rounds it holds in it and fills her pockets with extra rounds. Just Incase.

She doubts she’s gonna need a single bullet, but she figures better safe than sorry. Her compound bow ain’t got the range of her rifle. So she puts that up and heads to the house. The gun is a familiar feeling in her hands. Reminds her of when Wade would take her deer hunting. He’d been the one to teach her to use a gun when they were around fifteen. Had crowed like a damned rooster when she shot her first deer. She thinks he’d been more pleased than she had.

Coretta ends up leaning on the porch railing with her gun in her hand and all three dogs at her feet. She ain’t gonna think ‘bout how damn country hick she must look at the moment. She watches the tree line and waits. The unease is building and she hopes like hell whatever the fuck Shane pulled, ain’t no one gonna die ‘cause of it. Coretta has a feeling shit gonna get nasty when whatever Shane did comes to light. Rabid dogs ain’t ever fun to deal with.

Chapter Text

Keston and Mason have joined her on porch awhile after sunset. She strokes Mason’s hair with one hand while Keston holds onto her jeans. The boys don’t know exactly why she’s all twitchy but they sure as shit know now ain’t the time for fuckin’ ‘round. They ain’t ‘bout to do anything they ain’t supposed to right now. Hell, they ain’t even talking. Just standing there with her, waiting for shit to go to hell. Ain’t family bonding fuckin’ great?

Coretta narrows her eyes as two figures finally appear. Just two. She taps her fingers against the railing she’s leaning against and hushes Red as he starts huffing like he wants to bay at the people. She relaxes minutely when she sees its Glenn and Daryl. They look bothered as fuck.

Coretta calls out to ‘em when they get close, “Y’all find him?”

Glenn nods and Daryl huffs out, “Already dead too.”

Coretta raises an eyebrow, “How convenient.”

“Yeah, are Rick and Shane back?” Glenn questions her.

“Nah. Y’all beat ‘em.” Coretta turns and ushers the boys inside behind the men as they get to the door. She leans in the front door as everyone comes to see what’s happening. Daryl leans against the wall beside her and explains what they found. Dead by a broken neck. Still up and walkin’ ‘round. Coretta don’t like that information. Don’t like it at all. So people don’t need to get bit to turn and Randall’s neck got snapped. Necks don’t just snap. Coretta don’t need a college degree to know that much.

Coretta looks over at Daryl when everyone else goes off to a different room, “Y’all’s boy did some sketchy shit, y’know that, right?”

He pauses adjusting his crossbow and looks at her, “Lookin’ that way, ain’t it? Fuck’re we supposed ta do ‘bout it?”

“Not much now. That baby of Lori’s... it Rick’s?” Coretta thinks hard about how pissy Shane would get at the reminder of who is and who ain’t married to the woman. Rabid dogs shouldn’t be left alone with someone too dumb to see they’re rabid.

Daryl narrows his eyes, “Fuck if I know, might be, probably ain’t. Why?”

“First day, ya warned me ta be careful ‘round Shane. Don’t think I’m the one that should be careful is all,” Coretta watches her boys watch the window.

“Gonna get yerself killed doin’ all this thinkin’,” he grunts out.

“Well, that happens, Yer gonna get saddled with my brats, since they like ya so much and all,” Coretta jokes, trying to keep herself relaxed as they wait.

Daryl glares at her and shakes his head, “Give ‘em ta Carol, she owes ya for keepin’ Sophia alive.”

Coretta twitches as Red starts barking, “True.”

Lucy and Molly-dog start barking too. Loud as shit. Fuck. She steps out onto the porch to tell them to shut up and Daryl steps out and walks to the edge of the porch, squinting real hard into the dark. Coretta follows his gaze and her heart drops. Holy fuckin’ shit, sweet baby Jesus. What looks like dozens of Corpses are coming outta the tree line. Coretta’s breath catches in her throat as they just keep coming.

Daryl yells at everyone in the house what’s happening and Coretta finally finds the words to tell the dogs to shut up. She needs to get the boys. Needs to get them the fuck out of here. Ain’t no way in hell they can put down that many.

Coretta grabs her rifle and goes in the house, calling the dogs in with her. Hershel kills the lights and Coretta can’t help it, she snaps, “Ain’t no lights gonna help, that many? We’re fucked if we stay.”

Hershel is calmly loading a shotgun, “This is my farm, I won’t leave.”

Coretta chokes at the sheer stupid pride of the man and turns to everyone else, “Y’all, this shit ain’t gonna work.”

“We’ll pick off what we can, use the cars ta draw the rest away,” Daryl’s voice is sharp, “Get all the kids, throw ‘em in yer truck, get ‘em outta here if ya gotta.”

“I can’t find Carl— I won’t leave without Carl!” Lori’s eyes are huge and she looks like she’s about to lose her shit as Coretta rounds up her boys and Sophia when Carol ushers the panicked looking girl to her.

Andrea looks panicked too, and pissed, “We’ll find him, we won’t leave him.”

Coretta just mutters cuss words under her breath as she gets the kids ready to run. How the hell that Carl brat ain’t dead is beyond her. He ain’t ever where he should be.

“Barn’s on fire,” Glenn points it out dumbly as he and Maggie start loading their own guns to go drive a car ‘round shooting Corpses.

Coretta really don’t give a shit about the damn barn. Ain’t like they gonna be able to use it again after the Corpse move the fuck in. She can hear Carol assuring Lori that that’s probably Rick and Carl or something. Coretta just keeps moving, picks Keston up and gets the kids outta the house and wants to scream at how many fuckin’ Corpses there are. She needs to get them to the truck, but the sight of this freezes her in her tracks for a moment. There ain’t no way they’re gonna make it through the night.

Daryl seems to disagree with her assessment and shoves her in the back towards her truck, “Fuck, woman, get those damned kids in the fuckin’ truck! Now!”

Coretta breaks outta her daze and tells the kids to run, calls the dogs fast as she can and she doesn’t think she’s ever run so fuckin’ fast in her life. She’s practically flinging kids and dogs into her truck. The Corpses are close now and she has to haul ass around her truck to keep from not being able to go at all. As soon as she’s in, she hands the rifle to Mason and tells him to give her her handgun. It’s a quick trade and she flicks the safety off as she’s twisting the key in the ignition.

“Y’all, we’ll be fine. Sophia, Keston, keep yer heads down. Mason, baby, if I tell ya to shoot, can you do that for me?”

Mason clutches that deer rifle like it’s a lifeline, his jaw is set and despite the fear in his eyes, he nods decisively, “Yes, Momma.”

“Good,” Coretta throws the truck into reverse and hits the gas, putting as much distance between them and the Corpses as she can, the barn fire is lighting up the damn sky and showing her hundred of fuckin’ Corpses filling the farm up. Shots are being fired from cars and trucks and Daryl’s motorcycle as they try to mitigate the damage as best they can. Coretta hisses a breath out and rolls her window down, firing at the Corpses in front of the truck to clear a path. She ain’t ‘bout to sit here and wait for death.

Coretta ignores her dogs barking and the kids crying and hits the gas. She hits a few corpses and keeps driving, shooting at anything she can get a clear shot at while she looks for a way out. She cusses when her rounds run out and rolls Mason’s window down enough he can shoot, “Baby, I need ya ta shoot now.”

Mason don’t need another word and goes to work, grunting with every kick of the gun that’s too big for him. She digs through her pockets and dumps more rounds into the cup holder for him. Coretta tried to drive less like a lunatic as she looks for a way out, any way out. She cusses when she sees Andrea get dragged under by Corpses and decides shits gotten too far gone. It’s time to go.

She finds an opening and guns it, even as Mason keeps shooting. She has no idea where the fuck she’s going but she hopes it’s the highway or something. It’s the only landmark she can think of. She wants her shack but that shit is fuckin’ gone. The Corpse are coming from that direction, she thinks. She can see others deciding it’s time to fuck off too. She ain’t got a clue how to get to them though, they’re going a different direction and there’s a whole ass herd between her and them.

“Baby, that’s enough, ya did real well,” Coretta manages to get out as she speeds and swerves through the fucking woods like Jesse on meth. Mason is pale and shaking as he pulls the gun back into the car so she can roll the window up again. Coretta feels like she’s insane as she drives. She’s completely unsure of where she’s going and the woods are crawling with fuckin’ Corpses.

She drives in what feels like circles, she just needs to find the damn highway. Just needs to get there. She’s got no clue where it is, but she just needs to get to it. It’ll be fine. It’ll be fine if she can do that. Coretta can feel herself shaking as she drives and tries to hold her shit together the way she did the night she got the boys to the shack. It’s harder now. She has no idea where she is or how to get where she wants to go and she don’t have a clue where anyone is.

She wants to cry as she finally finds a dirt road and picks a direction. West. She hopes it’s the right way. She really fuckin’ does. She can’t afford a mistake, not when she’s got the kids with her. She can’t fuck this shit up.

Chapter Text

She has no idea where they are. She’ll fuckin’ admit it. She is pretty sure she’s going the right way, but she ain’t got a clue how far from the highway they are or if anyone else will be there or where on the highway to go if they are. The dogs have all passed out in the floor boards or stretched out across Sophia and Keston’s lap in a Molly-dog’s case. The kids are silent. Mason is stock still and tense in her passenger seat. Keston is red faced with tear streaks down his cheeks and still trying to hide from sight of Corpses while Sophia breathes hard across from him. Coretta needs a fuckin’ cigarette but she don’t smoke when she’s driving with kids in the car and she sure as shit ain’t pulling over until she finds the group.

Coretta hits a paved road that ain’t the highway, but that she bets feeds into it eventually, and makes a little noise that’s half relieved and half stressed and she ain’t really sure how the fuck that’s possible, but it is. She’s still driving like a fuckin’ psychopath and has a moment of hysterical joy traffic cops ain’t a thing no more. She’d be goin’ to jail for damn sure if they were.

She takes a right and hopes she’s not fuckin’ up. Hopes she doesn’t end up driving straight back into that fuckin’ herd. She might lose her fuckin’ mind if she chose the wrong way. She prays like hell she finds their people. She thinks that’s what they are now. Their people. She sure as shit has thrown all her money on it, at least. Just gotta find ‘em again. She can do that. She can fuckin’ do this.

Coretta don’t know how long she drives before she hits the highway and ends up flying down the wrong side of the damn road, swerving around the cars scattered everywhere and hopin’ like hell she’s going the right way. Mason is holding the oh shit handle above his head and she can feel him look at her every couple seconds. She knows he probably thinks his momma’s fuckin’ lost it, but frankly, she ain’t sure he’s wrong. She’s holding it together by a damn thread. Feels like she’s ‘bout to shake apart with all the damn nervous energy she’s got in her.

She sees the group way ahead of her, all standing around their cars. She lets off the gas as they notice her truck heading towards them and she wants to cry from joy at the way they’re all pointing and shit. They’re here and they didn’t leave ‘em and it’s fine. Things are fine. Coretta hits the brakes and comes to a stop. Her hands stay clenched around the wheel as her head falls forward to rest on the wheel for a moment and she just breathes even as Sophia scrambles out screaming for her momma. Coretta don’t move even when her car door gets thrown open and Daryl is trying to get her attention.

She doesn’t move as his hand reaches across her lap and throws the truck into park, just sits and shakes and breathes. Mason and Keston are talking to her and crying respectively and Coretta’s mouth is working but nothing is coming out. A large hand, that just a few days ago hit the ground by her head in an attempt to intimidate her, grips her shoulder and pushes her back against the seat gentle as she thinks he can be.

It takes her a second but eventually she looks over at Daryl, her eyes having to track up his arm to his face before she can focus on him. His eyes search her face and he rumbles out, “‘bout had ta go find y’all. Anyone hurt? Bit?”

She shakes her head and tries to calm down, “Mason’s shoulder’s probably all bruised up, but that’s all.”

“From shootin’? Saw him goin’ ta town with that damn rifle. C’mon, get outta the truck, ya looked like ya forgot how ta drive pullin’ up.”

Coretta’s hand fumbles for a cigarette and her lighter as she stumbles out, telling her boys to stay in the truck as she does. She wants them ready to go in case they need to run again. Her hands are shaking as she tries to get the damn thing lit and Daryl ends up grabbing the lighter from her and doing it for her.

She closes her eyes as the smoke fills her lungs and sighs it back out, “Everyone here? I saw Andrea go down, I— I didn’t— didn’t see where anyone else went and I—“

“Patricia and Jimmy’re gone too, Shane’s dead,” Daryl closes her truck door after glancing over her boys.

“How?” Coretta can’t say she’s happy the man is dead, but she sure as shit ain’t mournin’ him.

“Missed a lot while ya were on yer little road trip. Man tried ta killed Rick, Rick killed him and we’re all fuckin’ infected,” he adds that last bit with a filthy, pissed off look.

“What?” She croaks it out. The hell does he mean, they’re all infected?

“Went ta the damn CDC, this Jenner fucker was there, told Rick everyone’s infected. We all got it. Rick been keepin’ it quiet,” Daryl sounds pissed.

“Fuck.” Coretta mutters as hysterical laughter builds up and they join the rest of the group. She ain’t got shit else to say to that as she starts laughing all nervous and panicked and shit.

The rest of the group looks a bit startled by her laughter but no one asks her to stop as she runs a shaky hair through her hair. Hershel greets her calmly and asks, “Do you mind if I go check on your sons?”

Coretta makes a helpless, aborted gesture towards the truck, “Go for it, don’t let the dogs out, please.”

Hershel nods and walks off with Beth in tow. The little blonde looks like a fuckin’ wreck and is crying softly. Coretta don’t wanna know why she looks like that. She don’t wanna know the details of how anyone died. It ain’t important and just plain depressing. Dead is dead is dead and knowing how ain’t change that.

Rick looks like he’s been through the wringer, like someone’s broken something in him and he’s holding it together outta sheer willpower. He’s pacing with his hands on his hips and looks like he’s ‘bout ready to pop off with a temper tantrum or some shit. Or break down crying. Whichever comes first.

Hershel and Beth rejoin the group, her sons in tow despite her telling them to stay in the truck and she can’t find it in her to be annoyed by that. Just pulls the pair close to her, and smiles tightly at them as her helpless laughter dies off. The whole group looks like hell as they all stand in the middle of the damn highway with no damn idea of what to do now. Carol is holding Sophia as close to her as she can and Lori ain’t lookin’ at Rick as she sits in a car and holds Carl in her lap. Maggie and Glenn are standing shoulder to shoulder and look fuckin’ awful. Maggie’s eyes are all puffy from crying. T-dog is leaning against one car with his arms crossed and jaw clenched.

“Hell we gonna do now?” T-dog break the tense silence.

That’s the golden fuckin’ question, ain’t it? Coretta ain’t got a clue besides not fuckin’ die. They need shelter, food, safety. All sorts of things they ain’t got now. She looks around at everyone else for an answer, an idea. She ain’t got a fuckin’ clue where to go now.

Rick speaks, “We’ll stay here tonight. Make camp.”

“Out in the open?” Carol looks sick at the thought.

“Anyone have any better ideas?” Rick snaps harshly.

There’s silence as everyone looks around at each other like idiots, no one really making eye contact with Rick. Glenn is the one that speaks up, “We should keep moving. We need shelter.”

“We’ll find it. We can’t do that tonight, we need to rest,” Rick rebukes instantly.

“Hard ta rest when we’re out in the open with Corpses creepin’ ‘round,” Coretta mutters.

“Don’t think we have much of a choice, Coretta, we don’t have the fuel to move tonight,” Hershel says in the careful, thoughtful way he has.

Coretta hisses her irritation, she has one can of gas that ain’t empty. They’re gonna have to siphon gas from the cars scattered around the road. Ain’t no choice there. Gonna take hours to get enough most likely and Coretta has to admit doing that at night is a shit idea.

Which is how they all end up huddled around a fire in the fuckin’ woods just off the highway. Coretta’s got the dogs tied down nearby and the boys on either side of her. Ain’t no one seem happy. She stares into the little campfire and waits for dawn. Daryl is nearby her and the boys with Carol holding Sophia on the other and she can hear them talking in low tones. Coretta don’t think Daryl likes their conversation from the irritated tone he’s taking. There’s a noise in the woods and everyone but the dogs gets all twitchy. The dogs just look over ears perked before laying their heads down. Coretta takes that as a sign it’s fine. Then Maggie suggests leaving and Rick gets his panties in a fuckin’ twist.

The former cop starts ranting ‘bout how he’s done everything for them, how he had ta kill Shane for ‘em, how he didn’t ask for this shit. Coretta raises an eyebrow as he finishes off with a hard spoken, “This isn’t a democracy anymore.”

There’s silence before Coretta breaks it, since she’s got a nice little habit of doin’ that shit, “Well then, Bossman, hope ya got a plan.”

Chapter Text

Coretta decides real quick Rick ain’t got much of a damn plan. Mostly just find a house, try to stay there a night or two, get chased off by fuckin’ Corpses, rinse and repeat. Daryl ends up throwing his bike in her truck bed a month in and takin’ over driving her truck. Tryin’ to save what gas they can siphon, she figures. Her truck bed is filled with shit they don’t bother unloading since they ain’t ever stay somewhere more than a week or two. Her boys basically live in the backseat with the dogs. Everyone is fuckin’ hungry and cold and tired and pissed off. They go through her canned food quick and Coretta starts skipping meals again to keep her kids and the other kids fed. A lot of them are doin’ that. Lori needs food too, ‘cause that baby is sucking the damn life outta her and no food means she’s gonna end up bleeding the baby out if they don’t keep her fed.

More than once, they have to run to the cars in the middle of the damn night ‘cause the damn Corpses or Walkers or whatever they are come knocking. Coretta’s gotten good and used to the sleep deprivation and watching Daryl throw Keston over his shoulder like a sack of grain and running. Man seems to have decided he’s Keston’s bodyguard or some shit. Coretta is a bit confused by it, but let’s it be. Ain’t a bad thing, after all.

Hunting is a bust half the time. It’s nearly winter and the animals are either hiding out or the Walkers got ‘em already. What they can find is scrawny as shit and more than once Coretta eyes her dogs and wonders how long it’ll be ‘til they’re a valid meal choice. Daryl gets all pissy when she makes that joke and she figures they’ll end up a last resort.

Every damn day is just move and scavenge and try to get to the next day. Ain’t nothin’ else for the group. Coretta spends a lot of nights wide awake and smoking as she waits for things to go wrong again. Everyone is getting skinny. Even the kids and Lori despite best efforts to keep ‘em fed.

Winter hits and things get bad. They have to go through Coretta’s little stash of medicines when Sophia gets real sick and Carol starts acting like the little girl is doomed to die. That pisses Coretta off real well and she ends up with Glenn on a four day run looking for more medicine since she apparently ain’t got enough. Nearly gets bit by Walkers about five times doing it and Daryl tells her she shoulda stayed back and let someone else go when he hears. Coretta ends up cussin’ at him for it and they don’t talk for an entire day’s drive.

Four months in and Lori is showing and Coretta is tense because they only got a few more months before that baby comes and she’s only gonna need more food to keep herself and that baby going. She and Daryl don’t talk much when they’re all driving down the road at first. First time he hears her sing to Keston, some old gospel song she remembers from childhood, he gets even quieter than normal and asks her if she’s religious.

That makes her laugh softly into Keston’s messy, dirty hair, “Ain’t sure if I am. Daddy sure wasn’t, but my momma believed real hard. Figure one of ‘em is right, just ain’t sure which.”

He nods to that and goes back to focusing on the road. Coretta don’t ask if he believes. He’s prickly even if they’ve adjusted to each other being around, and she don’t wanna piss him off if that’s one of his sore spots. Not when they basically live in the truck together now.

One night, a few weeks later, Coretta ends up drinkin’ shine while Daryl is driving and her boys sleep in the back. He side eyes her and asks real low, “The hell that come from?”

“Wade’s shine shack, got like ten? Twelve jars of the shit,” Coretta looks down into the clear liquid and wrinkles her nose, “Nasty fuckin’ taste, but it ain’t gonna blind no one.”

“Mason wasn’t jokin’ when he said y’all were in a shine shack,” He shakes his head and follows the group’s damn caravan.

“Also for huntin’, but ain’t no one really used it for that,” Coretta confirms.

“Wade yer husband?”

“Sure was, went huntin’ with my brother few days before all this shit started, never picked up my calls or showed up,” Coretta ignores the pang at the reminder of her loss, she still ain’t had time to grieve Wade or Jesse.

“Ya mentioned brothers. How many ya got?”

“Two. One, now, if he ain’t dead,” Coretta sips on the moonshine as she answers. She don’t like talking about her brothers.

“I got a brother. Name’s Merle. Got left behind in Atlanta. Ya ever try ta find yer family?”

“Ain’t know where ta start. They wouldn’t tell me where they were gonna hunt, ain’t gonna go chasin’ ghosts when I have my sons ta keep livin’. They find me or they don’t. Just how it’s gonna have ta be,” Coretta says bitterly.

“Sorry,” he mutters it, but it sounds genuine, “Ya miss ‘em?”

“Yeah. Miss Wade more than Jesse, truth be told. Jesse weren’t ‘round much before and when he was, most the time he was high. Couldn’t have him ‘round the boys like that. When he was sober though, he was good. I miss that person, rare as he was ta see, I don’t miss the rest of him though,” Coretta thinks it’s the shine making her talk so much.

“He an ass high?”

“Could be. Had anger issues all the time, but he’d light shit on fire when he was pissed and high. Would do it sober from time ta time, but ya could talk him down from it then,” Coretta got real good at doing that.

“Sounds like fun at a party, Merle ain’t ever do that shit,” Daryl swerves around a pile of corpses.

“Could be real fun. Day we ended up with our daddy’s trailer in our possession, we burned that bitch ta the ground. Cops ain’t even care enough ta yell at us for it, much less arrest us,” Coretta smiles a bit at that memory. Definitely one of the most satisfying days of her life was watching that trailer burn.

“What ‘bout yer other brother?”

“Hunter,” the name sits bitterly on her tongue, “been dead eight years now. Fifteen years old. Died a day or two before Mason came along.”

“Shit, M’sorry,” Daryl sounds like he regrets asking.

“Ain’t nothin’ ta be done for it now. He was the sweet one of us three. Ain’t had a mean bone in his body. Not sure how the hell he was so sweet. Me and Jesse sure fuckin’ weren’t. Only reason I pulled my shit together was ‘cause I wanted ta do right by the kids,” Coretta needs to stop drinking. She talks too much when she drinks.

Daryl chews his thumb and asks real softly, “What happened ta him?”

“Daddy happened. Sweet boy got caught kissin’ another boy. Daddy lost his fuckin’ shit. Such a stupid thing ta kill a kid over. Ain’t like it was hurtin’ no one,” Coretta drinks more, “I told him, after I left, I told him, if he ever needed ta get the hell out, if he ever couldn’t take it no more, all he had ta do was call. Didn’t matter when or what I was doin’, I’d come get him or send Wade or something. I’d get him out. All he had ta do was call. Woulda made it work. He ain’t ever call though. Year later, he was dead. Fuckin’ bullshit.”

Daryl goes quiet, then, “That story ya told the Randall kid, ya didn’t just make that up ta fuck with him, did ya?”

She laughs low and bitter, “Nah, Nah, that shit happened. Mostly ta Jesse, but we all got it. Jesse did what he could ta keep me from gettin’ the bastard’s attention and when he left, I did what I could ta keep Hunter from gettin’ noticed, then I left and Hunter got killed. Ain’t that some shit?”

“Why’d ya leave?”

“Didn’t wanna stay and Wade was my first ticket out. Saw the chance and just— just couldn’t turn it down. Dunno if I fucked up there or not. Hunter might be alive if I hadn’t or maybe it wouldn’t’ve changed shit. Impossible ta say.”

Daryl doesn’t say anything to that. Just nods a bit and keeps his eyes on the road. Coretta screws the lid back on the jar and sets it in the floorboard. She don’t like how much she talks when she drinks around people. Coretta makes a point not to do it again.

A month later, Coretta is hungry as fuck and pissed as fuck and so damn tired. She has a bit of a freak out and twists the fuck off on Rick. She snarls and screams at him that he ain’t got a damn plan. That they need a damn place to stay, that this running from place to place shit ain’t workin’. Screams that if he’s gonna be the fuckin’ king of the idiots he damn well better figure some shit out. Rick starts yelling and kids start crying and dogs start barking and Lori gets involved and Glenn tries to play mediator and Daryl ends up picking her up around the waist and carrying her away from the group kicking and screaming and cursing.

The redneck has to keep himself between her and Rick to keep her from going after him again. Has to block her view of the man to keep her from yelling some more. She ain’t been like this since before she had Keston. She’s furious and twisted up and it sounds like her daddy or Jesse high is talkin’ instead of her. Daryl just keeps her there until she calms down. Snapping harshly at her that this ain’t helping nothing.

Coretta snarls at him that she’s sick of seeing her babies hungry. Sick of seeing them cold. Just wants a place that’s fuckin’ safe and is that so much to fuckin’ ask for? Somehow that causes her to start crying and he’s hugging her to him and mumbling that they’ll find something, that they ain’t gonna starve. That her kids will be alright. Coretta don’t know how to react to the hug, only ones that do that anymore are Keston and Mason. Still, she ends up burying her face into his chest and just stands there for awhile. She’s pretty sure he’s not completely comfortable with the contact, but he allows it until she pulls away.

After that, Daryl starts hunting for places as they move. Finds a map and crosses out everywhere they’ve gone that ain’t safe. Draws circles around ones he think might be alright and shows ‘em to Rick. Coretta is currently unofficially banned from dealing with Rick directly, just in case she decides tyrannicide is a valid fuckin’ course of action.  She wouldn’t do that, but she won’t deny there’s been moments where she ain’t exactly had charitable thoughts ‘bout the man. Carol ain’t much better, though. She’d gone off on the man too as Sophia started to lose weight. Coretta might get real mad real explosively, but from what she can tell, her friend is the plotting type. Coretta thinks if anyone is gonna snap and kill Rick it’s gonna be Carol if they don’t find a place soon.

Coretta is singing that same Miranda Lambert song to her boys when Daryl finds a place on the map and shows her. A prison. Not just any prison. The one her daddy got sent to after he killed Hunter. Coretta stops singing and stares at that little point on the map. Just two or three hours from where they are. Coretta eyes it and eyes it and asks real soft, “Think Dictator Grimes will go for it?”

“If we can take it, maybe. We take it now, might give us a month before little Shane comes ‘long. The boys would have a safe place, ain’t gotta be worryin’ yerself crazy no more if we go for it,” He sounds real pleased with himself.

Coretta kisses a dozing Mason on the temple and nods, “Best go tell our overlord then.”

Chapter Text

Takes them a few days to get there, but they make it to the prison and everyone just stares at it for awhile. They kill a few walkers as they look it over. It’s a big place. Thick walls, tall fences, watch towers. A shit load of walkers inside. Coretta knows one of those is her old man. One of those is the piece of shit that killed her little brother. She tries real fuckin’ hard not to think ‘bout it. She’ll start fixating and shit if she does. Start tryin’ to hunt him down to bash his skull in. She don’t need to be obsessing like that. Ain’t no good come from it.

Coretta can feel the energy in the air. If they can clear this place, they can stay. No more running ‘round like fuckin’ chickens with their heads cut off. Coretta adjusts her grip on Keston and kisses his forehead as her eyes look over their potential new home. Everyone is practically buzzing with excitement. They need this. The kids can’t handle the constant moving around much longer and Lori is due within maybe a month. They have to pull this off.

Rick looks fuckin’ wired as he takes it in. Like he’s on fuckin’ speed or some shit. Coretta likes this Rick more than pissed off months long road trip Rick. He gives them the plan: cut a hole in the fence, then close the gates between the courtyard and the field. Coretta don’t like his idea of how to actually get through that herd alive. Running. She don’t think that’s the cleanest plan. ‘Course, she don’t think anyone wants to rub themselves in Walker guts when they don’t have a way to wash off yet. Coretta is at least mollified by the fact Rick is the one doing the running.

It’s easy getting through the fence into the gravel area between it and the next fence. That’s the part that poses no problems. Rick’s little suicide run is the sketchy bit. Coretta and Mason end up in a tower with Carl while her Keston is by Beth, Maggie and Sophia helping rattle the fence to get the Walkers’ attention. Mason’s got the rifle again, since his kid’s compound bow doesn’t have the range needed for this. Her baby’s shoulder is going to ache something fierce but he’s made it more than clear he don’t give a shit. He wants this too. He’s been bitchin’ ‘bout their nomadic lifestyle for two months now. Coretta waits with an arrow notched to her bow for Daryl to give the signal. She and everyone else seems to wait with their hearts in their throats as Rick takes off through the yard. Coretta gives him props, he’s hauling fuckin’ ass. ‘Course that’s probably the natural reaction to the situation he’s put himself in. He disappears from her view and it’s up to Daryl to let everyone know when it’s time to shoot.

Coretta’s fingers shift uneasily on the bow string just as Daryl calls out loud and clear, “Light it up!”

Immediately, gunfire fills the air and Coretta don’t flinch from the cacophony as she looses arrow after arrow, trying not to instinctively hunt for her daddy among the Walkers. She’ll check the bodies later. Right now, she’s got a job that’s actually kinda fun. Like a carnival game. She’s grinnin’ like a fuckin’ idiot as the stress relief that is this job continues for a few minutes. Mason is beside her hollerin’ insults and crowin’ happily with each shot he makes. Sounds like him and Carl are havin’ some kinda competition. Coretta is glad her boy is having fun. Even if it’s a bit of morbid fun.

The last Walker falls and there’s a moment of silence as everyone just takes in the sight of the cleared yard. Then there’s laughter and cheers. They can do this. They can fuckin’ do this. Everyone gets down from their perches and makes their way to the gate that Lori is waiting by. There’s huge smiles on faces that haven’t smiled enough in the past few months, Coretta swears she’d almost forgotten what a genuine smile looked like.

Coretta grins wide at the sight of Keston being swung up onto Daryl’s shoulders as the little boy giggles wildly and waves at her, “Momma! We got a house!”

Coretta laughs at that, “Sure did, baby, a big one.”

T-dog joins in, reaching up to ruffle the boy’s shaggy hair as he walks by, “Never ever thought I’d hear someone so happy ‘bout a prison.”

Daryl has one hand on Keston’s leg to help him balance while the other holds his crossbow. He shakes his head, “Little man the first kid in history ta wanna go ta prison.”

Coretta laughs at that. It’s true, since Daryl showed Rick the prison on the map, Keston’s been talking nonstop ‘bout it. He thinks it sounds awesome. Coretta ain’t ‘bout to disagree, though her reasons and his are very different. Mason and Carl are a little ways ahead of everyone and arguing over who won their competition. Coretta knows Lori and Rick don’t approve of the way the boys are towards this new world, but Coretta thinks it’s for the best. They need to be able to live with it. Though, the older boy gets a bit depressin’ at times. Least the boys are friends. Coretta thinks that’s something.

They set up camp in the yard and Daryl goes to get the dogs while Coretta wanders around looking hard at each dead Walker trying not to be too obvious she’s looking for someone. She doesn’t find him. So she might still have a chance to do the bastard in herself. Coretta thinks she’s starting to fixate. Just a tad. Long as she don’t lose focus, it’ll be fine. Ain’t no issues. T-dog gives her an odd look but doesn’t say anything as she wanders around looking at corpses.

Carol is the one to put an end to her searching for the night, “Coretta, come on, they’re all dead.”

“Just wanted to make sure,” she smiles at the older woman as they head back to the group.

“This is good. Our kids will be safe here,” Carol looks happier than she has in months, more relaxed, though the edge she’d developed is still visible.

“It’s a start. We gotta lotta work ta do.”

“But it’s something. More than what we had. A lot more,” Carol points out, “We just have to clear it now.”

“And keep it.”

“That too,” Carol nods seriously.

Coretta sits down a little way away from the boys to smoke while she relaxes a bit. There’s not much to eat tonight. Just a few scrawny mushrooms, but it’s something. She eats a few before settling for cigarettes to take the edge off. Soon enough, god willing, she won’t need to do this. Hershel wants to farm after all.

She’s halfway through the cigarette when the dogs practically fuckin’ crush her under their weight for a moment before all three take off running through the grass. They ain’t had the space to play in awhile and have been driving Coretta nuts. She’s more than happy to let the dogs burn themselves out. Daryl don’t come over, choosing instead to take up a spot further away from everyone near the gate. Keeping watch most likely, along with getting some time alone. She’ll leave the man be. If he wants her company, he’ll whistle or some shit. She don’t mind Carol taking him dinner. The pair is close as can be. She’s too tired to really think hard about if those two are gonna end up a couple or not. Ain’t like she cares ‘bout what they do. Not her place and all that shit. Beth starts singing some song Coretta ain’t ever heard and damn is she a good singer. It’s a sweet night. A good one. The first in nearly six or seven months. Coretta really fuckin’ hopes there’s a lot more like this.

Chapter Text

Coretta’s leg shakes as they wait to go into the court yard and clear it. Rick is leading the charge with Daryl as his second. Glenn, T-dog, Maggie, and Coretta are all involved too. Coretta had been offered the choice of staying with the kids, but she ain’t good with idle hands and she wants to see if she might stumble on her daddy. Not that she mentions that part. That’s her own personal thing and ain’t no one need to know. She taps her buck knife against her thigh impatiently. She’s ready to get this shit over with. Start moving in and all that. The courtyard and the C-block. Coretta has her bow slung over her shoulder with her quiver full of arrows and is as ready to go as she’ll ever be.

They’re all pressed up against a wall as Rick unlocks the gate. Coretta works to even her breath and forces herself to stop tapping the knife against her leg. It’s time to go to work. The group goes in fast and wastes no time. It’s nasty work, and Coretta grimaces as Walker blood gets on her face as she yanks the knife out of one skull. She looks up to see Walkers in full SWAT gear and curses. That looks like a fuckin’ pain in the ass. A bolt from Daryl’s bow bounces off one of them and Coretta don’t like that shit at all. No one seems to like that shit. There’s a moment where everyone freezes at the sight of that before settling with pushing the SWAT Walkers away from them to deal with the ones that are easy to kill.

Coretta curses as one Walker missing half its face ends up getting her against a wall and she scrambled to drive her knife into its head as it snaps at her face. It’s breath is rotten and Coretta wants to gag as the walker goes limp on her as it dies. She hates when this happens. With a grunt she shoves it away from her and yanks her knife back out. She hardly thinks before shoving it into another skull. Maggie’s discovered the solution for the SWAT Walkers. Just stab ‘em through the bottom of the damn jaw. Fuckin’ smart.

Coretta falls back into step as she dispatches one last Walker and they stop to take it all in. Next is the first Cellblock. Coretta’s eyes rake over every prisoner Walker they put down. None who she’s looking for. Coretta runs her tongue over her teeth and forces her focus back to the next task. Going inside is more stressful, gets her adrenaline up a bit more. She ain’t never been a fan of Walkers in enclosed spaces. She’ll take a herd of the damn things in the woods over a handful in a hall any day of the fuckin’ week. Room to move, room to run, ways to get the fuck to safety. Ain’t none of that in a building. Like rats in a cage.

She’s in the back with Daryl, having switched to her bow for this part. Better not to let the damn things get close in small spaces. It’s dark when they go in and smells nasty. Dead bodies and old sweat and rot and stale air. Coretta’s nose wrinkles as she releases an arrow, one of Daryl’s bolts shooting by her head in the same instance to put down a different Walker a second later. It’s just as messy and quick and mildly terrifying as always. Like livin’ in a shitty fuckin’ horror movie that don’t end.

The last Walker falls and they just take in the sight of the cellblock. Long and narrow and two stories. They need to clean the place. It’s fuckin’ filthy. Blood and dirt and weird stains everywhere. But it’s theirs. It’s secure. Coretta’s gaze flicks over the dead Walkers and disregards each one as she retrieves her arrows. Coretta looks over each cell as they start to drag the dead out. Bunk beds and more than enough cells for the whole group. Not a bad deal once they’ve moved everything in and cleaned it up a bit.

Move in happens quickly once the bodies are out. Everyone’s been waiting for this and are practically clambering to get the fuck inside. Vehicles get pulled up to the courtyard and everyone starts grabbing shit. Coretta moves her boys into the cleanest cell on the second floor wanting them above the ground floor in case something happens to ruin things. She ends up in the cell beside theirs. She ain’t sure what Daryl’s doing but he’s moved into the fuckin’ perch and Coretta just rolls her eyes at that. The dogs get split between her cell and the boys’ cell, Molly-dog with them and the hounds with Coretta. She wrinkles her nose at the nasty ass mattresses but is really too fuckin’ happy to care that much. Better than no mattress after all. She thinks she’s got sheets she’s scavenged in her truck. It’ll be fine.

Coretta sets to work unloading her truck with Mason’s help. Moving their shit doesn’t take long. Mainly cause they’ve run outta most shit over winter. Still, they’ve got clothes, blankets, weapons, and some toiletries left, along with dried dog food she found at an abandoned pet store. Those get moved in immediately while everyone else unloads their own shit. Coretta is humming happily as she gets the few toys Keston has and gives them to the little boy to take inside.

She gets her small hoard of cigarettes and the moonshine last. Priorities gotta stay straight after all. She ignores Daryl’s snort as she walks up the stairs with the box full of shine and cigs. Ain’t his business what she uses to destress. Ain’t like she drinks often. Only when ain’t nothin’ goin’ on and she can afford to take the edge off a bit. And he bums too many cigarettes from her to be able to complain about her massive fuckin’ stash of ‘em that’s only grown from finding more during scavenging. Rate she’s goin’, she’s gonna have the damn apocalyptic monopoly on the things.

That night is a good night too. Everyone is tired and the work is over for the night. Tomorrow, they wanna find the infirmary and cafeteria. Start working on the rest of the damn prison. Find weak spots too. They wanna make shit as secure as they can. Too much to lose otherwise. Coretta fully plans to rig her and her boys’ cell with cans like the shack. Ain’t never know when dumb shit might happen. Dogs and cans are good fuckin’ warning bells.

Coretta puts her boys to bed early and leans on the railing to look down. It’s not a pretty place, not pretty at all, but Coretta don’t need pretty. She needs safe and it’s safe. It’s warm. It’s something solid and real and Coretta is more than content to live in a fuckin’ prison. She lights a cigarette and silently offers Daryl one when he joins her by the railing.

He takes it and the lighter and nods to the cell her boys are in, “They out?”

“Practically comatose. Got in a fight over the top bunk earlier,” Coretta shakes her head.

“Yeah? Who won?”

“Mason, Keston ain’t big ‘nough yet ta win that fight,” Coretta chuckles and takes a drag.

“Gonna find the cafeteria tomorrow, ya comin’?”

Coretta looks over at him, The poncho he’s been living in is gone but the angel wing vest is still on his back and his hairs getting long since he won’t let her cut it. She exhales and shrugs, “Yeah, unless I’m needed here more.”

He nods, “Why ya keep lookin’ at the dead Walkers?”

“Makin’ sure they’re dead, of course,” She doesn’t miss a beat.

He squints at her and she knows he don’t buy it at all, “Ain’t never done that before.”

“Didn’t realize ya paid that much attention,” Coretta keeps her eyes on her cigarette.

“Don’t start, woman, ain’t lookin’ for a damn fight tonight,” he warns her, but she can hear the note of amusement. She’s gotten good at that.

“Ya did good. Findin’ this place. Not bad at all, Dixon,” Coretta shifts enough to bump his shoulder with hers.

“Shut up,” he mutters and takes a long drag.

“Y’know ya love my talkin’, ya’d avoid me if ya didn’t,” Coretta retorts.

He shakes his head and gives her a glare that ain’t halfway annoyed, “Gonna drive me insane one day, all three of y’all.”

Coretta laughs low and quiet, “Ain’t the worst thing ta happen.”

“Ain’t sure ‘bout that, ya should sleep, yer boys are safe. Ain’t no need for ya ta sit up all night,” he takes another drag and gestures towards the cell she claimed.

“Force of habit. Just waitin’ for something ta go wrong,” Coretta ain’t quite ready to try and sleep all night. Feels like tempting’ fuckin’ fate.

Daryl squints at the stairs leading up to the second floor then his perch then back at her, “Ain’t nothin’ gonna happen, shit gotta get through me ta get ta y’all. Gimme some fuckin’ credit.”

Coretta just puts her cigarette out, “Ain’t my bodyguard, Dixon. But I appreciate the sentiment.”

He makes a grumbling noise, “Fuck off.”

Coretta pushes off the railing and tosses her hair over her shoulder, “Language, don’t want Mason tryin’ ta use ya for target practice again.”

Daryl snorts behind her as she walks off to her new home. Coretta ain’t sure how it happened, but she finds she fully trusts him not to let nothin’ near her boys and her. Makes goin’ to sleep in her little cell on her shitty little mattress with the dogs under the bed a lot easier than she thought it’d be. Makes fallin’ asleep in the same prison her daddy’s corpse is wanderin’ ‘round seem less unnerving. Bit odd to her, but she ain’t got the energy to think ‘bout it tonight.

Chapter Text

Finding the cafeteria is an actual fuckin’ shit show. Coretta kinda regrets not just staying with the others in the cellblock, but she’s fixated hard now on finding her daddy’s corpse so she can kill him herself and she sure as shit wasn’t ‘bout to not go. Still a goddamned mess though. Narrow hallways, no light except their flashlights, a shitload of fuckin’ Walkers. Coretta ain’t havin’ a good time. At all. No one else is either.

They push forward and fall back when larger groups of Walkers appear and have to pick them off. Over and fuckin’ over. Things go to hell after the third time and Coretta ain’t sure how but Glenn and Maggie got separated from the group. Ain’t no clue where they are and Hershel calling for Maggie is drawing Walkers more and more. Coretta hisses her fury and frustration as she stomps on the skull of a Walker that fell over, too keyed up to be grossed out by the feeling of a rotting skull surrounding her boot.

Things get hairy again and she’s back to back with T-dog and there’s a pile of Walkers between them and the others and Hershel gets bit. Right on the damn leg. Coretta chokes the old man’s name out and stabs another Walker in the head. There’s general chaos as the group starts killing Walkers as fast as they possibly can to get to the old man, Daryl and Rick getting there first. The group manages to drag him through a set of double doors and Coretta is given the sharp command to get Glenn and Maggie and go to the cellblock to get ready. They’re gonna amputate the damn leg. So they gotta go find the fuckin’ the infirmary. Coretta spits curses but takes off like a shot. They ain’t got time for screwing around.

Coretta is running have blind and stabbing Walker after Walker. It takes longer than she’d care to admit, but she finds them in a closet surrounded by Walkers and just loses her shit. They ain’t got time for this. She hits the wall with her hand good and loud to get the Walkers’ attention and just starts working. Glenn and Maggie must realize what’s happening, because they come out of the closet and get to work with her. It’s over quick and she’s telling them they need to get to the cellblock, Rick’s orders. So they go. She tells them why on the way and Maggie starts screaming at her for not telling her immediately which makes Coretta snap and snarl at her that they ain’t got much time and they need to get to the damn infirmary.

Maggie is still pissed at her but they go. Pausing just long enough in the cellblock to tell Beth, Carol, and Lori they need to get ready for what’s coming and then they’re gone again. Hunting for the infirmary with a near insane level of fervor. It’s easier than the cafeteria. Maybe just ‘cause they’re fuckin’ rabid to get through the mess and get what they can for Hershel. Maybe just less Walkers. She ain’t really sure, but they get there and it’s a mad dash to find every little thing they can grab to use. Gauze, medications, what looks like painkillers. Coretta ain’t a nurse, she don’t know what half the shit they’re grabbing is for, but she grabs what she’s told to grab and they’re gone again.

They get back as the rest of the group is rolling Hershel in on a damn rolling cart and the supplies is pulled from her arms by Carol. Coretta steps back and lets the people who know how to help handle it. She knows the bare minimum medical shit. She ain’t got any knowledge about amputations and don’t wanna get in the way. She nocks and fires an arrow on instinct when there’s motion she’s not expecting near the door off the cellblock.

Rick’s head whips around at her as her arrow misses its mark by bare inches and he snaps out, “Don’t! We found survivors!”

Coretta glares at the newcomers and nocks another arrow, just in case. Rick don’t take kindly to that and snarls, “Coretta!”

She don’t lower the bow, but she does grit out, “Won’t kill ‘em ‘til ya say so, Bossman.”

Must be enough for Rick, because he lets it go, has to really, since Daryl’s crossbow is up and aimed at the front guy and Rick ain’t say shit ‘bout that. Some Mexican dude with a look on his face she don’t like at all. He’s got a little revolver too. She bets she could kill him before he got that thing up. Her eyes flick over the others. Five in total. She wants to just kill ‘em and get it over with, but Rick is the fuckin’ King and his word goes.

Coretta’s eyes flick up to her and her kids’ cells. The dogs are whining and barking but her boys are in their cell, hardly visible where they’re crouched behind Molly-dog. Good, she don’t want these guys seeing her boys. Not unless Mason’s usin’ ‘em as target practice, at least. She might make an exception then.

Her attention turns back to the strangers as she listens as Daryl has to actually explain the fuckin’ apocalypse to them. Who the fuck don’t know about the damn apocalypse? It ain’t like it was done quietly or nothin’. People who been locked in a cafeteria for nine fuckin’ months are who missed the damn memo, apparently. Coretta wants to snort in derision at the utter confusion on the five idiots’ faces. Except that one. That one is trying to slap his dick down on the damn table. Trying to run shit. Coretta is itching to put an arrow through his skull. She don’t like the way he’s looking at her and the other woman and Sophia, either. Coretta don’t like it at all. One word from Rick is all she needs.

The deal Rick works out ain’t one Coretta likes. She wants to remind him they got numbers and weapons on their side. They ain’t gotta negotiate with idiots who got one handgun. Coretta is pretty sure the inmates ain’t gonna be the one’s winning if they try to play this game. Clearing a whole damn cellblock for half the food in the cafeteria. Coretta ain’t a fan of it. Lots of work to let a bunch of assholes they don’t know stick ‘round. She ain’t big on strangers. Coretta’s yet to murder a person, but with the way this day is going, she finds she ain’t above it if they piss her off.

Rick has her join the group to go clear the cellblock, as they walk out, he tells her in a low tone, “They try anything, especially Tomas, don’t hesitate.”

Coretta nods sharply, she can do that. She is fuckin’ delighted by Rick sometimes. He’s a shit leader sometimes, but when his head ain’t up his ass, she’s happy to follow him. She ain’t sure if Rick gets the same feelin’ from the man as her or if he just don’t like the dude tryin’ to give orders, but she don’t really care. She gets the feeling those orders apply to everyone in the group. These newcomers aren’t them. Ain’t ever gonna be them. Coretta ain’t expecting anyone in the group going to clear another block to give ‘em half a chance to try shit.

One of them, the skinny, nervous white guy tries to talk to her. That gets him an arrow aimed between his eyes from her and Daryl snarling, “Far as yer concerned, she ain’t here or I’ll kill ya.”

None of the prisoners make that mistake again. Though, Tomas keeps looking her over and she thinks an arrow to the ballsack would do him a world of good. A warning look from Rick is all that keeps her from acting on that idea. Just barely, though.

Watching the idiots attack a group of Walkers like they’re living people makes a few of her damn brain cells die. She can practically feel them dying off. She ain’t even sure what to make of it. Like they don’t know what a fuckin’ headshot is. Ain’t goddamn hard. They were fuckin’ told what to do.

Then the big one gets bit and Tomas turns his skull into fuckin’ jelly with a crowbar. Well. Coretta takes that as a pretty damn definitive sign the man ain’t in here for a nonviolent crime. A glance at Daryl and she can see he ain’t anymore impressed than her, his lips are pressed into a hard line and she can see the muscles in his arms tense a little, like he’s fighting the urge to put a bolt in Tomas right then. Rick’s face is dark and she can see him practically ticking off boxes in his head for Tomas’s chances to not get fuckin’ murdered. Ain’t lookin’ good.

When he makes his last idiotic move by trying to kill Rick and gets a machete to the skull, Coretta is satisfied enough by it that she actually fuckin’ worried about herself. That ain’t normal. The end of the world is really screwing with her ideas of right and wrong. Ain’t nothin’ supposed to be satisfying ‘bout a man’s death. The little dude runs off and the last two are nearly executed. Coretta wants them gone. She says so. Rick looks like he agrees but a deal is apparently a fuckin’ deal ‘cause they ain’t fuckin’ animals and they get to stay. In their own damn cellblock.

Coretta spends the rest of the day wandering down the halls they’d gone through, checking Walkers. She ends up having to kill a few more before Daryl apparently notices she’s disappeared and comes to hunt her down.

“Hell ya doin’? Gonna get yerself killed,” he snarls at her as he approaches and shoots a lone Walker coming towards them in the head.

“Makin’ sure they’re dead,” Coretta ain’t getting into her actual reason.

“Like hell ya are. Don’t bullshit me, woman, why the hell ya keep lookin’ at fuckin’ dead Walkers?” He looks pissed the hell off.

“Just told ya,” Coretta snarls back, “Fuck off.”

“Sure, just as soon as ya tell me what I should tell yer boys when ya get yerself killed bein’ a fuckin’ idiot,” Daryl snaps.

Coretta nudges another head with her foot and shines her flashlight on it. Not him. Checks the one beside it and is disappointed again. Fuck. She don’t know if she wants the man already dead or if she wants to do it herself. Ain’t sure which would be easier. Ain’t sure which would be the better situation.

“Well?! Ya gonna answer me?!” Daryl’s voice gets deep as he gets angrier.

“My answer ain’t gonna change. Help me out or fuck off. I don’t care which,” Coretta hisses back.

Daryl’s face twists and he fires a bolt into a walker that comes around the hallway corner, “Ya wanted somewhere safe, I found ya a place. Ya wanted yer boys fed, they’re fed, ya wanted this shit. Why the hell ya fuckin’ ‘round in here? Ain’t makin’ no fuckin’ sense.”

“Ain’t gotta explain myself ta ya, got my fuckin’ reasons,” Coretta growls out and checks another.

He glares, “The hell ya lookin’ for?”

Coretta narrows her eyes at him in the darkness, “S’cuse me?”

“Yer lookin’ for someone, ain’tcha? That why ya checkin’ ‘em all?” Daryl sounds just as pissed but calmer. Like having a theory makes him feel better ‘bout the whole thing.

“It matter? I’ll find what I’m lookin’ for in time,” Coretta ain’t getting into this shit.

“Ya tell me, I’ll help ya, dammit. Don’t need ya gettin’ killed ‘cause yer fuckin’ ‘round in the dark after one fuckin’ Walker,” He sounds irritated again.

Coretta stops what she’s doing and looks at the buck knife in her hand, “Y’know, I visited this prison exactly once, ‘fore the world went ta hell. Kinda. Drove all the way out here, got Mason a fuckin’ babysitter and everything. Couple months pregnant with Keston. Drove all the way up here, didn’t even park. Just kept drivin’. Waste of damn gas and time and money. Wade was so pissed when he found out. So was Jesse. Different fuckin’ reasons though.”

Daryl is silent and in the flashlight beam she can see him eying her warily, “Who were ya visitin’?”

“Not sure why I went, lookin’ back. Ain’t like he showed remorse at the damn trial, y’now, where it mighta done him some good. It’s why I kept drivin’ ‘cause I fuckin’ knew it wouldn’t do no good. Knew he weren’t gonna feel fuckin’ guilty. Fuckin’ waste of time, back then,” she’s speaking low and quiet.

“Who?” He grits it out.

“Daddy. ‘Bout time we have a family fuckin’ reunion.”

Daryl’s face is unreadable, “Yer old man was locked up here?”

“Sure was. I’m gonna bash his head in with a fuckin’ baseball bat. Maybe set him on fire like Jesse would,” Coretta smiles real prettily at the thought.

Daryl looks away and looks back at her for a moment and without warning starts kicking the head of a dead Walker in until it’s little more than fuckin’ mush. When he’s done, he’s breathing hard and right in her face, “Y’know this shit when I showed ya the fuckin’ prison on the fuckin’ map?”

“No shit, I knew.” Coretta ain’t gonna pretend otherwise.

“And ya didn’t think ta fuckin’ mention it? Didn’t feel like sharin’ that with the fuckin’ class? Just slipped yer damn mind?” Daryl is getting louder.

“Shelter, safety, and a chance ta kill the bastard. I see no fuckin’ problems,” Coretta retorts, listening carefully for any sounds of Walkers.

Daryl’s lips are pressed together so hard they’re white, “Woulda found a different place if ya’d told me. Wouldn’t’ve made ya live in the same place yer old man was locked up.”

“Don’t mind it. I like our new home. Just need ta do this. Need ta know the bastard ain’t walkin’ ‘round no more. Livin’ or otherwise.”

Daryl is still pissed, very clearly so, but he grunts out, “Fuckin’ fine, but ya ain’t runnin’ ‘round alone. Ain’t like he’s goin’ no where.”

Coretta tilts her head and her hair falls over her shoulder while she looks at him, “I’m puttin’ him down if we find him.”

“Fine. Don’t give a shit, woman. Just ain’t gonna let ya kill yerself over it.”

Coretta nods a bit and turns back to the task at hand. Just a few more and she’ll stop for the day. Daryl follows her quietly, a large, pissed off, warm presence at her back. She would prefer to do this shit in her own, but she ain’t interested in being literally dragged back to the cellblock by the man. She’s got too much pride for that shit and she ain’t gonna explain herself to the whole damn group. Daryl is good at keepin’ his mouth shut, at least with him, she knows he ain’t gonna say shit.

Chapter Text

Coretta keeps watch on the kids while Carol and Glenn go find a walker to practice C-sections on and Lori and Maggie and Beth keep an eye on Hershel. Coretta seems to have gotten the unofficial babysitter job. She ain’t sure how that happened, but it did. Probably ‘cause she can actually keep track of Carl when she cares to, unlike his momma. Ain’t like he’d listen to Lori anyway. Boy has been pissed as shit at her for months since Rick killed Shane. Whole fuckin’ Grimes family is fucked. Coretta feels for Lori, she does, but she ain’t ‘bout to get involved in that mess. They’ll work it out. Ain’t like they got an option. Kinda stuck together considering the baby and the apocalypse and all.

She keeps her bow on her while she keeps an eye on them in the yard. Place is cleared out and the bodies been burnt up, but she ain’t willin’ to just let ‘em roam without eyes on ‘em. Carl and Mason keep wandering near the fence like they wanna stab the Walkers on the other side of it with sticks. Coretta tolerates it so long as they don’t act on that fuckin’ impulse. She ain’t interested in corpse clean up right now. Sophia is playing with Keston, looks like tag again. The dogs are running around after them and Coretta figures this is the most relaxed she’s seen the kids in fuckin’ months.

Coretta is planning on hunting soon. Already cleared it with Rick and got Beth to agree to watch the kids. Sweet girl don’t seem to know how to say no. Coretta ain’t sure if it’s ‘cause she’s a people pleaser or she just likes kids. She just gotta wait a couple days ‘til they get the gates fixed up like they want. Make sure things are nice and fuckin’ secure ‘fore they start goin’ in and out. The guys are all doin’ construction shit, repairing what can be repaired and replacing what can’t be. Busy fuckin’ day for them.

She figures if she can get Carl not to raise hell, her and the kids can start cleaning the damn cellblock once they get bored out in the yard. She don’t like the fuckin’ bloodstains everywhere. Don’t like the mess. She’d kept her trailer damn near spotless and her shack mighta been shitty, but she’d kept it clean as she could. She fully intends to get the damn cellblock up to her fuckin’ standards. Growin’ up, her house had been fuckin’ nasty and she’s fuckin’ weird ‘bout cleanliness now. She don’t mind dirt on her, but she can’t fuckin’ stand dirty housing situations. Next run Glenn makes, she’s putting in a request for fuckin’ cleaning supplies. Gonna bleach the hell outta the place. Needs to regardless of her personal feelings for when Lori has that baby. Gotta have a clean place for that. They ain’t got the antibiotics to deal with an infection right now.

Mason comes running over to her, Keston wringing his shirt in his hands as he trails after him, leaving Sophia with Carl. The older of her sons stops and shifts a little before blurting out, “Are there any pictures of Daddy?”

Coretta freezes and stares at him, her heart in her throat for a moment. She ain’t prepared at all for this, she stammers a bit, “Uh, maybe, might have one in the truck, why, baby?”

“Keston can’t remember what Daddy looked like,” Mason sounds like he wants to yell at the world for that.

Coretta’s frozen and staring and she starts hyperventilating a bit, but she forces out, “Take Carl and Sophia inside with y’all, I— I’ll go look, alright? Might have one somewhere.”

She feels a bit numb as she goes out to her truck and climbs in. She hunts through the whole damn thing. She has to have one. She knows she has to. Wade had a picture of her and the boys when Keston was just born in his truck. She has to have at least one of him somewhere. She fuckin’ has to.

Coretta’s breathing hard as her searching becomes more frantic. One fuckin’ picture. Just fuckin’ one. She has to have one. Why can’t she fuckin’ find one? She’s cursing and slamming doors as she keeps looking and looking and looking. She ends up sitting against the back tire of her truck, knees pulled up to her chest and hands in her hair as she tries to calm down. She can’t find a fuckin’ photo of her husband. She doesn’t have a single one. She thought she did. Why didn’t she keep one in the damn truck? She ain’t never considered that she didn’t fuckin’ have one.

Coretta screams into her arms to muffle herself as months and months of suppressing her grief finally boils over. She’s crying and cussing and shaking and just falling apart. All because she can’t find one single fuckin’ photo so her baby can know what his daddy looked like. She feels like a fuckin’ failure of a mother. A wife. She’s tried so damn hard for her boys. Tried her hardest to hold it all together and keep them alright. Tried to keep their damn hopes up that maybe Wade is alive somewhere. Maybe he’ll find them. She’s known, she ain’t stupid, that he probably ain’t. But she didn’t wanna take that hope from the boys, especially Keston. And she ain’t even able to do one simple fuckin’ thing like show them a damn picture of their daddy.

A shadow falls across her and she jerks a little at Carol’s voice, “Coretta? What’s wrong?”

Coretta tilts her head back against the truck to look up at the grey-haired woman and chokes out, “Keston don’t remember what his daddy looks like anymore and— and I— I thought that—that I had one, just one fuckin’ picture of him and I don’t. I don’t have shit for Keston. What do I do?”

Carol sighs and sits beside her, a rag in her hands to wipe the walker blood of from her surgery practice, “You tell your sons who their father was. Tell them what he looked like, what he sounded like, tell them stories about him. Tell them about the things he liked and what mattered to him. You can’t show them a picture, but you can tell them about him. You can remember him for them.”

Coretta makes a broken little noise, “It ain’t the same.”

“No, it’s not, but it’s something and it matters. He mattered, to them and to you,” Carol’s voice is gentle as she speaks, “Tell me about him.”

“What?”

“Your husband. You don’t talk about him. So tell me about him.”

Coretta has to swallow a few times before she can speak, “He was pretty. Real pretty. Had big brown eyes like Keston’s. Dark hair, kinda curled at the ends. Keston has blonde hair now, but I’d bet the dogs that it’ll darken up ta match Wade’s when he’s older. He’s his daddy’s spittin’ image. Could talk for hours ‘bout anything. Didn’t matter what ‘bout, neither. Just liked ta talk. Liked ta joke. Could have a real temper too. Like Mason. Used ta scream himself hoarse when shit would go wrong. Never at the boys though. Never. He loved ‘em more than anything in the whole damned world.”

Carol smiles sadly, “What else?”

“He could never sit still. Always needed ta be doin’ something. He’d get all jittery if he weren’t busy. Like he was gonna explode if he weren’t doin’ something. Terrible at answering phone calls too. When I had Mason, my brother— for once, he was sober— had ta drive me ta the damn hospital, Y’know? Whole time we were in the truck, he was callin’ and callin’ and callin’. Probably left a dozen voicemails. Wade got there ‘bout an hour after us. Still all nasty from workin’ on cars all day.”

“You tell your boys all that, and everything else you can think of. Can’t show them who he was, but you can tell them. You can tell them about how Keston looks like him and Mason’s got his personality and how much he loved them. You tell them all that; it’ll never be enough, but it’s better than nothing at all and a picture doesn’t tell them who he was,” Carol’s voice is firm.

Coretta sniffs a bit, “He’s probably dead. I know that and Mason probably does, Keston don’t, though. Still thinks he’s gonna find us. I don’t know how ta tell him that if Wade were alive, he’d have found us back at that stupid fuckin’ shack.”

“You tell him the truth and let them grieve. Let yourself grieve. Then you heal. You move forward. It’s the only thing you can do,” Carol takes one of Coretta’s hands in hers and pats it gently, “It’s the world now, there’s nothing we can do but move forward.”

Coretta doesn’t say anything back and they just sit in silence for awhile while she pulls her shit together. She holds onto that little wedding ring on her necklace as her tears dry. Nothing fancy. Nothing to write home ‘bout, hardly worth anything, but she loved it. Had loved Wade. Does love Wade.

But Carol’s right. She has to start letting him go. She can’t carry his ghost with her everywhere she goes and her boys should get to know about the man. When she’s able to stand, Carol walks with her back into the cellblock and gives her an encouraging smile as she calls her sons to her. She needs to talk to them. Needs to tell them the truth, even if they already figured it, she needs them to hear it. They need to hear it. She don’t wanna do this, but nine months have passed and it’s time.

So, she leads them up to their cell, kneels down in front of them, and tells them. They end up all crying on the floor of the cell together for awhile, the quiet tears that she taught them to cry back in their little shack. By the time it’s over, both boys have crawled into her lap and she’s clinging to them and breathing in their scents as the tears dry up again. They’ll be alright. She has to believe that. They’re gonna get through this and they’re gonna be alright.

Chapter Text

Things are going well, two weeks into living in the prison, life is settling down. Glenn is leading runs as always, and gets what Coretta fondly terms grocery lists from everyone. Coretta’s is mostly cleaning supplies and things for the boys. She don’t like asking for too much. Don’t wanna make things hard on whoever goes with Glenn on the runs, since she ain’t one to go often. Which is fine by her. She prefers hunting and staying close to home. Prefers being close enough to the prison to get there fast if something happens. As it is, she’s got an issue. Mason wants to go hunting with her. And he ain’t taking no for an answer.

She knows he needs to learn. Needs the skills to survive. Knows he ain’t an idiot and it would probably fuckin’ fine. Still, she don’t wanna take him out with her. He’s fuckin’ safe here, so is Keston. She don’t wanna take him out of their concrete haven. She wants him where ain’t nothin’ gonna happen to him.

“No, I already told ya, ya need ta stay here and watch Keston,” Coretta snaps as she finishes checking her arrows.

“Why? There’s the whole group! I’m bored and wanna hunt too!” Mason’s got his skinny arms crossed over his chest and his chin up lime he thinks he’s gonna change her mind.

“‘Cause ya ain’t needed out there. It’s dangerous and I want ya safe. That such a bad thing?” Coretta checks over her bow strings. They’ll need replacing soon. She’ll add that to the grocery list when Daryl goes out on a run with Glenn. Since Daryl will know what she needs for her compound bow.

“I can hunt! Ya taught me! Daddy taught me! Even stupid Daryl taught me! I can kill Walkers too! Y’know I can!” Mason looks like if she were anyone else he’d be cussin’.

“Don’t call Daryl stupid, he’s done a lot for us. I know all that shit, but yer still a kid. A child. Kids ain’t sent inta danger unless they have ta be. It ain’t gonna happen,” Coretta grits out as she fixes the buck knife into her belt.

“I ain’t stayin’! I’m comin’ too! Ya can’t make me stay!” Mason yells and stomps his foot like a toddler.

“I can and I am. Yer stayin’. Lori and Beth gonna be in charge of y’all while I’m gone. I hear one word from ‘em that ya gave ‘em a hard time, I’ll tan yer hide, hear me?” Coretta is out of patience. She needs to go while it’s still early enough animals are moving and Mason ain’t fuckin’ coming.

“I hate ya!” Mason throws at her and runs out of her cell, straight into an exhausted looking Daryl’s chest.

Coretta ignores the stab of hurt she feels at her son’s words. She knows he’s just pissed. That he’s a kid and he don’t think before talkin’. Knows he’ll feel real sorry for those words when he calms down and that he don’t mean them. That part of it is that he’s grieving his daddy now that she’s told the boys he ain’t coming ever. It’s the only reason she don’t respond to ‘em.

Daryl does though, his hand falls on Mason’s shoulder and keeps him from running off, “Apologize ta yer momma. She ain’t done nothin’ ta deserve ya sayin’ crap like that.”

Mason tries to jerk his shoulder out of the man’s grip, but it don’t do shit. Her scrawny, angry eight, probably nine, year old ain’t near a match for Daryl. He glares up at the man, having to crane his neck to do so, “Ya can’t tell me what ta do! Ain’t my daddy! He’s dead! Ain’t yer fuckin’ business!”

“I’m goin’ with her. She can’t pay attention ‘cause she’s all torn up ‘cause ya were rude ta her and she gets bit, I’m the one that gotta deal with it. It’s my business, kid. Now tell yer momma yer sorry,” Daryl’s voice is gruff and annoyed.

Mason looks absolutely mutinous, but after a short stare down with the man, he turns to her and mutters, “M’sorry.”

Coretta sighs and bends down to kiss him on the head, “I know. Keep Keston safe while I’m gone.”

She wasn’t expecting company on her hunting trip today. Normally she hunts alone and so does Daryl. They ain’t ever gone out on a hunt together and she ain’t sure what to make of it when the quiet man keeps his word and follows her and Red outta the prison and through the gates. Lucy fucked her foot up last time she took the blue-tick out and Hershel made it damn clear that she can’t be hunting for a few weeks, so it’s just the redbone coonhound today.

They don’t do any talking. He follows trails while she follows Red. They separate more than once and have to use whistles to find each other. Or he finds her when Red starts baying. It’s a good hunting day. Spring is here and seems like everything in the woods has figured out how to avoid walkers. She grins widely at the pair of fat raccoons she manages, they don’t taste great, but food is food. A couple birds end up in her bag too. Daryl wins their nonexistent competition though. Man gets a whole ass doe.

Coretta helps field dress it without a word and they take the thing apart real quick for easier carrying. Coretta ain’t had to field dress a deer in awhile, but the motions come easily after doing this with Wade so often. Red eats the guts as fast as he can, choking them down like he ain’t ever seen food before. Greedy bastard.

Daryl carries most of the deer, while she ends up with the skin he’s planning to tan, and the shoulders of the doe. The walk back is mostly silent save for the occasion groan of a Walker that gets put down with hardly a glance.

They’re maybe halfway back with their prizes when she gets bored and breaks the silence, “Ya weren’t gonna come, I was goin’ alone. Like always. What changed?”

Daryl don’t say a damn word back, just grunts and adjusts his hold on the deer. Coretta glares at the side of his head at the lack of response. That ain’t gonna work, “Ya goin’ on Glenn’s run tomorrow?”

“Why?” He sounds annoyed, but he’s talkin’. She counts that as a win.

“Was hopin’ ta place an order,” Coretta huffs out.

“Whatcha need?”

“New string for my bow. Shit’s ‘bout ta snap and I don’t think Glenn knows much ‘bout bows,” Coretta explains and wipes sweat off her forehead.

Daryl don’t say a word for a minute, then, “See if I find some if ya tan that skin for me.”

“Deal. Whatcha usin’ it for?” Coretta ain’t sure what he wants to use the doe skin for.

“Ain’t yer concern. Mason ain’t gonna stop ‘til ya take him out, Y’know,” Daryl sounds like he’s uncomfortable with what he just said.

“He don’t like bein’ cooped up with nothin’ ta do. He’s too used ta how it were before. I’ll figure somethin’ out,” She whistles at Red a second later when he runs out of view for a moment.

Daryl grunts a bit in acknowledgement, “Need anything for those two?”

“Keston needs new shoes, outgrew his last pair and don’t fit in Mason’s yet. Books or something, maybe. Want him ta be able ta read and we ain’t cleared the library yet. Mason needs a pants. His got too many holes in ‘em ta be worth fixin’.”

“Right. Ya need anything for yerself?”

“Nah. Ain’t need much. Ain’t worth the added risks,” Coretta shrugs. She just needs shit for the boys. She can make do with what she’s got for herself.

Daryl just nods as they make it back to the prison gates and have to run through before the Walkers that are a constant fuckin’ presence on the fence come for them. Coretta relaxes only once the gates are closed tight behind them again thanks to Maggie and Glenn. The pair turn over the venison for that nights dinner immediately. Most will be salted to preserve it for another day, but Coretta figures a good chunk will be thrown into a pot and they’ll be havin’ stew tonight. She sets to work on the birds, sitting on the stairs and plucking feathers with Keston while Mason ignores everyone.

They put the feathers in a bag so she can sort through them for ones she can use for arrow fletches later and then she works on teaching Keston to skin and gut raccoon. Molly-dog and Lucy are more than thrilled about the guts tossed their way. Much to Lori’s absolute disgust when she walks out of her cell and sees them. Woman is due any time now and still has nausea from time to time. That shit people talk about with morning sickness being temporary is bullshit. Babies don’t stop bein’ picky little shits just ‘cause they’re nearly ready to be born. Least Lori only gets it a little now. Was way worse for awhile there. Coretta had actually become concerned by it for a bit.

Skinning and plucking done, Coretta gets everything salted for later and starts working on tanning everything. The damn doe is gonna be a pain in the ass, but a deal is a deal. Getting all the fat and flesh off it is nasty business and hard fuckin’ work, but she does it without complaint. Explaining the process patiently to Keston as he asks her question after question about it. Keston loves asking questions and she lets him try it for himself. He’s gleeful at getting to help. Proudly showing her his progress as if she weren’t watchin’ the whole time.

Coretta grins to herself when he runs off to Daryl who’s busy making himself arrows and excitedly starts telling the quiet man about it. Daryl just ruffles the boy’s hair in response and Keston runs off to tell everyone else in the damn cellblock. Kid loves shit like this. Thinks it’s the fuckin’ best thing ever. Wade would be so damned proud, she just knows it. Coretta goes back to work on the damn doeskin and is curious as hell to know what Daryl even wants it for. She’s betting it’ll used for a makeshift blanket or some shit once it’s done. Not like Daryl lives off more than the bare fuckin’ minimum. Soon as the showers get fixed, she’s already accepted she’ll be bodily dragging him into them like she does her boys when they don’t wanna wash themselves. Man needs it. Whole damn group would thank her too. Her and Carol are fully planning to get him in the damn showers one way or another.

Sophia comes over as Coretta’s finishing up cleaning the hide an hour or so later, “Miss Coretta?”

“Yes ma’am?” Coretta glances at the girl. She’s come outta her shell, but she’s still a quiet girl.

The girl looks embarrassed as hell, “Um, I need help.”

Coretta raises an eyebrow and glances around the cellblock. Carol is out stabbing Walkers through the fence and Lori is trying to get Carl to do something. Coretta thinks Sophia is twelve or thirteen and can guess what’s wrong based on the embarrassment, “Ya need girl help?”

The girl’s face is bright red and she nods real quick, “Yes ma’am.”

“Ya bleedin’?”

Sophia looks like she wants to sink into the earth, “Yes ma’am.”

“First time?” Coretta figures she’s got pads and tampons in her cell, but she wants to know if she’s gonna have to teach this girl how those work.

“Yes ma’am, Mom told me how everything worked but—“

“—But ya still need help,” Coretta finishes for her and stands up, cracking her back as she does, “C’mon, I got pads and tampons in my cell. Yer momma gonna have ta teach ya ta use tampons though.”

Coretta leads the young girl up to her cell and rifles ‘round in her box of shit for a second before handing the child a few pads, “Ya need me ta show ya how ta put those on? Or ya good?”

Sophia stares down at the pads with wide eyes for a second but shakes her head, “I think I can do it. Thank you, Miss Coretta.”

Coretta just smiles at the girl, “Yer welcome. Make sure ya tell yer momma. She’ll help ya out.”

Sophia looks embarrassed still even as she runs off and Coretta goes back to her work. Having two boys means she ain’t ever thought she’d have ta worry ‘bout that conversation before. Ain’t like she had it with her own momma after all. Woman was already gone by then and poor Jesse had had to help her figure it out. Blind leading the fucking blind there. Worst experience ever and the two of them vowed never to mention it again. Coretta forgets real quick ‘bout that little interaction as she focuses on her task. Deal’s a deal and she wants this shit done right. Ain’t like she’s got much else to do anyway. She’ll get to the raccoon skin next.

Chapter Text

The run takes two days and Coretta’s helping Carol clean a cell top to bottom to be used when it’s time for Lori to have her baby. They do everything they can to make it spotless. Lori is probably gonna need a C-section and they need a clean space for that. So they clean like mad. Scrubbing everything in the chosen cell until their hands are red and raw. They need to give Lori and her baby the best possible chance they can. If a C-section is necessary, the odds are already bad, they just need to keep them from getting worse.

“Maybe they’ll find painkillers. She’s gonna need ‘em for a C-section. We ain’t got the heavy duty shit here,” Coretta says as she works on cleaning the metal frame of the bed.

“Hopefully, it doesn’t come to that. I’ve been practicing but it won’t be easy,” Carol is putting clean sheets on the bed.

“Childbirth never is, she did it once though, she’ll manage again,” Coretta mutters and grimaces at how raw her hands feel.

“That was before. When we had hospitals and doctors and medicine,” Carol’s voice is soft and Coretta can hear the concern the woman keeps hidden most of the time.

“She’s got Hershel once he’s up and walking. She’s got ya too. Y’all will get her through it,” She smiles as reassuringly as she can at the other woman.

“Never imagined we’d be back in the dark ages, childbirth in the apocalypse. Doesn’t sound very pleasant, does it?” Carol’s tone is a cross between gently amused and resigned.

“Childbirth weren’t exactly pleasant before. Took Mason nearly thirty hours ta finally come out,” Coretta grimaces at the memory of that. She’d cussed Wade out good and long in that hospital bed.

Carol winces a bit at that, “No C-section?”

“Nah, Doctor nearly made me, but I was terrified of gettin’ cut open. Wouldn’t agree unless Mason or me were dyin’,” Coretta wipes her hands on a clean rag as she finishes.

“I was in labor with Sophia for fourteen hours. She was so little when they put her in my arms,” Carol muses.

“We’re sure she’s due in two weeks, right?” Coretta glances out of the cell when Beth walks by.

“As best we’re able to predict,” Carol nods, “Why?”

“Gonna be hard enough without a preemie, y’know?” Coretta points out. Babies born too early sure as shit don’t got an easy time. Their lungs ain’t good yet or something.

“Let’s hope that doesn’t happen,” Carol says it grimly.

The sounds of the cellblock doors opening and Glenn calling out that they’re back from the run draws everyone’s attention. It’s a good way to get everyone to pause what they’re doing to see what was scavenged. Coretta rinses the water down cleaning products off her hands and goes to check on a napping Keston. She leans against the cell door and smiles to herself at the sight of the little boy cuddled up to Molly-dog and drooling onto his pillow. She needs to cut his hair. She’ll have to find the scissors. Satisfied her youngest son is actually napping, she checks Mason who’s playing Uno with Sophia and Carl. Looks like he’s about to win. Lucy and Red are laid out on either side of the boy. Coretta only goes out to see how the run went once she’s checked the kids.

Glenn needs a bath it looks like. So do Daryl and T-dog. They look like shit. Probably had some issues, but all three came back and Coretta takes that as a good sign. T-dog is cracking jokes with Carol while Maggie and Glenn seem like they’re off in a world of their own. Daryl’s blue eyes lock on her and he pushes off the wall he’s leaning on, putting out a cigarette as he goes, and comes over.

“Got yer shit. Ain’t sure what kinda books ya wanted for Keston, found a couple though,” Daryl digs around in the saddle bag of his motorcycle and pulls out a few dr. Suess books.

Coretta grins a bit at those, “Thanks, these’ll be perfect.”

He hums and digs some more, pulling out new bowstrings for her and a plastic bag that’s got children’s clothes and a pair of kid’s hiking boots, “These good for the boys?”

“Yeah, these’re perfect,” Coretta beams at him, “Thank ya so much.”

“Whatever. Ya got that skin all done up?”

“Sure do. Needs ta finish dryin’ though,” Coretta warns.

“Right, found something else for ya,” Daryl chews the side of his thumb for a second before digging around in his back pocket and tossing her something.

Coretta barely manages to catch it and raises an eyebrow when she sees what it is. A bracelet. A wide plain leather cuff type thing with a turquoise stone. It’s pretty. Coretta ain’t sure what to think. It’s pretty, she likes it, but she ain’t asked for anything she don’t need. Tries not to make things harder for the runners. Still, she accepts the gift without a fight and smiles at him, “It’s real pretty, ya didn’t have ta get me anything.”

Daryl squints at her and shakes his head, “Ain’t nothin’, just looked like yer kinda thing.”

Coretta laughs a bit at that and snaps it onto her wrist nice and quick, “Whatcha think?”

Daryl glances down at her wrist and shrugs, “Looks fine. Ain’t gonna break easy like a chain.”

Coretta smiles at him again, “Who’d’ve thought Mr. Daryl Dixon could be sweet.”

“Fuck off, woman,” is his immediate response.

Coretta rolls her eyes and goes to take the stuff to her cell, “Thanks ‘gain, Dixon!”

She’s thrilled at what Daryl found for her boys. The hiking boots are a bit big for Keston, but that’s good, he’ll grow into ‘em. She folds the pants Daryl found for Mason carefully. She’d only asked for one pair, but he’d found a few that all should fit the boy well enough. Coretta’s not sure when he’s gonna decide he’s paid whatever debt he thinks he owes them for helping Sophia, but she figures it’ll be any day now that they’ve got a safe place. Ain’t like he’s got any other reason to be the way he is towards her and the boys.

Coretta stacks the children’s books as nicely as she can under the boys’ bunk. She’s careful not to wake Keston as she slips back out. They have a birth to finish getting ready for and Glenn brought back bleach. She’s ‘bout to go fuckin’ nuts with that shit. Whole damn cellblock bout to smell like fuckin’ bleach. Coretta can’t fuckin’ wait.

Chapter Text

Coretta’s in the watch tower keeping guard when shit finally goes south. Hershel has just gotten back on his feet and Coretta can see Beth walking with him as he tries his new crutches. It’s a nice day. Everyone is doing something and  the kids are all out and under Lori’s supervision. Daryl, Rick, and Glenn are checking something at the fence awhile Coretta sits up in the watch tower, gun on one side and bow on the other, and smokes a cigarette lazily. She’s got three more hours before T-dog takes over and she’s got nothing else to do but smoke and watch Walkers wander outside the fences.

She’s mid drag when she looks over at the prison and her fuckin’ heart stops. Walkers inside. Coming towards Hershel and the people with him. She doesn’t even think, just screeches out at them, “Fuck! Walkers behind y’all!”

Things go to absolute shit about a second later as the prison alarms start blaring and more and more Walkers appear and people fuckin’ scatter. Coretta sees Carol and T-dog grab Sophia and Keston while Mason disappears with Lori, Carl, and Maggie. Coretta spews cuss words as she grabs the rifle and starts shooting every fuckin’ Walker she can. She’s got thirty rounds and a quiver full of arrows. She can’t afford to miss. They just keep coming though and the alarms are screaming and she can’t get down because the gate has popped open and Walkers are fuckin’ flooding in. Coretta has no idea where her sons are or if they’re safe or where anyone else is and she can’t get outta the damn watchtower. Distantly she’s aware of the dogs barking like mad somewhere and one of them shrieking yelps. Fuck. Coretta don’t think about the dogs anymore. She just keeps fuckin’ shooting.

She runs out of bullets and switches to her bow. With the gate open and the sirens calling every damn Walker to them, she’s fighting a loosing fuckin’ battle alone and she wants to throw something. Wants to scream and curse and break things as her frustration and fear builds up. She can’t though, so she settles for putting arrows into decaying heads. It feels like a fuckin’ lifetime before the sirens are cut off and she’s down to five arrows. She’s still stuck in the damn watch tower though and she ain’t liking the fact she’s got a field full of damn Walkers between her and the fuckin’ cellblock.

She’s cussing a storm as she looks down at that mess. She can do it. Probably. So long as she’s smart ‘bout it. Don’t make much noise. Coretta puts the buck knife between her teeth and starts climbing down. There’s seven Walkers crowding the bottom and she don’t like the dumb shit she’s ‘bout to do but she ain’t staying in the fuckin’ watchtower. She needs to find her sons.

She takes a deep breath and bites down hard on the buck knife as she judges the distance. Might be able to make it. Has to be able to make it. She can hear voices calling for people as Rick, Daryl and Glenn reappear with Hershel and Beth in. Coretta hears Daryl shout at her but can’t make out what the fuck he’s saying. Ain’t like it matters. She’s getting down and finding her boys right fuckin’ now. Fuck whatever he just yelled at her.

She braces for just a moment as the Walkers under her snarl and snap and groan, then launches herself off the watch tower. It’s a hard landing that jars her bones and makes her shove down a gasp of shock. She forces herself to stand and takes off running. She can hear shouting as she draws closer to the gate to the courtyard and nearly gets bit by a Walker that she has about a second to stab in the head. Then she’s running again. Glenn is yanking the gate open and she’s squeezing through right before a small pack of Walkers hits it. She’s shaking and panting and already looking around for Mason and Keston, calling their names loud and sharply. Using the tone she does when she wants them to get their asses to her immediately. Mason was with Lori. Keston has Carol and T-dog. They’ll be fine. She just needs to see them. Needs to fuckin’ know they’re fine.

“Coretta— Coretta, stop,” Rick steps towards her, eyes sad and sympathetic and she ain’t gonna listen. She keeps calling the boys.

“Hey, um, Coretta, you need to stop— it’s about Keston,” Glenn tries, his voice unusually subdued.

No. She ain’t listening. She shakes her head and calls her sons’ names louder as a baby’s cry breaks the air. Coretta’s head snaps around momentarily to see Maggie and Carl and Mason. All bloody and wide eyed and there’s a baby and no Lori and Coretta don’t give a shit. Mason is fine. She can see that. She starts screaming for Keston.

Daryl grabs her by the shoulders as she starts the way she saw T-dog and Carol take the Keston and Sophia. His eyes are red and he looks like he wants to scream, “Coretta! Stop! T-dog’s dead. We can’t find Carol or the kids. All we found was Carol’s scarf she was wearin’.”

Coretta stops calling for her baby and just stares at the man, while Rick falls apart behind them. Head cocked and face blank, she real quietly asks, “Did ya even look?”

“Yeah, we looked. We can’t find ‘em,” he sounds like he wants to cry or throw a punch. Like he’s barely holding it together.

She don’t give a shit, she feels numb and barely moves her lips as she asks in an empty voice, “My baby is gone?”

Daryl has a funny look on his face, like he’s physically in pain, “I’m gonna keep lookin’, I’ll find him. I’ll find all of ‘em.”

“My baby is gone,” she repeats it and her head is spinning and she feels like she’s been fuckin’ gutted. She don’t even react when Mason comes over. Don’t even glance at the boy. Keston is gone. He ain’t here. Carol and Sophia and her Keston are all gone and T-dog is dead. Coretta shakes loose off Daryl’s grip and shakes her head violently. No. No. No.

Beth tries to come comfort her and Coretta don’t think before snarling, half blind and half mad with grief, “Fuck off, ya stupid fuckin’ bitch! Don’t wanna hear shit outta ya! All y’all can go ta fuckin’ hell!”

She ain’t sure how she gets there, but she ends up on the floor of her cell, just Molly-dog and Red for company, since Lucy went and got killed by the damn Walkers. She’s got the cell closed and the sheet covering the door and she’s drinkin’ shine like she’s trying to fuckin’ die. She ignores Mason calling for her. Ignores the sound of Daryl’s motorcycle leaving and the sound of the baby crying. Ignores everything and everyone and drinks and drinks and drinks and then she gets pissed. Real fuckin’ pissed and stumbles to her feet. Starts throwing shit around her little cell and screaming her grief. She ignores when Maggie knocks on her cell’s bars. Ignores when Hershel tries his luck. Ignores Mason and Carl and Glenn. Ignores fuckin’ everyone and just drinks more. Her baby is gone. Her baby ain’t here. Ain’t even a fuckin’ body to bury. Coretta just wails and wails and wails. Ain’t nothing okay anymore and she wants to not feel anything. Wants to not be anything right now.

She ends up sitting in a destroyed cell with a jar of moonshine in her hand and a Dr. Seuss book on fire in front of her and she just stares into the flames. She ain’t ever burnt shit up outta anger before, but fuck, she gets it now. She can’t kill herself, but she can make something else become nothing. She stares and stares into the flames and she wants to be dead. Like her momma. Like wade. Like Hunter. Like her baby. She just don’t wanna exist at fuckin’ all. Ain’t fuckin’ worth it if she’s gonna be outliving her kids. She can’t fucking do it. Don’t fucking wanna.

Coretta has no idea what the hell happened to cause things to fall apart, and she don’t really fuckin’ care. Ain’t like it matters. Things went to shit and her baby is missing and she don’t know what to do. Her baby is missing and she needs to find him. Coretta stops thinking past that and stumbles up to her feet and grabs the buck knife. She’s fucked up and she knows it and she don’t give a damn. The world is swaying and she’s seeing double and she’s gonna go find her baby or die trying.

She makes it to the door of the cellblock before Glenn and Maggie stop her. Maggie getting the knife outta her hand and Glenn bodily dragging her back into their cellblock and away from where she wants to be. She’s screaming and struggling again and completely mad with grief. Glenn ends up sitting on the floor holding her back while Maggie is in front of her and talking fast. Coretta don’t hear a word the girl says. Just starts sobbing and goes limp. She don’t wanna do this shit. She just wants her baby. Why won’t they fuckin’ let her go find her baby?

Chapter Text

She’s put on what’s essentially suicide watch. Hershel sits by her bunk with his bible while she stares at the wall. They sit in silence because every time he tries to speak she shouts at him. Mason is with Carl and Beth and Rick’s baby while they wait for Daryl to get back with formula. Rick has lost his mind and run off into the lower levels of the prison. Glenn is burying T-dog and Lori while Maggie takes watch over. Coretta ain’t sure who did it but someone repaired the damage she did to her cell. Hershel had her shine moved to Daryl’s perch after they found the small fire she started in her cell. Apparently, they’re enforcing a liquor ban until further notice. Coretta doesn’t give a shit. Just stares at the wall in silence. For hours. Since they won’t let her leave the cellblock.

Hershel clears his throat and starts reading a passage out of the Bible, “And whatever you ask in prayer, you will receive, if you have faith—“

“Matthew 21:22. I know. My momma was real big on the Man Upstairs and the Good Book. S’all bullshit,” Coretta finally breaks her silence without yelling for the first time since this mess began.

“While you may not believe, I’ve found there’s quite a bit of comfort to be found in this old thing,” Hershel’s voice is calm and steady as always.

“Yeah? Well keepin’ the fuckin’ faith was my momma’s thing back before the fuckin’ Jesus decided ta raise the damn dead. Ain’t no faith worth keepin’ these days,” She snarls it and keeps her back to the man.

“You kept faith that your husband was alive for your children. Even when you yourself did not believe so. I think you understand the importance of hope quite well. Your son may well be alive, Coretta, to give up now is not the type of woman you are. I’ve seen you, I’ve come to know you quite well these past months and giving up is not in your nature. Keep the faith, Coretta. For as long as you can,” Hershel advises.

“Ain’t like I can go fuckin’ find him. Can’t do shit ‘cause y’all won’t let me,” She snaps, anger flaring again.

“That is because you were inebriated and grieving. To let you go would have been the same as helping you commit suicide,” His voice is firm.

“Why don’t ya worry ‘bout that girl of yers that slit her own damn wrists instead of how I decide ta handle losin’ my fuckin’ son.”

“Make no mistakes, I keep a close eye on my girls. But this group is family, Coretta, and you and your sons are part of that. You are not alone in your grief.”

“Just fuck off and leave me be if ya ain’t gonna let me go find him.”

Hershel sighs, “I’ll leave you alone for a bit, I need to check the baby, but first I’d like to leave you with this, ‘For I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you hope and a future’ Jeremiah 29:11. I’ll come sit with you more in a moment.”

Coretta just curls into herself. She doesn’t want to talk anymore. Would rather stay silent than form a retort. Ain’t nothin’ worth sayin’ anymore. She stares at the wall so long her eyesight burns and doesn’t twitch when the roar of Daryl’s motorcycle returning breaks the silence around the prison. Coretta doesn’t move when she hears the cellblock door slam open or the quiet conversations that begin. She doesn’t so much as twitch when Daryl’s voice raises and the cellblock door slams again.

She just lays there and listens to that baby screaming as the group tries to get her to take a bottle. The noise makes her insane. So much so that she stands up and walks out of her cell barefoot and glaring and goes down the stairs towards the source of the screaming. Beth is holding the child and trying her damndest to get it to eat.

Coretta ignores the way everyone is staring at her and just holds her arms out expectantly, “Give it. She needs ta eat and it’s fuckin’ clear ya don’t know what the fuck yer doin’. Sick of that fuckin’ cryin’.”

Beth stares all wide eyed at her for a moment before slowly and carefully handing the baby over. Coretta shifts it immediately into the crook of one arm and holds it the way she held her babies. She takes the bottle in one hand and uses the trick old lady Margie taught her with Mason: take the bottle’s nipple and hold it to the brat’s nose before running it down to its mouth. Works like a fuckin’ charm every time and Coretta sighs in relief as the baby finally shuts up.

“You’re good with her,” Beth whispers like she thinks a starving baby is gonna care more ‘bout noise than food.

“Two babies. Ain’t hard.” Is all she says and offers the baby back to the girl, bottle kept carefully in it’s mouth.

“You don’t want to feed her?” Beth seems surprised.

“No. Just got sick of the damn noise.” Coretta snaps as Beth takes the baby back. She doesn’t stay to socialize. Just stalks back up to her cell and ignores the eyes on her. She slams her cell door shut behind her and sits on her bed with her back against the wall and legs up to her chest. She stares ahead and loses all track of time for awhile.

“Ain’t like ya ta be sittin’ ‘round feelin’ sorry for yerself, girl. Hell’s wrong with ya?” Coretta knows she’s lost her mind when she hears Wade’s familiar drawl talking to her from beside her bed.

She doesn’t fight the crazy, just turns her head to start at her grief-induced hallucination. Not-Wade is leaning against the wall, cigarette in one hand and dark brown hair curling around his work hat. He don’t look happy with her for all he’s slouching and relaxed looking. His wide, chocolate colored eyes are nearly black with rage. She glares back, “Yer dead, ya don’t get an opinion no more.”

“Dead or not, Doll, still gonna tell ya yer bein’ a mopey bitch. Kes is missin’. Ain’t got time ta be lazin’ ‘round feelin’ sorry for yerself. Get yer ass up and find that boy. Ain’t hard, y’all livin’ in a damn prison. Only so many fuckin’ places a kid could be,” Not-Wade takes a drag of his cigarette.

“Group ain’t lettin’ me leave the cellblock,” she grumbles.

“Since when does Miss Coretta Ann Claire let anybody tell her what ta do? Fuck, girl, we known each other our whole damn lives, I tell ya ta do shit and ya tell me ta go ta hell. Ya know these fuckers less than a year and they can tell ya not ta look for our son? What happened ta the queen bitch I married? Used ta take no shit from no one. Woulda made them fuckers sorry for tryin’ ta keep ya from findin’ Kes.”

“I ain’t been Coretta Claire since the day I married yer dumbass,” Coretta snarks back.

“Always gonna be pretty little CeeCee ta me, Doll. Should fuckin’ know that by now, widow or fuckin’ not. Now wake the fuck up and get yer shit together. Sick of seein’ ya look all pathetic,” Not-Wade gripes.

Coretta twitches as Not-Wade turns and grabs her shoulder, giving it a hard shake, “C’mon, girl. Wake the fuck up!”

Coretta wakes up with a jerk and her head cracks against the fuckin’ wall. Shit. She hadn’t realized she fell asleep. She blinks dully at Daryl crouching beside her bunk with his mouth pressed in a thin line, “Hell ya want, Dixon? Don’t need a fuckin’ babysitter. Ain’t gonna hang myself.”

“I fuckin’ know ya ain’t. I found ‘em, Coretta, fuckin’ did it,” his voice is softer than she’s ever heard it and he sounds like he’s ready to fall apart at the seams even as he gives her a cocky smile.

Coretta stares at him, his meaning not computing, “Ya put ‘em down? Think Glenn’s been diggin’ graves.”

Daryl stares at her like he thinks she’s outta her damn mind, “I ain’t put nobody down, woman. C’mon, get up, see yer son.”

Coretta glares at him, not liking the joke at all, “Fuck off, ya ain’t fuckin’ funny. Keston’s fuckin’ gone.”

Daryl’s eyebrows come together and before she can react he’s dragging her outta the bunk and picking her up like she weighs nothing. Coretta looses her shit. She’s struggling and cussing and Daryl doesn’t give an inch, just carries her outta her cell and into Mason and Keston’s, “Fuck, woman, just look.”

Coretta freezes when he sets her on her feet and keeps hold of her arms. Keston’s in his bunk and Hershel’s checking him over and he looks like he needs a year’s worth of sleep and a good bath but he’s there and he’s breathing and he ain’t dead. Coretta’s knees give out and Daryl goes to the floor with her, keeping her from hitting her knees too hard on the concrete. Her eyes are fixed on her son and she just keeps memorizing his face. Mason is sitting by him like he’s ready to attack anyone who gets too close.

“See, woman, he’s fine, I found him. He’s gonna be fine. Hershel said so. They were in a fuckin’ supply closet, had a couple dead Walkers blockin’ the door. He’s fine, he’s fine. Told ya I’d find him,” Daryl is holding her up and talking low in her ear even as she just keeps staring at her youngest son.

Hershel pushes himself up, using the crutches to keep balance and gives her a warm smile, “Keston is going to be fine, Coretta. A bit dehydrated and a bit hungry, but nothing a few days rest and recovery won’t fix.”

“He’s okay?” She croaks it out. Her hands are shaking and she thinks she’s crying.

“He’s alright. He’s fine. He ain’t gone. Ain’t dead. He’s here, ya see?” Daryl sounds like he’s reassuring himself too. Like Keston matters to him as more than just a debt that needed to be repaid.

“Yeah, yeah, I see,” Coretta starts laughing in sheer relief even as tears pour down her face.

Mason inches towards her, “Momma?”

Coretta laughs and reaches out a hand to him, “C’mere, sweetheart, give yer momma a hug.”

Daryl lets her go as Mason slams into her, skinny arms wrapping tight around her neck. The man stands up and mutters that he’s gonna go check on Carol and Sophia as he slips out. Coretta just hugs her older boy and stares at little Keston sleeping in his bed like he never left. Coretta ain’t never had this kinda good luck before and she ain’t got a clue what to do with it, but for now she just moves so she’s sitting by Keston’s head and holding Mason as she hums to them, as much to calm herself down as to comfort the son that’s awake.

Chapter Text

She’s overprotective as fuck for a few days after that mess with almost losing Keston. Won’t let the boys outta her sight, won’t let them not be where she can’t grab them quick. It means she can’t go hunt, but that’s fine. She can watch the kids and do chores and shit for a while until she calms back down. Rick has lost his shit spectacularly since Lori died and no one has a damn clue what to do about it. He’s running around the prison with a fucking axe and putting Walkers down alone like a one man fuckin’ army. Ain’t no one quite ready to touch that mess with a ten foot pole. Man makes her little freak out look reasonable. Least she weren’t running ‘round all bloody and holding a damn axe. Daryl is unwillingly put in charge while Rick has his trip into insanity.

It puts everyone on edge, knowing Rick is having a bit of a break with sanity. Ain’t a good thing considering he’s the fuckin’ king. Not that anyone likes Coretta’s names for their official leader’s position. She thinks they’re fuckin’ hilarious though.

Coretta has Keston sitting nicely in her lap while the group has a meeting about what to do about Rick. She’s sitting at one of the metal tables between Beth and Glenn while Daryl sits on the steps on the stairs holding the baby. Coretta was startled by how much he’d taken to the baby, calling her little Ass-kicker and helping Beth with her when needed. Coretta supposes he just likes kids or something.

“Someone’s gotta do something about Rick,” Maggie starts.

“Hell we supposed ta do? Man’s got an axe and we can’t exactly resurrect Lori,” Coretta adjusts her grip on Keston who’s sitting in her lap. Mason and Carl are sitting a little ways off, glaring at the adults.

“He cleared a whole cellblock alone earlier, he’s gonna get himself killed,” Glenn sounds exhausted just thinking about it.

“Someone has to go get him. Stop him from hurting himself. We did it with Coretta,” Maggie points out.

“‘Cause I was drunk. He ain’t drunk. He’s grievin’ and got a damn axe. Plus, he already left the damn cellblock. Gonna be a bit harder ta drag him back,” Coretta ain’t lookin’ forward to them having to knock sense into him.

“Rick needs time to grieve, but we need him here,” Hershel’s voice is sympathetic but firm.

Daryl snorts, “Ain’t gonna go get him. Man wants alone time, I say let him have it.”

Glenn turns to stare at the man holding the baby, “Is that what we’re calling it? Coretta wanted alone time too. You’d have killed us if we’d let her run off to do what he’s doing.”

“S’different,” is all Daryl says.

“Why? It’s been two days,” Maggie snaps.

“Just is. Rick’s able ta handle himself,” Daryl mutters.

“So’s Coretta, still woulda killed us if we let her go,” Beth murmurs.

“I was also fucked up as hell on Shine, Rick’s sober. I think,” Coretta counters.

“Speakin’ of, I’d like to suggest, perhaps, getting rid of the moonshine,” Hershel sounds like he’s trying not to admonish her as he makes the suggestion.

“No,” Coretta glares, she has one freak out and now the man thinks she needs them to keep an eye on her.

“Why? You set a book on fire in the cellblock,” Maggie points out.

“Got mad. Ain’t have nothin’ ta do with the shine. It was my husband’s and I’m fuckin’ keepin’ it. Thank ya, kindly. Didn’t hurt no one,” Coretta glares at the brunette reproachfully.

“Coulda hurt yourself,” Maggie counters without missing a beat.

“We’re here ta talk ‘bout Rick’s crazy, not mine, or has that changed?” Coretta shifts her hold on Keston.

“I will go speak to him, if everyone is agreeable,” Hershel pushes himself up with his crutches.

“Watch out for Axes,” Coretta mutters and stands up, setting Keston on the ground, she may keep her boys close since what happened, but she ain’t bout to carry ‘em ‘round everywhere like they ain’t got legs.

She watches Hershel as he limps off to find Rick and everyone else kinda scatters. She plays with the bracelet on her wrist and goes over to Daryl and the baby. It’s a cute baby. She’ll admit that much, she’s always had a soft spot for babies, it’s why she wanted a few kids before all this happened. Even if both her boys were accidents. Happy accidents, but accidents.

“Daryl Dixon and a baby, not a sight I ever thought I’d see,” Coretta leans against the railing as Keston stands on his tiptoes to look at the baby in Daryl’s arms.

Daryl gives her a look, but she can see he’s not annoyed, “Carol said the same thing. Lil’ Ass-kicker’s pretty cool, though.”

“Guess that’s one way ta describe it,” Coretta eyes the baby. Babies cry. Loud. Can’t teach ‘em to cry quiet. Just gotta figure out quick how to keep ‘em happy. Cute, and Coretta likes babies, but not exactly good for the fuckin’ apocalypse.

Keston is fuckin’ enraptured by the baby, “Why’s she so little?”

“S’how babies are. Ya used ta be tiny,” Coretta strokes his hair a bit.

Keston wrinkles his nose, “Was not.”

“Baby, I was there, ya were that small,” Coretta counters and looks at the baby again, before looking back at Daryl, “Gonna need a pacifier for her. Lots of diapers and shit. Probably gonna need reusable ones. Lot more runs for formula, gonna be a hassle.”

Daryl squints at her, “We’ll do what we gotta do. It’ll be fine. Glenn and Maggie’re goin’ on another run tomorrow.”

Coretta nods a bit, “I know. She got a name yet?”

“Nah. Rick’s crazy and Carl is tryin’ ta pick one. Heard ya got her ta take the bottle, wouldn’t hold her, though,” Daryl drawls.

“Just couldn’t stand the noise no more,” Coretta shifts her weight to her left leg.

He hums, “Take her ta Beth for me? We can go huntin’.”

Coretta hesitates and glances down at Keston, “Ya gonna stay in the cellblock if I go?”

Keston blinks up at her, “Okay, Momma, when can I go?”

“When yer a bit bigger, stay with Mason for now, alright?” Coretta forces herself to stop hovering. Ain’t gonna do the kids any good if she starts smothering them.

“Can ya leave Red?” Keston gives her pleading eyes, since Lucy died, her kids have clung to Red and Molly-dog.

“Sure, baby,” Coretta glances back up at Daryl and hesitates a moment before holding her arms out for the baby, “Grab my bow for me?”

Daryl is astoundingly gentle as he settles the baby into her arms and nods, “Yeah, will do.”

Coretta shifts at the feel of the warm, tiny weight in her arms and takes in the baby’s face as she does. She’s awake, kinda. Her eyes move around in that bleary, not all there look newborn babies all seem to have. Least she ain’t cryin’ though. Coretta hums to the infant as she walks her to Beth, keeping her movements as smooth as she can. No reason to risk all that screamin’. Baby’s got a set of lungs on her.

Beth beams at her when she appears with the baby, “Hi, Coretta! How is she?”

“Fine, Daryl asked me ta bring her ta ya, goin’ huntin’, Y’know?”

Beth coos at the baby as she takes her from Coretta, “Almost time for her to eat anyway.”

“Yeah, um, Beth?” Coretta figures she should apologize for the things she said when Keston was missin’.

“Yeah?” Those wide, innocent looking eyes blink at her expectantly.

“I’m sorry, y’know, for the shit I said ta ya. Shouldn’t’ve said all that,” Coretta scratches her neck and glances at her boots.

Beth just smiles, “It’s alright. You were scared and upset. People say all sortsa things when they’re like that. Ya didn’t mean it.”

Coretta gives a tight smile in return and steps away, eyes searching for Daryl. He’s coming her way and he jerks his head towards the doors when he spots her, her bow and quiver slung over the opposing shoulder as his crossbow. She falls into step beside him and catches the compound bow he tosses her way, the weight more familiar in her hands than the weight of a baby now.

They stay close to each other as they hunt. They don’t talk as they move through the trees. Listening for animals and Walkers and people alike. The quiet sound of Daryl’s crossbow releasing is one of the only noises they make. Coretta smiles in quiet pleasure when one of her arrows buries itself in a squirrel.

Daryl eyes the squirrel as she pulls her arrow out, they’re at ten now, “Where’d ya learn ta hunt?”

“Jesse. When Daddy was sober, before I was born, he taught Jesse. Then Jesse taught me. Kept me outta the house, away from Daddy when he was pissed,” Coretta answers smoothly, “Then Wade liked huntin’ too. So, he would bring me along. Mason too, when he was big enough.”

Daryl nods a bit, “Ya don’t look like the type ta like it.”

“Yeah? What do I look like then?” Coretta raises an eyebrow when he squints and chews his thumb.

“Like the kinda woman that should be bakin’ cookies or some shit in a fancy ass dress in a fancy ass house. Not guttin’ squirrels,” he finally answers as he turns away.

“Ain’t the hand I was dealt. Never was much one for bakin’. Never came out quite right. My momma was real good at it though. Coulda been a damn baker,” Coretta offers.

“Yeah? She didn’t teach ya?” Daryl glances back at her from where he’s looking at hog tracks.

“Nah. Never had the energy ta, seemed like,” Coretta shrugs it off.

“My ma, she baked sometimes, every once in awhile. Cookies mostly. Some kinda peanut butter things, made the whole damn house smell good,” He says it like he was about to say more but thought better of it.

Coretta considers that, “Used ta try ta bake. All the time, when Mason was like two or three. Got it in my head if my momma could do it, ain’t no reason I couldn’t. Always messed it up, drove Wade up a wall, ‘cause it was a waste of money when I couldn’t ever get it right. Gave up eventually. Just got the shit from the store.”

Daryl shoots a squirrel that’s running up a tree, “How old were ya when y’all got married?”

“He was nineteen, I’d turned eighteen a week before. Was pregnant with mason less than two months later,” Coretta laughs a bit, “Condom broke and we were too drunk ta notice. Too hungover the next day ta think ‘bout it. Quick end ta the honeymoon phase, I’ll tell ya that much.”

“Was he pissed?” Daryl questions.

“Maybe? Never figured that out, he stared for, like, an hour at the fuckin’ line of pregnancy tests on that bathroom counter, came out, stared at my belly for awhile, just walked out. Came back two days later, said he’d been plannin’ ta pick up a side job anyway and ta tell him when my first doctor’s appointment was so he could get time off,” Coretta grimaces a little at the memory. That had been a stressful two days.

“Where’d he go?”

“Two day bender with his friends. Least, I think so. Smelled like whiskey and stale beer and was hungover as fuck when he came back,” Coretta wrinkles her nose as they follow the hog trail. It’s a few hours old at least. Gonna be a pain to find.

“That happen a lot?”

“Nah, never again. Think he was just in shock or some shit. Somethin’ like that anyway.” Coretta knows Wade wasn’t perfect, wasn’t anywhere close— she sure as shit wasn’t— but they did what they could with that they had. Tried to be better than what they’d grown up with. Coretta likes to think they managed it. Even if the apocalypse fucked things a bit.

Daryl rubs his neck as they follow the trail, “Merle, like, ten years ago, had a pregnancy scare. Some one night stand he met at a bar. Showed up couple months later, big as a house. Was a fuckin’ nightmare ta deal with. Turns out, wasn’t even his kid. She fucked some other guy the same week she fucked him.”

“Dodged bullet?” Coretta figures from the way Daryl worded it, Merle wasn’t exactly thrilled with the prospect of a kid.

“Yeah. One of the only times Merle seemed scared. He was fuckin’ relieved when he found out it weren’t his,” Daryl agrees.

Coretta laughs, “Keston was another accident, Y’know. Messed up my birth control. Thought Wade was gonna have an aneurysm.”

“Don’t sound like he much liked kids,” Daryl mutters.

“He liked ours. Loved ‘em. Just didn’t like surprises and didn’t want a third ever. Used ta say he’d cut his own balls off before he’d agree ta make a third. Probably for the best, considerin’ the way of the world nowadays,” Coretta smiles ruefully to herself, she really had hoped for a third, when the boys were older and money weren’t so tight. If wishes were fuckin’ horses.

Daryl squints a bit at her for a moment before looking back down at the hog trail, “Think we’ll be bringin’ back bacon tonight, if the trail don’t vanish.”

“Wouldn’t mind bacon. Used ta make bacon-wrapped dove when Wade went dove huntin’. Shame ain’t no doves comin’ through this time of year, shame we ain’t got shotguns either,” Coretta steps off to put a Walker down that was wandering their way.

“Ain’t got a lot these days. Could be worse, got shelter, got food, got weapons. Ain’t great, ain’t terrible,” Daryl tosses out.

“Well, don’t think I’ve ever heard ya say something so upliftin’, Dixon. I’m impressed,” Coretta pokes fun.

“Shut up, woman,” Daryl sounds embarrassed.

Coretta grins at his back, “Say please first. I know ya know yer manners. Ya get on ta Mason more than enough ta prove that.”

Daryl shoots her a mean look and refuses to respond to that. Coretta laughs and takes that as a win before falling silent again as they keep following the trail. Ain’t no reason to spook the pig off. Damn things are smart as hell. Coretta ain’t interested in losing it. She’s fuckin’ missed pork.

Chapter Text

Maggie and Glenn go on a run, and Coretta decides she’s had enough of Rick being a fuckin’ lunatic. She picks up her weapons and goes hunting for the man. It ain’t hard to find him. Just gotta follow the trail of dead Walkers he’s shoved his axe into. She ends up in what looks like an office or filing room, she ain’t sure really which. Whole place is a fuckin’ mess. And Rick is on the phone havin’ a damn conversation. Lord, she thinks, he’s really fuckin’ lost it if he thinks the phone is working.

“Rick? Who ya talkin’ ta?” Coretta eyes the man warily.

Rick looks fuckin’ outta his mind when he wheels around to face her, phone pressed right up to his ear, “There’s people, Coretta. I’m talking to them right now. They have a place, a safe place. I think we can convince them to let us join them.”

Coretta’s eyes follow the phone line to the plug. Damn thing ain’t even plugged in, “Ain’t no one there. Phone ain’t plugged in.”

“I’m talkin’ to them now! They’re there,” Rick refutes.

“No, ya ain’t, Rick. ‘Cause there’s no one fuckin’ there. This shit ain’t healthy. Ya need ta stop. Go see yer damn kids. Carl, the baby. She needs a name, y’know? Focus on the livin’. Quit talkin’ ta ghosts.”

Rick gets mad at that one, “I’m not talkin’ to ghosts! They’re here on this phone! Here, listen!”

Coretta takes the phone that’s been shoved into her hand and puts it to her ear. Silence. She ain’t shocked, she stares at Rick for a minute, phone to her ear, before she steps to the side and slams the receiver against the wall until it breaks. She ignores his yelling until the receiver is broken beyond repair and calmly turns to look at him, “Get yer shit together, Bossman. Ain’t no one on the other end of the line. Time ta face reality.”

“Reality? You just destroyed our chances of safety! We needed that!”

“No. We don’t. This prison? Safest place we will ever fuckin’ find. Ya said ya were our leader, so get yer shit together and fuckin’ lead. Let the dead stay dead, man, ya got the livin’ ta worry ‘bout,” Coretta gets the grief, she does, but this shit has to stop. Three fuckin’ days. It’s time for him to come back. Time to get his shit together.

Rick starts screaming at her as she walks out. She ain’t arguing anymore with the man. She said her piece. He hears her or he doesn’t. Ball is in crazypant’s court now. He made himself damn dictator, time for the man to step the fuck up and dictate.

She checks walker corpses as she goes. There’s one men’s cellblock left. They cleared C-block and D-block. Rick cleared A-block, more commonly known as death row. There’s B-block left. She ain’t sure, but if he ain’t been put down yet, she’s betting her daddy’s in there. When Rick finally starts leading again, she’s gonna take a day and go see if she’s right.

Carol spots her coming back out of the lowerlevels, “You went to talk to Rick?”

“Sure did, Commander Nutjob’s talkin’ ta people on the unplugged landline,” Coretta shakes her head in disbelief.

“What?” Carol looks baffled.

“Ya heard me. Man is talkin’ ta people who ain’t there. He’s checked the fuck out,” She reiterates.

The older woman purses her lips together, “He can’t lead like that.”

“No shit. Man needs ta pull it together. Axel get the water ta the showers workin’?” The convict had started working on that once he and Oscar were allowed to join C-block. Tryin’ to earn his keep, she supposes. She don’t really care why, she really just wants a damn shower. She’s sick of usin’ a wet rag to clean off.

“Almost, he said it should be done in another hour or so when I went to check,” Carol nods, “We need to do something about Rick.”

“This point, it’s up ta him. He gets it together or he doesn’t. Ain’t much we can do ‘bout this. Just gotta keep movin’ on,” Coretta ain’t got a real idea what to do about Rick. Hershel tried and failed. She tried and pissed him off. Maybe anger will get him moving. Hopefully.

“Not much of a plan,” Carol sounds a bit bothered.

“Best we got. Ain’t like we don’t all know our jobs already. So long as shit don’t hit the fan, it’ll be fine,” Coretta ain’t one for hope, but she is one for stayin’ strong. Rick is the leader, but he’s one man. He ain’t the be all end all of the group. If he can’t pull it together, they just have to pick a new leader.

Carol nods a bit at that and goes off to talk to Daryl, Sophia trailing after her like a puppy. Coretta whistles to get Mason’s attention and jerks her head towards the door, might as well go clear Walkers off the fence and Mason’s been climbing the walls to do something. This is safe enough. She hands her son a stick with a knife taped to the end when he comes into step beside her. She just uses her buck knife.

“The head, Mason, hard as you can,” She instructs when Mason hits a Walker in the neck.

“I’m tryin’, stupid thing keeps squirmin’,” Mason huffs out, blue eyes narrowed in concentration.

“They do that, try again,” Coretta tells him and lines her knife up with the eye socket of a female walker that might have been pretty when she lived.

Mason grimaces at the squelching noise that’s made as his makeshift spear finally goes into the walker’s head, “Nasty bastard.”

Coretta laughs a bit before scolding him lightly, “Language, I know ya know not ta talk like that.”

“Everyone else talks like that,” Mason grumbles back.

“Keston don’t. Sophia don’t. Carl don’t. Kids ain’t supposed ta cuss,” Coretta counters.

“Uncle Jesse said ya had a real bad mouth when ya were a kid,” He points out.

“Uncle Jesse liked tellin’ stories. Don’t mean it were all true,” Coretta puts down another Walker that has broken jaw. She definitely did have a mouth, still does, but that don’t mean she wants Mason dropping curse words every other sentence too. Least not while he’s a kid without good reason.

“Ya think he’s dead too?” Mason takes three tries to stab a large Walker through the jaw up to the brain.

“Hard ta say. Might be, might not. Yer uncle has always been hard ta predict,” Coretta figures if Jesse is alive, he’s holed up somewhere higher than balls. She doubts the apocalypse would make him want to be sober. Hell, it makes her not want to be sober half the time.

“If he is, and we find him, will he get ta live here too?” Mason tilts his head to look up at her.

“If he wants ta. And if he can behave,” Coretta ain’t sure Jesse would get on well with the group. At least if he ain’t been forced to sober up since the world’s end. Maybe sober Jesse could. Maybe.

Mason manages to put down a child Walker without issue and says, “But Rick ain’t behavin’ and we’re keepin’ him.”

“Rick’s havin’ issues. He’ll get back ta normal eventually.” She hopes.

“But he’s leader,” Mason sounds annoyed as he tries to stab another Walker.

Coretta puts two Walkers down in quick succession, “He is, but he just lost his wife. He’s upset like I was when I thought we’d lost Keston.”

“I saw her die, Momma. Watched Carl kill her. Am I gonna have ta do that ta ya, one day?” Mason’s voice is small. He sounds like the nine year old he is instead of a boy trying to talk like a man.

Coretta stops what she’s doing and kneels in front of him, “I hope not, baby. I hope ya never have ta do anythin’ like that, but I won’t lie ta ya. One day, ya may have ta. And if ya do, I need ya ta know it’s the right thing. It won’t be yer fault, and it’d be a kindness, understand?”

Mason’s big blue eyes search her face and his hands tighten on that makeshift spear, “I understand, Momma, please don’t die too.”

“I will try my very hardest not ta, I can promise that much,” Coretta puts her hand on the back of his head and pulls him towards her gently to kiss his forehead. Then stands up and returns to the job at hand. If she’s just a bit more forceful with putting the Walkers down, well, ain’t like anyone is gonna notice.

Chapter Text

Rick comes outta the tombs the next day. Pulls his shit together enough to agree with Carl on the baby’s name. Judith. Cute name for a cute kid. He starts handling shit, asking after issues, coming up with things that need doing in the prison. Goes out to kill walkers on the fence. He still is clearly not all there, don’t take a genius to see that, but he’s not talking to imaginary people so Coretta counts it as a small victory. Better than what he was doing before, for damn sure.

Axel gets the water working and some of the generators up and going. So Coretta drags her sons down to the showers and scrubs them clean. Mason complains because he’s always hated bathing. Keston complains because he’s begun trying to be like Daryl and if Daryl ain’t showering, why should he? Coretta just rolls her eyes and tells him Daryl’s gonna shower too. If she can make him. Since apparently, Keston’s decided Daryl is his role model for hygiene.

She showers after her boys are clean and has them wait by the sinks for her. The water is cold since Axel hasn’t figured out the water heater yet, and it’s only on for a set amount of time so she has to work fast, but getting clean is a wonderful fuckin’ feeling. Getting the dirt off her skin and out of her hair is quickly becoming her favorite thing in the world. It’s nice to see her actual skin instead of dirt. Nice to see clean blonde hair that’s not greasy and caked in dirt. When she’s done, she’s humming as she leads the boys back to the cellblock, wet hair dripping as they walk.

Coretta sends the boys off to play with Sophia, and Carl if he’s in the mood for it, then goes to get Daryl, see if she can’t convince him to shower too. Since Keston keeps on about how if Daryl isn’t showering, he doesn’t get why he should. Coretta’s fully intent on rectifying that little issue. Daryl can be pissy but it’s getting done somehow.

Daryl is up in his perch when she finds him, she pulls a pair of cigarettes out of her current pack and offers him one. Pale blue eyes glance up at her before he takes it from her, “Whatcha want?”

Coretta lights her cigarette and offers him the lighter next, “Showers are workin’. What I gotta do ta get ya ta take one? Keston’s claimin’ since ya ain’t showerin’, he ain’t see why he should. Had ta fuckin’ drag him into one.”

Daryl squints at her and takes a drag of his cigarette, “Ya sayin’ I stink?”

“I’m sayin’ Keston looks up ta ya and I’d like him ta not fight me on showerin’, so what I gotta do ta get ya ta shower too?” Coretta leans against the wall and flicks ash off the cigarette.

Daryl exhales smoke, “Ain’t my problem.”

Coretta narrows her eyes, “I’ll pour water on yer head every damn night until ya shower. Make it yer problem.”

He huffs a laugh, “Didn’t take ya for the type ta water board a man. Shoulda known, yer a bitch when ya wanna be.”

“Ain’t like I ever pretended otherwise. So shower now or nightly water boardin’. Which ya prefer?” Coretta exhales smoke and grins at him.

“Ain’t much of a choice, woman,” He grumbles and takes another drag.

“What? Need better incentive or somethin’?” Coretta flashes him a teasing smile.

Daryl stands up and steps towards the stairs and by extension her, “Hell kinda incentive ya even got? Shine? Ain’t need that shit.”

Coretta laughs as she tips her head back to look up at him, “I ain’t ‘bout ta share that anyway. Limited supply and all that. Not unless ya ask nicely, at least.”

“But ya share yer cigs?”

“Just with ya,” Coretta shrugs carelessly.

“Ain’t I fuckin’ special,” he grouches and starts to walk off.

“Where ya goin’?” Coretta turns to watch him as she puts the cigarette back to her lips.

“Fuckin’ shower, woman, since ya think I smell,” he says it like he’s annoyed but she knows he’d be a lot meaner sounding if he really were.

“Don’t forget ta scrub behind yer ears,” Coretta calls teasingly. He flips her off in response and she laughs as she watches him stalk off to the showers. Least he agreed with minimal arguing.

Coretta figures she’ll make a few arrows for him since he so kindly agreed to a shower. Ain’t like she’s got anything else that needs doing. Laundry is done. Carol is on dinner duty. Kids are all accounted for. Beth is playing babysitter to Judith. Maggie and Glenn are still gone. Hershel is talking to Keston with a gentle smile on his face. Rick is out killing Walkers with Carl. The dogs are begging for scraps from Carol. Axel is fiddling with the generators and Oscar is on watch. So Coretta just works on arrows. Always need more. Damn things break after awhile and they ain’t easy to find in stores no more, takes a lot of scavenging around the area to find ‘em. Better just to make ‘em herself. Save time and energy.

The cellblock doors open and Coretta wants to cuss when she sees what Rick and Carl bring in. A woman. With a damn sword and she looks like she’s bleeding all over. Coretta narrows her eyes and lights another cigarette, before whistling sharply to get her boys to come to her. She ain’t sure what new joke this is, but she don’t want her boys near the stranger. Not with that look the woman is giving everything. Like she’s feral, like she thinks Hershel is now fixing her damn leg so they can feed her to Red and Molly-dog later. Coretta blows smoke out as her boys join her upstairs. Mason is standing between the stairs and Keston and Coretta knows he’s thinkin’ up rude things to say if the woman makes him made. Least he knows not to shoot his bow at people anymore.

Daryl reappears a few moments later, hair dripping wet and looking marginally cleaner and she can feel the irritation rolling off him when he sees their guest. Coretta sighs as he starts snarling with Rick over this. Ain’t no one comfortable with a stranger around. Makes ‘em nervous and twitchy. Ain’t like they meet people often. Their group’s become insular as hell. Become family and all that shit. Hershel and Beth are the most welcoming to people. Glenn too. Everyone else is leery. Even the children are. Especially Carl and Mason. Coretta tells the boys to stay up here and goes down to see what’s goin’ on.

Hershel is stitching a gunshot on the woman’s leg while everyone comes and eyes her. Coretta takes a drag of her cigarette after making sure the baby ain’t nearby, and looks at Rick, “When I said focus on the livin’, bringin’ home strays weren’t what I meant.”

The look he gives her tells her plenty. Just ain’t nothin’ it says is shit she likes. A glance at Daryl’s face and she can see he’s got half a mind to stand there with his crossbow aimed at the woman’s head until someone tells him to knock it off or pull the trigger. Coretta shakes her head and looks at the woman, “Hope yer worth the medical supplies.”

Then the woman says, in possibly the most unfriendly fuckin’ voice ever, “Your people got captured.”

Coretta don’t say a word as Daryl devolves into cussing beside her and Rick starts demanding an explanation. Just keeps smoking and starts mentally tallying up how much ammo they have. Since it sounds like someone is askin’ to be used as target practice if the woman ain’t lying. Coretta hopes the woman is fuckin’ bullshitting them. She really fuckin’ does.

Chapter Text

Coretta channels Jesse and starts making Molotov cocktails as Rick finally fuckin’ takes charge. This Michonne bitch has told a lovely little fuckin’ story ‘bout some town called fuckin’ Woodbury that’s got some fucker that’s called the damn Governor. Coretta ain’t gonna bet on it, but she’s pretty damn sure this man ain’t the governor of Georgia. A whole ass town of seventy-five fuckin’ people. That are keeping Maggie and Glenn hostage. Coretta ain’t never murdered a man before, much less a group of ‘em, but she ain’t a fan of people who kidnap their people. She don’t consider it the neighborly thing to do. Neither does anyone else. So they’re gonna go do a little breaking and entering. Maybe shoot a few people. Definitely cause some destruction of property. All to get their two idiots back. Coretta’s pretty fucking fond of her group of idiots and she really don’t like two of them being taken. So she’s making Molotov cocktails. Thank god she paid attention to Jesse’s lessons in fire and general explosives. Man knew more ‘bout that shit that a broke as fuck kid from the trailer park had any reason to. Wouldn’t teach her most of it though, the fucker.

Rick’s going, so’s this Michonne bitch. Daryl is goin’ too. And the Oscar guy. Coretta ain’t sure if she’s going yet, but ain’t no one tell her she ain’t. So she’s makin’ slight explosives. Figures even if she ain’t coming along, she can send a few welcoming gifts to the fuckers that stole their people. Probably a waste of material, but ain’t no one saying shit. Even if Carol seems a bit concerned by what she’s doing. Daryl keeps shooting her wary looks too. Coretta don’t mind none. Just keeps preparing for this little visit of theirs.

“Coretta, You won’t be coming,” Rick steps forward towards her.

Coretta raises an eyebrow, “Four people versus seventy-five, bad odds.”

“Which is why we’re trying to do this quietly. I want you to stay here, keep everyone safe while we’re gone,” Rick tells her.

“More use out there with y’all. Just sayin’,” Coretta drawls, “These things are just in case shit goes sideways. Need a diversion  or a nice little ‘Fuck you’.”

“Well, we’ll be sure to take them, but I need you here or the only people here to keep the place safe while we’re gone will be Carl, Mason, and Carol. Do you want that?” Rick gives her the kinda expression that she imagines he used on unruly people as a cop.

“‘Course not, Bossman,” Coretta’s eyes slide to Daryl, who’s watching the whole thing with narrow eyes, “Ya better come back in one piece, Dixon. Gonna be pissed if I need a new huntin’ partner.”

“Don’t let the damn prison fall apart while we’re gone. Gonna be pissed if I gotta find a new one,” he shoots back without skipping a beat as she hands him one of the Molotov cocktails, “Why the hell y’know how ta make these?”

“Jesse. Pyromaniac Methhead. Man could make napalm and pipe bombs too. Would only teach me this much though,” Coretta shrugs and hands Rick the other two she made, “Make sure y’all got lighters for these, try not ta drop ‘em on yerselves.”

“We’ll do our best. Everyone needs to stay inside the cellblock until we get back. Don’t let anyone else in,” Rick commands.

“Got it, Bossman, y’all go get ready and find our idiots,” Coretta lights a cigarette to cover her unease. She’s pissed about the situation but she don’t like the idea of any of their group going into this mess.

Daryl looks over her carefully as Rick walks off, “It’s gonna be fine, woman, stop that shakin’.”

Coretta glares at him and takes a drag, her hands are barely shaking, “I ain’t shakin’, Dixon. Ya best not be late gettin’ back, Feelin’ like it’s gonna be a ‘shine night after this.”

Daryl quirks an eyebrow, “Thought ya don’t share that shit.”

“I’ll make an exception, provided ya come back in one piece,” Coretta concedes.

Keston comes creeping down the stairs and is all wide eyed as he looks at Daryl, “Ya goin’ ta get Maggie and Glenn?”

“Yeah, little man, we are,” Daryl rumbles.

Keston wrinkles his shirt in his hands for a second before launching himself at Daryl and hugging him around the legs, “Please don’t leave forever too.”

Coretta twitches at the way Keston words that plea. Knows her baby is thinking of Wade and everyone else he’s met that’s gone forever. Daryl don’t seem to know how to react to the small child’s hug or his words, just pries him gently off his legs and mutters gruffly, “Ain’t goin’ nowhere, don’t give yer momma any hell while she’s runnin’ the place, ya hear?”

Keston sniffles and bobs his head, “I’ll be good.”

Daryl nods a bit to the boy before looking back at her, “Stop worryin’ over me, ain’t worth it.”

Coretta shakes her head and calls softly to him as he starts to walk away, “Bullshit, Dixon.”

She swears his steps falter a bit, but chalks it up to her imagination. She takes a drag and watches through half-lidded eyes as the little rescue team leaves, Molotov cocktails in hand. She hates bein’ left behind like this, would prefer to go too. Raisin’ hell is something she ain’t bad at.

Still, gives her time to make more shit, in case their new neighbors don’t take kindly to their group’s little party crashing. She’s thinking they need one of those big ass slingshots that takes three people to use and a pile of walker heads. Hopefully, Rick won’t mind. It’s for security’s sake after all. Flaming, flying walker heads are what she would call good deterrent. Of course, she does recognize that as a bit sick, but the whole damn world is fucked. So, might as well go balls to the damn wall with fucked up security measures. Worst comes to worse, she’ll just replace walker heads with Molotov cocktails.

Coretta ain’t dumb enough to think Rick will go for it, man has too many opinions and hang ups. Still, she plans it out, because it’s something to keep her mind off the sound of the cars driving away. She’s in charge of four kids, a baby, Beth, Hershel, and Carol. Oh, and Axel but the man pretty much lives in the controls room. So she don’t count him. At least, it’s only the kids that need supervision. Since Carl keeps disappearing and Keston is so young. Judith basically lives in Beth’s arms.

Coretta spends the afternoon cleaning every gun the guys didn’t take and teaching Mason and Sophia how to as well. She’s offered to teach Carl, but he’s all pissy and grieving Lori and about bit her damn head off. Coretta ain’t in the habit of bothering with little shits that ain’t her kids, so she lets him mope around and pace the cellblock all creepy and shit with that handgun Rick lets him carry around. She don’t disapprove of that, considering Mason carries his child-sized compound bow and Carol has Sophia keeping a knife on her at all times. Keston has a slingshot now that Glenn found for him until he’s big enough to take the child-sized compound bow. She’s planning to find a larger one for Mason when he’s big enough to handle the draw.

Carol ends up taking Carl out to kill walkers on the fence to keep him from climbing the damn walls. Coretta has a feeling Carol is as unhappy being left behind as she is. Still, there’s nothing to be done for it. Coretta just focuses on the things that need doing. Teaching the kids how to clean and take guns apart safely is one of those things. That goes on until she’s satisfied they’ll remember how, then sends them off to clean their cells. Coretta goes to check the food stores and immediately a headache starts up. There’s four fucking strangers looking around their food area like it’s the promised land while keeping their eyes on Carl who has a gun on them. Along with a bitch that’s clearly on death’s door.

Coretta taps her fingers against the bars, “Ain’t anyone ever teach y’all it’s impolite ta just walk in ta a stranger’s house? These days, might get ya shot.”

Carl twitches at her voice, but doesn’t turn around, “I just found them, I don’t know how they got in.”

“Well, I’m sure they’d be happy ta tell us that, once they’ve given us their weapons, of course,” Coretta smiles beautifully at the biggest man with wide, kinda scared, kinda hopeful eyes.

“We don’t have anything, okay? We just came in through a hole in the wall, we were trying to get away from those things,” he talks fast and keeps his eyes on Carl and the gun.

“Ya ain’t even got a pocketknife? Liar, liar. Makes me wanna let the kid use ya as target practice,” She purrs, pretending to be meaner than she feels.

“I’m not lying. I swear. We were just trying to find a safe place. Donna got bit though and—“

“Best put her down then. Ain’t interested in havin’ the soon-ta-be corpse in our house. Y’all do it or I will,” Coretta warms.

“She hasn’t died yet! You can’t!” The boy, an older teenager looks distraught.

“Carl? Go in the cellblock, let everyone know what’s happening,” Coretta orders and fingers the key ring Rick left her.

Carl makes a noise like a pissed off toad or something, “But, Coretta—“

“Now, boy. Don’t make me say it again,” She snaps. Carl hesitates but eventually runs off and leaves her alone with the strangers.

“Ma’am, I promise, we didn’t know this place was taken, we were just trying to get away from the dead,” the pretty black woman says.

“Y’know now. I’ll let y’all stay the night, bury her when she dies. Then you leave. All of y’all. And y’all will stay here, in this room, under constant supervision. I suggest y’all be on y’all’s best fuckin’ behavior or y’all gonna have more worries than the Walkers. If y’all don’t like that, speak now or forever hold yer peace,” Coretta don’t like intruders, but she ain’t gonna send them out this close to sunset. Ain’t that coldhearted yet. Still, she backs up as she speaks and follows Carl out. Locking them out of the cellblock before she’s done speaking.

Tyreese, Sasha, Allen, Ben, Donna. Donna is gonna die. Coretta don’t mind the rest freaking out over being locked out of the cellblock. As if they’d be welcome in their home. Let them panic. Hershel takes over dealing with them. Probably for the best considering Carl wants to shoot them and Coretta wants to bash the dying lady’s head in with a rock. She refrains from that though. Let’s Hershel and Carol play the role of the nice people. Carol has a tight smile on her face the whole time and Coretta suspect’s she’d poison them if she thought they were a threat. They want to stay, for good. Coretta raises an eyebrow at that, and at Hershel’s response. Rick would have the final word on the matter. And Rick’s barely holding his shit together. Coretta don’t think there’s any way to predict how the hell this is going to go over with the man. But if she had to guess, not well would be her answer.

Chapter Text

The others don’t return until late the next morning. Coretta keeps an eye on their guests the whole time, though it’s Hershel that points out a good place for them to bury their dead friend. The kids eye the strangers like they’re a damn zoo exhibit and Coretta has to get onto Mason twice for running his mouth at them. Ain’t no need for that shit today. Coretta knows the Tyreese guy is planning on pleading their case to Rick and Coretta wonders if she should warn him that Rick’s batshit insane half the time since his wife died. Really only seems to get his shit together on an as needed basis. Hopefully, he’s gonna have his shit together when he gets back. If they’re starting shit with Woodbury, they’re gonna need numbers. As much as she don’t like newcomers, the more bodies to throw at the problem the better if Woodbury decides retaliation is the way to fuckin’ go.

Rick does not, in fact, have his shit together when the rescue team pulls up with a battered Glenn and Maggie in tow and no Daryl. Coretta lights a cigarette as Rick ignores their guests entirely at first. Just walks right by them to the cellblock. Coretta don’t like the fact everyone seems pissed off as they come in and there’s no fuckin’ Dixon. Makes her wanna demand answers. Glenn looks like he’s got half a mind to commit murder, a far cry from his normally easygoing nature. Maggie is just silent.

The story comes out slowly. Angrily. Daryl’s fuckin’ brother kidnapped the pair. Helped torture them. The group managed to get them out, lost Daryl. Oscar died. They went back for Daryl. Daryl and his fuckin’ brother and some other fucker got out on their own. Glenn raises enough hell over Merle and the other Fucker coming back that Rick weren’t gonna bring ‘em and Daryl stood by his brother and left. Coretta just keeps smoking when Rick turns to her, “He said you and the boys will be fine without him around.”

Coretta blows smoke and instead of responding to that, says, “Y’all just started a fuckin’ war, Bossman. We needed bodies. Now we’re down Oscar and Daryl. Merle and whoever this other fucker was coulda been useful. Next time, tell Glenn ta swallow his rage so we don’t get fucked on account of his fuckin’ feelings.”

Rick looks disapproving at her, “You never knew Merle, he wasn’t a good man. And the other guy who helped them? Total stranger. Some guy named Claire.”

Coretta twitches, “Claire? Like his last name or first?”

“Last name. Didn’t give his first,” Rick sounds annoyed.

“What’d he look like?” Coretta has a feeling she’s about to murder someone. She’s already pissed off and exhausted at the thought that Daryl just fuckin’ left, but if it’s who she thinks it is, she may damn well kill somebody.

“Blue eyes, kinda dirty blonde hair, needs a good shower, real skinny, real tall, why?”

“That’s Jesse, ya fuckin’ idiot. My goddamn brother. My maiden name is Claire. Did he know me and the boys were fuckin’ here?” Coretta glares up at the man.

“No, we didn’t mention you when he was listening. Coretta, I didn’t know, I swear, but he was one of the Governor’s men, he and Merle were hunting Michonne. He—“

“Is my damn brother. Yer a dumbfuck, he can make bombs and shit, ya realize how useful that could be if Woodbury decides they don’t fuckin’ appreciate our little visit?” Coretta snarls it.

“If that happens, we’ll handle it. We’ll be fine,” Rick sounds like he’s trying to convince himself.

“We ain’t got the numbers. We ain’t got the ammo. We ain’t got shit. Yer supposed ta be the damn leader, not Glenn’s fuckin’ feelings. Think for a damn second. It mighta been distasteful, but we needed bodies more than we needed people fuckin’ happy,” Coretta hisses, restraining herself from cussing him out for her brother being so close and so fuckin’ out of reach. She ain’t sure how he ended up here, but he’d know what happened to Wade and he’s her fucking blood. If it weren’t for the boys, she’d already be out the damn door looking for the bastard. All three of the damn bastards since apparently her brother and Daryl’s have buddied up.

Rick gives her a look as Glenn comes over, “Enough, Coretta.”

She curls her lip in disgust and puts out her cigarette, “Fucked up, Grimes. All I gotta say on the matter.”

Mason and Keston immediately converge on her when she walks away, Mason gets right to the point, “Where’s Daryl?”

“Not here.”

“Why? He die? He get caught? Where’s Daryl?” Mason sounds like he’s ready to fight someone over this. Kid is weird about Daryl, like he can’t make up his mind for long over his opinion of the man. He don’t like that he ain’t around though. That much is clear.

“No. They found his brother and Uncle Jesse. Wouldn’t let them come back with them. So Daryl left with his brother,” Coretta won’t beat around the bush. Her boys understand choosing family first. Much as this is gonna hurt them, they’ll understand best this reason for Daryl leaving. She is still fuckin’ pissed. About Jesse and Daryl. Hurt over Daryl too, not that she has any claim to the man. He’s grown and can make his own damn decisions and she ain’t got no reason to think she’d be a factor in it at all.

Still, she’s hurt and watching her babies’ faces crumble before Mason looks furious makes it worse. Before she can stop him, Mason is running over to Rick and Glenn and cussing them out. Loud and long and more creatively than a nine year old should be fuckin’ able to. She don’t interfere. He ain’t kicking or hitting or trying to shoot anyone. If the adults can’t handle a kid telling them they fucked up, ain’t her issue.

Her issue is Keston crying in front of her, she picks him up with a small grunt, boy is getting heavy, and tries to sooth him, “Hush, sweetheart, If it’d been you and Mason, y’all’d’ve done the exact same thing. It’s what brothers do.”

“He said he weren’t gonna leave, Momma, he said!” Keston’s big brown eyes are filled with tears and his bottom lip is quivering.

“I know, I know. He shouldn’t’ve promised that. Ain’t no one able ta predict the future,” Coretta may shoot the redneck with her fuckin’ bow for this if she sees him again.

Mason runs by them and up the stairs, red faced and furious. Rick is screaming like a lunatic at the guests to get out. She thinks that’s a fuckin’ mistake, but she ain’t interested in throwing that out there while the man is waving a fuckin’ gun around. She ain’t in the mood for more bullshit. She’s got her boys to focus on. Best not to think of the bullshit that’s happened outside the prison. Jesse is still gone. That ain’t changed. Daryl fuckin’ left. That stings something awful, but she ain’t gonna let anyone see that shit. And they’re probably gonna end up fighting a losing war with Woodbury. Coretta is gonna focus on her boys for now. Worry ‘bout the rest when she has to. Ain’t like anybody fuckin’ listens to her anyway.

Chapter Text

Coretta ignores everyone but her boys and Carol while she works out how to prepare for the possibility of Woodbury retaliating. She counts out every round on ammo they have. Enough for a quick fire fight, but not a drawn out one. Enough for quick and quiet if they wanna pick Woodbury’s people off one by one. They have the riot gear. She can make more Molotov cocktails. If Jesse were here, she could have him making napalm. But that ain’t a fuckin’ option. So she paces the prison grounds and works out ideas. The fence keeps Walkers out. But it won’t keep out bullets. Coretta’s eyes flick over the trees, lots of cover there for people to hide behind. She ain’t stupid. This shit is gonna get nasty if war happens. They need weapons. Ammo. Coretta has an idea but she needs people with her.

Her old trailer park, a long drive, but Crazy Gavin was a nutcase who was a fuckin’ doomsday prepper. Only reason the man and his family lived in a damn trailer park was ‘cause he spent all their money on shit for the end times. She knows curtesy of his kid she babysat from time to time exactly where his locked up stash of shit was. She also knows that for all his preparation, she saw the whole damn family walkin’ ‘round dead as doornails the night she and the boys went to the shack. She figures it’s be a five hour round trip if they work fast. Ain’t like anyone else knew where Crazy Gavin’s shit was stored. She wasn’t even supposed to know.

She can’t take Glenn or Maggie. They need to stay here, recover and shit. Rick is a nutcase. She don’t trust Michonne yet. Hershel’s got one leg. Beth ain’t much of a fighter. She ain’t gonna be in a damn car with Axel for long. He’s a fuckin’ flirt and it’s irritating. At least he seems to have focused on Carol and she don’t seem to mind. She won’t take a kid with her. Daryl ain’t around. As it stands, it’s just her. She ain’t keen on doin’ the run alone, but she may have to.

With a muttered curse, she turns away from watching the trees and goes to find Rick and know about her idea. Since she ain’t asking, she’s telling. One way or another, she’s gettin’ to Crazy Gavin’s stash. She ain’t sure why she didn’t think of it sooner. She don’t find him, so she starts getting her truck ready for a run, so he can’t bitch when she tells him. She’s got one of the rifle with a twenty round magazine in her hands and ready to load it up when the gunshot sounds.

Coretta curses as gunshots fill the air and takes off towards the sounds, flicking the safety off the rifle at the same time. She ain’t sure what the fuck is going on, but she sets up behind a concrete wall and hunts through her scope for a target. Ain’t hard. There’s a fuckin’ truck out in the distance, but she don’t focus on that. There’s some guy out in the cover of the trees that’s popping off shots at Rick. Coretta bares her teeth a little as she focuses and the gunfire keeps going. She don’t let herself think before pulling the trigger. Misses by a hair, so close she can see the man jerk to the side. Tries again, and her heart pounds out of her chest when she sees blood spray outta the guy’s arm. Fuck him. She wants a kill shot. She pauses to adjust the scope, it ain’t quite the right distance for what the scope is at right now.

Then a truck rams through the gate and there’s unpleasant silence as everyone watches it stop in the field. Then it opens and Walkers start pouring out. Shit. Fuck that. Coretta has to readjust her scope again for the new mess. She focuses on the driver of the truck who’s hauling ass away. She swallows her bile when her bullet tears through the person’s neck from behind. She’s cold despite the Georgia heat as she watches the body fall. More gunshots are filling the air as Coretta is muttering curses as she tries to pick the Walkers off.

Things go quiet as quickly as they started and she hears an irritatingly familiar voice yell out, “Baby ‘Retta! That you back there?!”

Coretta stands up warily, gun held in her hand and steps out. So the idiots have returned. Daryl has his crossbow and he’s by Rick. The man she assumes is Merle is a bit further back, and there’s Jesse. Big wild grin on his face and holding his rifle in the air like an idiot as he spots her. Despite her shaking hands, she manages to get a cigarette to her mouth and lit before calling back, “Fuckin’ hate that name! Get yer ass inside ‘fore I use ya as target practice!”

Jesse don’t need another invitation. He starts popping off shots at the Walkers as he makes his way up into the prison towards her like he’s always lived here. He looks better than she remembers. Dirty, like Rick said, but his eyes are clear and he’s put on some of the weight he’d lost over the years. When he reaches her, way ahead of Rick and Daryl and Merle, she sets her gun against the wall a second before he grabs her into a bone-crushing hug and spinning her around. He sets her down and grabs her head between both his huge hands and kisses her soundly on the crown of her head, “Thought y’were dead, ‘Retta. Looked for ya, really fuckin’ did, couldn’t find ya. The boys alright?”

“They’re fine. Ya clean?” Coretta don’t think he’s looked this good in years. Not since Hunter died for damn sure.

“Hell yeah. Ain’t touched the shit in months. World endin’ makes it a bit hard,” He grins like a loon, “Where the boys? Fuckin’ missed the little shits.”

“They’re inside,” Coretta narrows her eyes as the others approach. She ain’t thrilled to see Daryl right now and Rick don’t look like he’s keeping a level head.

“Coretta! Everyone inside now! We need to plan,” Rick snaps out.

“Sure thing, Bossman. But, I’m goin’ on a run today,” Coretta’s getting to that stash, come hell or high water.

Rick looks furious, “No one is leaving!”

“I am! We need ammo! Guns! I know where some are! I’m fuckin’ goin’ after this little meetin’ ends!” She snarls back, “I ain’t askin’. I’ll even take Jesse if it’ll keep Glenn from havin’ a bitch fit.”

“Where ya goin’?” Daryl asks quietly, not making eye contact with her.

“My old neighborhood. There’s a nice, big stash of shit near there. Ain’t no one left that knows where it is but me, damn near impossible ta find if ya don’t know where it is,” Coretta answers with a slight sneer in his direction. Now that he’s back, she can be pissed as hell at him.

“No, Coretta. No one leaves,” Rick orders.

“Stop me,” She glares fiercely at the man. They need this. They need this bad. She ain’t gonna back down on this.

“Sugartits, I’m not sure who ya are aside from Claire’s baby sister, but the Governor’s gonna have people watchin’ every road outta here, ya ain’t gonna make it five miles,” the guy with one hand, Merle, sounds amused though.

Jesse scratches his neck, “Ya still got the truck?”

“Yes?” Coretta glances up at her brother’s face and takes a drag of her cigarette.She knows that tone. That his real calm tone she only hears when there’s a fuckin’ mess and he don’t like it, but he’s got a fuckin’ solution.

“It got gas?”

“Full tank,” Coretta confirms.

“We can do it. Gonna need two more people though,” He shrugs, “Need ta go now. If we wanna get in an’ out without the Governor’s people catchin’ us.”

Coretta looks over at Rick, “Who can we spare?”

“No one, because no one is going!” Rick looks furious.

Jesse glances over at Merle, “Might be a nice little way ta get in good with the group, come bearin’ gifts an’ all that shit, ya in?”

Merle rubs his chin and eyes her brother before eyeing Rick, “Gonna need weapons, Officer Friendly.”

“Merle, we just got fuckin’ back,” Daryl snarls out, “Ain’t worth it.”

“‘Retta, Get the truck ready, I’ll meet ya out there,” Jesse smiles brilliantly at her. She knows that smile means he’s made a decision and will happily fight God over it.

Coretta shrugs and turns towards the truck, “Tell my boys I’ll be back later, Bossman, and not ta kill no one.”

“Coretta! No! We aren’t doing this today!” Rick hollers after her, but she can hear Jesse’s voice drop real low as he intercedes. She knows from experience he’s trying to make something up to her by helping with this. She supposes he’ll tell her on the run.

Coretta is checking the truck tires when Jesse appears, “Keys, ‘Retta. Ya can’t drive for shit. Those boys of yers probably got permanent whiplash if yer drivin’ them ‘round.”

Coretta tosses him the keys and snarks back, “Yer the idiot that taught me ta drive.”

“Clearly, I was higher than balls when I did,” Jesse gets the truck started as she slides in the passenger seat.

The back doors open and Coretta narrows her eyes as Merle and Daryl both slide in the back, Merle gives her a lazy, lecherous grin, “What’s wrong, Sweet stuff? Thought ya wanted some company.”

Coretta just sneers at him, “Ain’t nothin’ wrong, y’all just slow as shit. I’d like ta get there before I’m dead, if that works for ya.”

Daryl narrows his eyes at her but she turns back around in her seat and puts her feet on the dash before he can respond. She ain’t fuckin’ talkin’ to the damn deserter. Fuck that. She’s got her bow and arrows in the floor board and a cig dangling from her mouth and she’s content to let her brother get them where they need to go. She ain’t gotta talk to the men in the backseat past what’s necessary.

“Works just fine for me, darlin’, I’d hate ta see such a pretty thang like ya all dead an’ shit. Be a damn shame that,” Merle sounds like he’s tryin’ to flirt.

Jesse snaps real quick as he puts the truck in drive and turns them towards the broken gate of the prison, “Fuck off, Dixon, ya ain’t gettin’ near my baby sister’s pants. I’ll cut yer other hand off.”

“Merle, shut up,” Daryl mutters real low.

“Merle, Ya seem like a real fun guy, but I’ve heard the damn stories. I ain’t interested in gettin’ super-clap,” Coretta drawls and takes a drag of her cigarette.

Merle barks a loud laugh, “Yer a mean bitch, Ol’ Merle can appreciate that. I ain’t got shit, no worries there.”

“Ya also ain’t shit,” Coretta doesn’t skip a beat as she watches as Jesse hops the truck off the road and starts cutting through the trees. Man never did care much about roads.

Jesse snickers, “‘Retta, how ya ever got married is a fuckin’ mystery ta me. Pass me a damn cig, I know ya probably got a whole hoard of the things.”

Coretta blows smoke towards him, “Ask nicely, I know ya got better manners than that.”

Jesse keeps his eyes on his driving, but curls his lip at her, “Alright, please gimme a damn cig or I’ll drive this truck full speed in ta a damn tree just ta spite ya.”

Coretta laughs but doesn’t call his bluff, just digs her pack out for him and hands him one, before digging her lighter out and lighting it for him, “Ain’t no need for threats.”

“Hey, Darlin’, think ya can spare another?” Merle cajoles.

Coretta tucks her cigs and light away and takes another drag, “No. family only.”

She ignores the uncomfortable shifting Daryl makes at that, and just settles in for the trip. Ain’t no reason to be sharing with either Dixon. She don’t know Merle and Daryl left. She ain’t got what she would call a forgiving nature. Ain’t got time for Dixon bullshit. They’re useful. That’s fuckin’ all.

Chapter Text

Coretta chain smokes as they get closer to home. So does Jesse. Daryl is silent and even Merle shuts up after awhile. The familiar streets are silent and aside from abandoned cars and the occasional Walker, there’s nothing on them. A ghost town. Coretta sighs out smoke as Jesse turns the truck onto the narrow road that leads out to the trailer park. She stares out the window and doesn’t react when she sees the Walker that was Old lady Margie walk by. It ain’t the old bat anymore. It’s just a corpse that ain’t realized it’s dead. She tenses up a bit when the first trailers come into view. She remembers the people who lived in both. The yellow trailer was a trio of sisters who liked partying. The big white one was an old man that would shoot any dog if it came onto his property.

“Where am I goin’, ‘Retta?” Jesse’s voice is unusually soft as he asks.

“Down my street. All the way ta the end,” Coretta don’t know how to feel about being back here. She ain’t eager to see her home. She’d loved that trailer as shitty as it was. It was home. Where her boys took their first steps and said their first words. Where she and her friends would have movie nights while Wade was out of town. Being back is a strange, hollowing feeling.

“So, Darlin’, which was yers?” Merle pipes up.

Coretta turns her head to look out at the right side of the street for a moment and points, “That one, the blue one with ugly ass shed beside it.”

It looks awful now. The paint is chipped and peeling and faded since she and Wade ain’t been here to fix it up. There’s blood stains on the wall and the windows are broken. Her home, the one Wade had been so proud to show her, looks only a little better than her shack did. The door is still closed though. She guesses that lock Wade got was stronger than she thought it was.

“Ain’t the shittiest place I’ve seen,” Merle muses.

“Looked better before,” is all she has to say back before looking at Jesse, “There’s a dirt road at the very end of the street on the left, turn on ta it.”

“Who’s shit are we stealin’?” Jesse responds.

“Crazy Gavin’s.”

“Who the fuck is Crazy Gavin?” Merle sounds irritated, “Bitch, ya best not be takin’ us ta get killed.”

“He was a doomsday prepper. Whole family’re Walkers now. Ain’t no one left ta kill us,” Coretta lights another cigarette.

“Ain’t he the fucker that used ta scream ‘bout the end times at, like, three in the fuckin’ mornin’?” Jesse’s voice is incredulous, “That Gavin?”

“Sure is. Only reason I know where his stash is, is ‘cause I babysat his kid once and the kid showed it off ta me,” Coretta nods. That kid was as weird as his dad. She remembers that pretty damn well. Who knew Crazy Gavin was right in the end?

“How far we goin’ up this road?” Jesse glances at her as he turns onto the dirt road.

“Not far, there’s a trailer up here he bought as a disguise for his stash,” Coretta explains. Man was batshit insane, and wasted money on preparing for the apocalypse, but he was smart about it. She’ll give him that. Even if he wasn’t smart enough to get to implement the whole thing.

“How much shit is in this thing?” Daryl finally speaks.

“See for yerself,” Coretta drawls coolly and points at the shittiest looking trailer she’s ever seen as Jesse pulls up to it.

Coretta narrows her eyes at the building and hops outta the truck. Don’t look any different than she remembers. Which is a good fuckin’ sign that shit is still where it should be. She grabs her bow and quiver and strolls over to it. Ignoring Jesse hissing at her to stay with him. She circles around to the back of the building and puts an arrow through the head of a Walker that looks vaguely like Crazy Gavin’s son. She tries not to think about that and starts picking the first of eight lock the man put on the back door of the trailer. The front door is nailed shut. This is the only way to the stash.

Coretta is on the fourth lock when the guys finally get around to joining her, she don’t so much as glance at them as she works. Jesse leans against the wall and spins a knife in his hand as he watches her. She ignores Merle’s comments about her ass and Daryl’s voice snarling at Merle to shut the fuck up somewhere behind her. Just keeps working away at the locks, calm as can be.

The last lock pops open and she straightens up, cracking her spine as she does. She pushes the door open and walks into the empty fuckin’ house without pausing and starts pacing. Trying to find the right spot in the carpet for what she’s looking for. She bounces her weight a bit every few feet, looking for right place.

“I ain’t seein’ shit in here, sweet cheeks, sure ya weren’t high?” Merle questions. He sounds pissed.

Coretta finds the spot and steps back. She kneels down and works her fingers into the nasty carpet. Gets a good grip and pulls. There’s a second where she can’t get the trapdoor up, before it comes up and she pulls it all the way back with a quiet grunt of effort, “Here, should all be down there.”

Daryl shines a flashlight into the hole, “How the hell we supposed ta get down?”

“Jump, there’s a ladder in there ta climb back out. I think,” Coretta can’t actually remember that part. She hopes there’s a ladder.

Jesse mutters a few cuss words and points at her as he steps towards the hole, “I’mma beat yer ass if I end up stuck in a damn hole.”

“Can’t if yer stuck in a hole,” she retorts, “Now jump.”

“‘Jump,’ she says, like I ain’t doin’ that shit already. Ain’t seen me for nearly a fuckin’ year and she’s already bein’ a bossy bitch,” Jesse is muttering to himself as he jumps down into the hole.

“There a ladder?” Coretta calls down.

“Fuck, Gimme a second, lemme look,” Jesse yells back.

There’s a clattering sound and after a moment, and a lot of cursing, Jesse reappear’s in the flashlight beam with a ladder that doesn’t quite reach the top. He calls back, “Crazy Gavin was a fuckin’ hoarder! There’s a fuckton of crap down here!”

“Told ya!” Coretta laughs.

“Right! Dixon one and two, get y’all’s asses down here and help! Coretta, keep watch!” Jesse orders.

Coretta goes and stands by the door as the guys work to bring everything out of the hidden basement. Jesse is right. There is a lot. They bring out the weapons first. Lots of guns. AR’s and high capacity magazines. A couple handguns a few shot guns. Crazy Gavin had a real hard on for guns. The ammo comes out next. Enough rounds to survive three Woodbury’s. They load it all up then start grabbing everything else that can fit. Cans of gas and a pair of generators. Some more canned food and those MRE things. If they can fit it in the truck bed, they take it.

She ignores the fact Jesse is grabbing batteries and wires too. She knows from experience what he’s planning for those. She ignores him grabbing different soaps too. Napalm most likely with that. Gas and a couple types of soap mixed together and that’s all it takes. She just don’t know the right recipes for it. If he’s planning on bombing the Governor, she ain’t gonna complain.

“Think that’s all that’ll fit,” she observes as Merle shoves one last gas can into the bed.

“Looks like, Sweet cheeks,” He grins and adjusts the giant fuckin’ blade on his arm stump.

“Not yet, gotta make one more stop then we can go,” Jesse sounds extremely reluctant.

“Where?” Daryl asks sharply.

“‘Retta’s place,” Jesse sounds like he’s expecting her to shoot him in the face right then.

As it is, she cocks her head a bit, “What in the hell could ya possibly need outta my fuckin’ house?”

“There’s a handgun with a nearly full magazine,” Jesse makes an apologetic face, “Forgot it here when I came lookin’ for y’all with Wade.”

Coretta stares at him, “What did happen to my husband?”

“I’ll tell ya on the way back, alright? Promise,” Jesse sounds like he don’t wanna tell her at all as he climbs into the driver’s seat.

Coretta lights a cigarette and climbs into her seat. The Dixon’s have gone unusually quiet behind them as Jesse puts the truck in drive and turns them around, “Why ain’t ya tellin’ me now?”

“Ain’t a good idea,” he ‘bout spits it out.

“He dead, ain’t he? Or he’d be with ya,” Coretta takes a drag and watches him expectantly.

Jesse’s hands clench and unclench around her steering wheel, “Yeah, yeah he’s dead. Got bit on the shoulder.”

Coretta swallows a bit, “Did ya put him down?”

Jesse doesn’t answer, just drives down the street to her trailer and parks, “Stay in the truck, ‘Retta, it’ll only be a second.”

Coretta immediately reaches for the door handle and Jesse reaches across her instantly to hold the door closed, “Stay in the fuckin’ truck.”

“Why?” She snarls back.

“Ya don’t need ta go in. Ain’t nothin’ left for ya in there,” He sounds pissed and pleading all at once.

“Let go of my fuckin’ door,” Coretta can feel the blood roaring in her ears as she starts connecting dots, “Is he in there?”

Jesse makes a face like he wants to deny it. Doesn’t say anything though or let go of her door handle.

“Is he a Walker?” Coretta snarls it.

“I don’t know,” is all he gets out.

“What the fuck do ya mean ya don’t know?” She can feel her heart pounding out of her chest.

“He got bit, told me ta go find y’all without him, kept a handgun for when he was ready ta go. I dunno if he actually did it or not,” Jesse says it all fast, like the faster he says it the easier it is.

“Alright, let go of my door,” Coretta gets a strange sense of calm, “My house, My husband, I’ll get the damn gun.”

“Ya don’t need ta see that,” Jesse sounds like he wants to stop her, but his hand lets go of her door. Coretta’s grabbing her bow and arrows without a second thought and jumping outta the truck.

She ignores the sound of a different truck door opening and slips through the chain link gate and walks around to the back door. She and Wade never really used the front door. No real reason for it, just never did. Ain’t sure why. The backdoor is unlocked and she slips inside, bow at the ready. She glances over her shoulder to see who followed her as she steps in side. Daryl. Crossbow ready to fire. She eyes him but turns back and steps inside her home for the first time in months.

Coretta looks around quietly. It’s still clean. In need of a good dusting, and there’s a few open beers and an empty pack of cigarettes by a full ashtray on her coffee table, but it’s clean. Like she just left for awhile. Like she didn’t abandon the place. Her eyes drift over the photos of her kids and her and Wade. There’s dried, long dead flowers in a vase on the tiny kitchen table. A few half empty bottles of whisky on top of the fridge. Dog toys by the couch. No Wade.

Then there’s a noise from her bedroom. The unpleasant noise of a Walker groaning and slamming against the door. Coretta makes a low noise in her throat. So he didn’t put himself down. Didn’t commit suicide. Just drank and smoked until the clock ran out. Coretta thinks she hates him a little for that. For leaving it to her to do this. She thinks she hates him a lot for it actually.

She stares at that door for a moment. Watches the shadow of a person move under it. She don’t wanna open that door at all. That’s where the gun is though. And Jesse wants the stupid fuckin’ gun. She walks towards it just as Daryl starts to take over. She leans the bow against the wall and pulls her knife out. Daryl is close to her and she can see out of the corner of her eye that his crossbow is raised. She knows if she can’t do it, he will. It’s oddly comforting. Her hand is oddly steady as it closes around the door knob.

She doesn’t think before shoving the door open and doesn’t think as the Walker that was her Husband groans and reaches for her. Just shoves her knife into his head as fast as she can. Ends up just staring down the body and listening to the roaring in her fuckin’ ears for awhile. She doesn’t cry though. She’s already grieved the man. Already let him go. This is just the closing of that chapter. Just once last moment of letting go. She steps over the body of the Walker, because that’s what it is, a Walker, not Wade, just a fuckin’ Walker. She grabs the fuckin’ handgun off the bed and steps out just as quickly, running into Daryl’s chest as she does.

His hand falls to her shoulder to steady her, “Coretta?”

She shakes him off and grabs her weapons off the floor and out of the walker’s head, “It’s fine. We need to get back.”

“Could bury him real quick,” he offers.

“Don’t have time. Don’t have shovels. Need ta go now,” She doesn’t want that. Doesn’t want to dig a grave in the yard her kids used to play in.

Daryl hesitates a moment before nodding, “Alright. Anything else ya wanna grab?”

Coretta shakes her head and steps over to the gas stove, and turns on the gas, “No, lets go.”

“What are ya doin’?” Daryl eyes the stove.

“Wade wanted ta be cremated and ain’t no reason not ta honor that,” Coretta explains as she grabs one of the whisky bottles on her way out of the house, Daryl behind her.

It ain’t hard to walk back to the truck and climb in, ain’t hard to tell Jesse what she wants. Ain’t hard to watch him set that gas filled trailer on fire from a safe distance away. Ain’t hard to watch from the side view mirror as the house burns and attracts every walker near by. Ain’t hard to take her necklace off, with her wedding ring still on it, and drop it out the window when she tosses out another cigarette butt. Ain’t hard at all, just exhausting. She don’t say a word the entire drive back to the prison. Just watches the trees and houses and walkers go by as Jesse drives like a fuckin’ Nutjob. Sooner they’re back, the better. They got a governor to tell to fuck off.

Chapter Text

They get back late, nearly midnight, and if it weren’t for Maggie sitting up in the watch tower they’d be sleeping in the truck tonight. As it is, they get let in and Rick is waiting for them in the area they park all the cars. So are Coretta’s sons. Though Mason and Keston look like they’re fighting to stay awake. And Mason has his bow with an arrow nocked to it. If he shoots at them, she’s gonna tan his hide.

Jesse puts the truck in park and hops out, “I believe y’all ordered some firepower?”

Rick goes and looks in the truck bed as everyone else gets out of the car, “Was this everything?”

“Every round of ammo and every weapon, couldn’t fit all the other shit though, took what we could,” Daryl says.

Rick hums a little, “I’m takin’ Michonne and Carl with me on a run tomorrow, try to find even more. Merle and Jesse are staying in D-block for now. Until things settle down.”

Jesse snorts, “There a mattress?”

“Yes,” Rick sounds annoyed.

“Sounds fuckin’ good,” He turns to look at the others out and his eyes go wide at the sight of her boys, “Holy shit, y’all got fuckin’ big. When’d that happen?”

Mason glares at his uncle while the adults start unloading the truck, “Where the hell ya been? Momma said ya got lost.”

“Been ‘round, ya lil shit, tryin’ ta find y’all,” Jesse laughs and unloads a generator.

Keston narrows his eyes, “Uncle Jesse?”

“Hey Kes, ya even remember me?” Jesse grins down at the kid.

“I remember momma yellin’ at ya for wakin’ her up once,” Keston offers, “She called ya a broke ass dumb ass tweaker motherfucker.”

Coretta and Jesse wince as one while Daryl side eyes her, Rick starts coughing, and Merle busts out laughing. Coretta shoots her littlest son a warning look, “Keston, don’t be usin’ that language. I know Mason does, but that don’t mean ya should.”

“Okay, Momma,” Keston nods obediently and yawns.

“Shit, ‘Retta, I never thought I’d see y’all again. Never thought I’d see Kes make it this long, ya did good,” Jesse lowers his voice so only she can hear as they continue unloading the truck.

Coretta smiles tightly and nods, “We’ve gotten by.”

Mason notices Daryl about a second later and scowls at the man, “Why the hell ya back? Shoulda stayed gone!”

Coretta’s head whips around to look at her son, “Mason Evans, you shoot that arrow off and see what happens.”

Mason just glares even more fiercely when Daryl doesn’t say a word back, just chews his thumb and eyes the kids warily, “He ain’t even worth the fuckin’ arrow!”

Keston peaks around his brother and looks up at Daryl with big eyes, “Ya promised ya wouldn’t leave. Yer a liar.”

Daryl’s lips thin and Coretta has enough of her boys bothering the man, “It’s late, both y’all have said yer piece, go ta bed, now.”

“But, Momma—“ the boys start as one.

“No, bed, now,” Coretta snaps it.

The boys hesitate for a second then Jesse pipes up, “Y’all listen ta yer momma or I’ll tan both yer hides an’ yer gonna wish it were her doin’ it.”

That gets the boys hauling ass for the cellblock, though not without Mason giving Daryl one more filthy look. Jesse watches them run off until they get inside then looks at her, “Mason got a fuckin’ temper. He always been like that?”

“Gotten worse since this shit started,” Coretta admits and pulls a gun out of the truck bed.

“Those yer brats?” Merle is chuckling as he grabs a box full of ammo.

“Sure are. Pair of real angels, aren’t they?” Coretta grins ruefully.

“The hell got ‘em so pissy?”

“Life.” Coretta says simply. Not interested in giving Merle a way to give her or anyone else shit for her sons’ former hero worship of Daryl.

“Older one will shoot ya if he hears ya say the shit ya been sayin’ ta Coretta. He’s a mean one,” Daryl mumbles the warning to Merle.

“He shoots me, kid best kill me,” Merle snorts, entirely unconcerned by the small, furious nine year old with a bow and arrow.

Coretta narrows her eyes at the man, “Ya lay a hand on my kids, I’ll make ya wish ya were dead.”

Merle gives her a dangerous look, “Hell, sugartits, they shoot me, think I’m good and fuckin’ justified tannin’ their hides for ya.”

“No. Ya ain’t. They do that, I’ll deal with it. Far as yer concerned, they ain’t yer problem,” Coretta snaps and starts taking things inside.

Things get moved inside quick enough and Rick shows Merle and Jesse to D-block. That leaves things awkward as Coretta and Daryl walk in the same direction and up the stairs to their respective sleeping spots. Mason is standing in his and Keston’s cell door with Molly-dog beside him and glaring at the redneck, “Stay away from my momma. Ya ain’t welcome!”

Daryl just eyes him and settles into his perch. Coretta shakes her head and lights a cigarette, “Bed, Mason. Leave the man alone.”

Mason glares a little longer but turns and climbs up into the top bunk. Molly-dog jumps onto Keston’s bed and curls up beside the little boy. Coretta stands by the railing for awhile and blows smoke, the whisky bottle she took from her trailer in the other hand. She don’t offer Daryl a cigarette or a drink even when she can feel his eyes on her. Just drinks until the world has a pleasant haze to it and puts out her cigarette. She pauses at the door to her cell and looks over at the man. He’s awake and his eyes meet hers, one eyebrow raised expectantly.

She shifts a bit and says calmly, “Keston’ll forgive ya eventually. Mason might once he calms down.”

He makes a noise, “Don’t need their fuckin’ forgiveness. Ain’t my kids.”

Coretta laughs, “True enough. Don’t mean ya don’t want a little forgiveness though.”

She doesn’t wait for a reply. Just goes and collapses on her bunk. Sets the whisky on the floor and curls up into a tight ball on top of her blankets. Too tired to even take her shoes off. She’s still irritated at the man. Still kinda wants to yell at him. She just don’t care to tonight. Too much shit happened and too much shit is going to happen. She ain’t feeling inclined to drama of her own anytime soon. She feels more than sees Red jump onto the bunk with her. Whining softly as he licks her hands and flops down between her and the wall. Since Lucy died, he’s wanted to sleep in the bed more and Coretta ain’t had the heart to tell the coonhound no.

The next morning, Coretta wakes up with a hangover and there’s a picture of Wade holding Mason on his shoulders tucked between the bars of her cell, still in its frame. Coretta blinks dumbly as she looks at it and sighs. She supposes word got out about her meltdown over not having a picture of Wade for the boys. She didn’t even think to grab one at the trailer. She’ll have to thank Daryl, she supposes as she plays with the leather cuff bracelet he’d found for her before all this. Gonna have to give this to the boys. They need this more than her. She’s got damn near twenty years worth of memories of their father. Had grown up with him. They only got a few years. They need this picture more than she ever will. Hopefully this will be enough to keep Mason from murdering either Dixon. She ain’t sure what the policy is for murderous children in the group.

Chapter Text

Andrea shows up almost as soon as Rick, Michonne, and Carl return for their own run. Coretta keeps her boys close to her and Jesse saunters over and leans against the bars of the cellblock to stand near them. His eyes are narrowed and fixated on the blonde woman. That ain’t a friendly look. Jesse’s been making napalm since they got back and she can smell the chemicals on him. The whole group is in a defensive, tense half circle between Andrea and where they sleep. Even Hershel’s normally kind face is closed off.

Things have been tense already. Glenn keeps having fits over Jesse and Merle’s presence. Her boys have been potentially plotting to murder Daryl. Jesse’s bomb making is freaking people out and Merle is not exactly charming. At least Rick is putting his foot down whenever Glenn tries to get Jesse and Merle kicked out. Andrea appearing at their gates, when Michonne, Merle, and Jesse have all be open enough about telling everyone what Andrea’s been up to, has made things even worse. No one is offering the blonde smiles or hellos. Just narrow, wary gazes and arms crossed over chests. It doesn’t help that everyone is armed and has been since the Governor decided popping off shots was a good way to say hello.

Coretta listens quietly as the fellow blonde asks after Shane and Lori and T-dog. Watches her face as she tries to offer sympathy to everyone. Then she tries to go see the cellblock and Rick gets in her face. Makes it real clear the line in the sand has been drawn.

Andrea wants to negotiate. Wants them to not fight. Offers them places at Woodbury, that makes Jesse pipe up with a derisive snort, “I refuse ta believe the Governor’s been dickin’ ya down so well ya lost that many fuckin’ brain cells.”

Coretta wants a cigarette, but the baby is too close and she ain’t ‘bout to do that. Watching Andrea’s face get all offended is nice though. The woman splutters for a moment before snapping, “I don’t know who you think you are, Claire, but look around, this group? It’s lost enough already! If they fight, they’ll die!”

Daryl makes a noise, “It ain’t gonna be us in the damn ground.”

Jesse grins long and slow at Andrea, “Sweetheart, if I were ya, I’d find a new man, yers ain’t gonna be much use for yer needs for much longer.”

Andrea looks like she wants to hit Jesse, “The whole town is gearing up for war! They think you’re killers! They’re arming children!”

Coretta glances down at her sons. Mason has his bow and arrows, Keston has his slingshot. Mason can shoot a gun and Keston is going to start learning soon. Even still, she wouldn’t let Rick send them into a fight. Children might have to grow up fast now, but there’s a line.

Here, Hershel leans forward, “You say you want us to negotiate, has he said he does?”

“Well, no, but—“

“Then why come?” Glenn spits it out.

“Someone has to be the one to try,” Andrea sounds desperate.

“So the woman who’s just the Governor’s whore is gonna be it?” Jesse sounds like he’s having too much fun making sure everyone remembers Andrea is shacking up with the Governor.

“Momma? What’s a whore?” Keston glances up at Coretta curiously.

That makes Andrea zero in on Coretta, “You can’t think this is a good idea, Coretta, your sons—“

“Mention my sons again and I’ll break yer jaw,” Coretta snaps.

Andrea scoffs and looks around, “Really? I made it out of Atlanta with most of you people and this is how I’m being treated? But Claire and Merle— who helped kidnap and torture Glenn and Maggie— are welcome?”

“Seems ya made yer choice. Maybe that’s why,” Coretta drawls.

Andrea looks increasingly frustrated, “This isn’t the way! I want to help, I’m trying here!”

Rick works his jaw, “You want to help? get us inside.”

“No! There’s innocent people, Rick! I won’t do that, just please, sit down and meet with Phillip. Talk to him,” She pleads.

“Y’know that ain’t gonna work, Blondie,” Merle drawls and wipes his arm’s knife thing off with a rag.

“You don’t know that! I’m trying to save lives here,” Andrea turns back to Rick, but it’s Daryl who answers.

His voice is rough and irritated, “When ya see Phillip again, ya let him know I’m gonna take his other eye.”

Things just keep devolving from there. Andrea gets into it with Michonne and eventually people scatter, loosing interest in the blonde as the pair step outside to talk. She ain’t staying. Ain’t no one willing to let her stay and she’s got her psycho boyfriend to get back to anyway. Jesse retreats back to D-block and his work on his explosives. Coretta goes to check over weapons, make sure they’re all working as they should. Mason and Keston trail after her the whole time and she quizzes them over proper firearm care and safety. She needs them to know these things. The world don’t care anymore if they’re children or not, if something happens to her, she needs them to have a fighting chance. Needs them to be strong as they can be.

She ain’t expecting Merle to come swaggering in as she’s sending her boys off to help Carol with anything the woman needs doing. Carol does a little bit of everything and Coretta makes a point to have her kids help the woman where they can. Does them some good to help someone other than her and each other. She loads magazines with rounds and raises an eyebrow at him.

He don’t need more than that to start talking, “Heard through the grapevine ya told Officer Friendly not lettin’ ol’ Merle come ta the prison was real stupid.”

“My brother was with ya, ‘course I was gonna tell him he was bein’ fuckin’ stupid,” Coretta just keeps loading magazines.

“Coulda just argued for him, ya didn’t. Ya argued for everyone. What’s in it for ya, sweet cheeks?” He sounds irritated and amused all at once.

“Bodies. Manpower. Usefulness. Jesse makes bombs for fun. In my experience, y’all Dixons ain’t bad ta have ‘round in a tight spot. We gonna need that shit, simple as that,” She pauses and lights up a cigarette before returning to her task.

“So ya only want a couple more bodies ta throw at a problem? Ain’t got nothin’ ta do with my baby brother?” Merle sounds like he’s gauging her now.

“Ain’t sure what yer implyin’, gonna have ta get ta the point if yer gonna keep botherin’ me,” Coretta blows smoke out of the corner of her mouth.

“See, them kids of yers got me thinkin’ real hard. Seem awful upset he left for a pair of kids that ain’t his. Y’all been playin’ house?”

“Yer brother is a valued member of the group. Ain’t sure what else yer lookin’ ta hear,” Coretta counts out rounds for the next magazine.

“Now, may not seem like it, but my baby brother’s always been the sweet one, the type ta get attached ta people he ain’t got business gettin’ attached ta. Ya keepin’ up so far?” Merle puts one foot on the table and crosses his arms over his knee and leans towards her.

“Sure,” Coretta takes another drag and watches the older Dixon in boredom.

“That’s good, girlie, see, I don’t think gettin’ attached ta ya and those kiddies of yers is good for him. Real clear ya ain’t nothin’ but heartache waitin’ ta happen. I ain’t got nothin’ against ya, but I need ya and yer boys ta keep a nice, professional distance. My baby brother’s a Dixon, he ain’t need y’all slowin’ him down,” Merle sounds like he’s advising her as much as warning her.

“Yer baby brother is a grown man, Merle Dixon. Ya don’t want him ‘round us? Take it up with him. I don’t mind ya bein’ here, think ya could be a real good, useful member of the group if ya keep yer shit together, but ya ain’t my boss and I ain’t yer bitch. Try ta tell me what ta do again, and I promise ya, yer gonna lose that fight,” Coretta meets icy blue eyes steadily and blows smoke out lazily. She grew up with her Daddy, with Jesse, with Wade. Her daddy was the devil himself. Jesse and Wade both could be down right scary when they wanted to be. Ain’t a man left that could intimidate her. He’s gonna have to try harder if he wants to make her toe his line.

Merle narrows his eyes at her and she knows he’s passing whatever he fuckin’ counts as judgement on her, “listen, here, sweetheart—“

“No, thank ya. Ya said yer piece. I’ve listened. Either help me with what I’m doin’ or fuck off. Ya got military experience, right? Ya think we got any chance in hell of survivin’ this?” Coretta interrupts.

Merle seems startled by her interruption. Like he actually expected her to entertain his bullshit. Still, he rubs his jaw and answers her question, “Shoulda left when we could. They got the numbers, but with the stash we got, we’re even on fire power. ‘Specially since yer brother is a nutcase and makin’ bombs in D-block. Governor ain’t gonna stop ‘til he’s dead or we all are, Y’know that right?”

“So we kill him. And anyone else that tries ta take over after him. What happens if we set Jesse’s bombs up ‘round Woodbury’s walls?” Coretta tilts her head, “Explosions ain’t quiet, are they?”

Merle chuckles as he understands her implications, “Yer kinda fucked up, ain’t ya?”

“So’s the rest of the world. Survival of the fittest and all that good shit. Cigarette?” Coretta offers as she puts out her cigarette butt and pulls her pack out.

Merle raises and eyebrow and takes one, “Thought that was family only.”

“We’re all gonna die together, ain’t like it matters,” Coretta mutters and passes him her lighter.

“Damn, guess ya ain’t wrong. Y’know yer brother wants ta make and release chlorine gas on Woodbury?” Merle sounds mildly bothered by it. Which is fair, chemical warfare is a bit much.

“Jesse is creative like that. Ain’t like makin’ that is hard. Doubt he’ll actually do it, mean as he can be,” Coretta’s hoping he wouldn’t anyway. But, with her brother, it’s hard to tell. Depends on what the game plan ends up being, she figures, “I wanted ta get one of those giant slingshots and send flamin’ Walker heads over Woodbury’s wall.”

That gets a loud laugh from the man, “Fuck, girlie, how the hell y’all end up so fuckin’ nuts? Thought ya’d be the sane one.”

“Daddy issues and mommy issues up the fuckin’ asses, probably,” Coretta laughs and makes sure to keep her bitterness out of her voice, “What’s Yer damage?”

Merle sneers at her, “Gonna have ta buy me a damn drink first.”

Coretta shrugs and stands up, “Sorry, recently found myself unemployed. Ain’t got the cash ta drop for a sob story.”

Merle takes a drag of the cigarette and eyes her as she starts to leave, “Gonna tell ya one more time, Sweet cheeks, yer just heartache waitin’ ta happen. Leave Daryl alone.”

Coretta just laughs as she walks away. Ain’t her problem what Merle thinks of her. Ain’t her problem if he thinks she’s gonna hurt Daryl. Ain’t her problem at all. They got bigger issues to worry about. Like murdering the fuckin’ Governor as soon as possible.

Chapter Text

Rick is going to a fuckin’ feed store to have a meeting with the fuckin’ Governor. At fuckin’ noon. Coretta very loudly voices her opinion on not just killing the man then.

“Am I the only one who thinks not just killin’ him there is a bad idea? Fuck, people, one bullet and we’re done. Ain’t fuckin’ hard,” Coretta points out irritably. She studiously don’t think about watching the blood spray from the neck of the person she shot when they drove that truck full of walkers thorough the gate.

“We aren’t doing that, not if we can settle this peacefully,” Rick shoots it down.

“Jesse, ya got a bomb ready ta go?” Coretta glances at her brother.

He grins all mean and wild, “‘Course I do, can always set it up in the buildin’, wouldn’t be hard if we get there nice an’ early.”

Coretta gestures at her brother, “Boom, solution right there.”

“That’s not peaceful, Coretta, though I know you mean well,” Hershel sounds admonishing.

“Ain’t ‘bout peaceful, ‘bout solvin’ a damn problem,” Jesse drawls, “Gotta get Martinez too, don’t need that fucker takin’ over. Even if he’s a better choice than the Governor.”

Glenn seems to agree, “If it means none of our people get hurt, why not?”

“If it’s possible, if Andrea is right and the Governor is willing to sit down and talk, we should try for peace first,” Rick’s voice is firm, “I’m taking Daryl and Hershel with me. Everyone else will stay here and be ready just in case.”

Coretta exchanges a glance with Jesse and shakes her head, “Whatever ya say, Bossman.”

Jesse just sighs, “Ain’t gonna work, but if ya wanna be stupid, who am I ta tell ya no?”

Rick gives the pair a warning look but ends the meeting. Coretta watches with sharp eyes as he and Daryl and Hershel prepare to leave. She gets Hershel’s preference for peace talks. What she don’t get is Daryl’s. He’s always backed Rick, is basically second in command, but she don’t see how he thinks this is going to work. Can’t imagine he’s dumb enough to actually think this Governor fucker is going to play nice. She figures he’s just putting his trust in Rick again. Man has a habit of doin’ that.

Coretta checks her boys and the dogs are napping in their cell before she decides to go check out B-block. She figures Jesse could be a real help with that and goes to get him first. It’s a family affair after all. Ain’t right not to include him.

She grabs her knife and her bow and strolls to where her brother is leaning against the wall near a pissed off Mere and picking at a scar on his forearm. She remembers that one. He’d gotten it from Daddy’s belt when he was fourteen. Had been dumb enough to try and fight the man and paid dearly for it. Still, dark blue eyes shine brightly at her when she whistles to get his attention, “Whatcha need, ‘Retta?”

“Y’know which prison this is? Give ya three guesses and the first two don’t count,” Coretta smiles without joy as she watches his eyebrows come together in thought.

He stares down at her and real slowly says, “Yer fuckin’ shittin’ me.”

“Nope. Dixon’s been helpin’ me look. Ain’t found him yet, figure he’s in the last men’s cellblock or he ain’t here at all. Ya feel like havin’ a family reunion while we wait for this little parley ta end?” Coretta can see the old rage appear on Jesse’s face, combined with old hurt and resentment and a new manic excitement. She knows before he says it that he’s going to agree.

“Shit, lemme grab my axe,” Jesse is practically skipping as he goes to get the Axe he’d been using. Apparently he lost his compound bow and ain’t found a good replacement yet. So he’s been wanderin’ around with and axe and a pistol. Coretta ain’t sure how he ain’t dead. Luck of the devil, she figures.

Coretta resists the urge to light a cigarette, she’s been going through her convenience store sized stash too quick and she would like to delay unwillingly quitting for as long as she can. She waits impatiently for Jesse to come back. Her fingers tap tap tap against her thigh as the seconds pass. She ignores Merle and Glenn bickering over waiting in the prison or not. Just slips past them as soon as Jesse rejoins her, axe in hand, and ignores Glenn calling for her. They got family matters to settle.

Jesse’s got the ax thrown over one shoulder as she leads him through the prison to cellblock B. Only one they ain’t cleared yet on this side of the prison. Ain’t sure why, just ain’t needed the space yet, she supposes. Ain’t worth the effort probably or the risk. It is for her and Jesse though. If their daddy is here, this is where they’ll find him. She won’t keep hunting after today. This is the end one way or another.

They have to put down small groups of Walkers on their way to the cellblock. Jesse is covered in gore while she stays a bit cleaner using her bow. She ducks behind him when he decides to get up close and personal with a huge walker and picks off the other ones as quick as she can. They get to the doors of the cellblock and pause. They can see in through the sliding bar doors and there’s at least twenty Walkers in there that aren’t trapped in cells.

Jesse eyes the Walkers as they notice them and start shambling over, “Deal with these guys through the bars, then go in?”

“Sounds good,” Coretta slings her bow over her shoulder and pulls out her buck knife.

It’s as easy as killing them at the fence. Step forward. Stab. Retreat from grasping, rotting hands. Repeat. Jesse is more violent about it. Slamming the axe into skulls like he’s trying to see how hard he can hit them. The result is a large pile of dead bodies they have to climb over to get into the cellblock. Which is as nasty as everything else in this fucked new world. Coretta tries hard not focus on the feeling of rotting fuckin’ bodies under her feet, especially when her boots go through one of the bodies’ chests and there’s a horrible squelching noise when she pulls her foot out. Jesse just huffs and curses about how fuckin’ disgusting corpses are.

There’s only a handful of closed cells but they all have Walkers in them. Coretta and Jesse walk slowly, pausing to shine a flash light into each cell to observe the walkers. Jesse starts talking real slow as they do, “Remember those nights he wouldn’t come home from the bar ‘cause he found some dumb bitch ta fuck?”

“Ya used ta wake me and Hunter up at two-thirty in the fuckin’ Mornin’ so we could watch movies without him gettin’ pissed at us for messin’ with the TV,” Coretta thinks those were some of the happiest nights of her childhood after their momma died.

“Yeah, had ta be then, ‘cause if he weren’t home by then, he weren’t comin’ back that night. We could relax a bit,” Jesse nods.

“Just had ta make sure he couldn’t tell we’d done it when he finally came back,” Coretta reminisces. They hadn’t ever touched the volume, had been careful to put everything back exactly the way it was before. Jesse used to save money just to buy movies for those nights. So they could see something new occasionally. They’d hidden those in the shitty mattress her and Hunter had shared until Jesse left.

“Best times were when he was gone on a bender. Sure, meant bills weren’t gettin’ paid that month, but for a few days it was just the three of us. Could sleep good those days,” Jesse sounds almost like he misses those days.

“Summers weren’t bad when Hunter was little and Daddy ignored him. Used ta just live in the fuckin’ woods. Only came in ta shower and check on him, remember?” Coretta had spent a lot of time out in the woods with Jesse when school wasn’t in session. Anything to hide from their daddy.

“Used ta have ta drag ya outta that damn creek. Swear ya thought ya were a frog or some shit,” Jesse laughs lowly.

“Yer the one who used ta kick me outta the house for hours with nothin’ ta do but mess with yer old bow,” Coretta counters, “‘Course I got more comfortable out there.”

“Then ya did the same thing ta Hunter,” They both pretend his voice doesn’t crack when he says Hunter’s name.

“‘Course. I learned watchin’ ya. Hell else was I supposed ta do?” Coretta comes to  stop in front of one cell and stares at the Walker inside reaching through the bars for them.

Jesse shines the light on it and his face goes hard, “Looks like time ain’t been kind ta him.”

Coretta’s lip curls in distaste as she looks at the Walker that had been their father. Not as huge as her memory tells her he should be. Looks like an older, rotted Jesse though. Jesse has always been the man’s spitting image except for Momma’s hair color. Just like she was the spitting image of their momma. Her hand tightens on her knife, “Ain’t so big anymore.”

“Nah, ya just grew up, ‘Retta. He just ain’t nothin’ worth fearin’ anymore,” Jesse’s voice is a strange mix of hate and pain and softness.

“I hope he’s burnin’ in the hell he never believed in,” Coretta breathes out.

“He don’t even deserve that much. He deserves ta be nothin’ at all,” Jesse growls it out, “Ya got Wade’s ‘shine?”

“In my cell,” Coretta answers without taking her eyes off the dead man they had the misfortune of being born to.

“I’mma go get some. Don’t kill him yet,” Jesse orders and slips away from her. Leaves her alone with the groaning, reaching, rotting corpse of their old man. Coretta’s eyes don’t leave him the entire time, even as it feels like hours before Jesse returns.

He’s quiet as he returns with jar of shine that’s only half full, takes a small sip and says calmly, “He were always a piece of shit, Y’know. Used ta, before ya were born, it was only Momma who got it from him. Started small, a hit here, a slap there. More he drank an’ the more jobs he lost an’ the more depressed she got, the meaner he’d get.”

“Momma was always sad,” Coretta remembers that the most about their momma. That she was sad. That she hardly smiled and seemed to just stare at the wall and not move on the real bad days.

“Weren’t always. She used ta bleed out babies a lot. S’why there’s a seven year age gap between us. Hunter an’ ya were damn miracles. Every time she’d lose one, Daddy would beat her bloody and she’d get sadder. He’d accuse her of killin’ his kids on purpose. Used ta wish they’d just stop tryin’,” Jesse sounds like it hurt to remember that.

“She lost one between me and Hunter, didn’t she?” Coretta thinks she remembers being told something like that.

“Yeah. Just the one. Never could get pregnant again after Hunter though. Damn blessin’ there,” Jesse’s voice is distant as he remembers, “Ya were barely one then.”

“Hunter was her favorite, weren’t he?” She vaguely remembers she seemed a bit more loving towards him than her or Jesse.

“Yeah. But she prayed most for ya,” Jesse shares as he takes another sip of ‘shine and hands her the jar, “When she were carryin’ ya in her belly, she’d pray all sortsa prayers for ya. Prayed ya’d be pretty. Prayed ya’d be smart. Prayed ya’d be stronger than her. Prayed ya’d be happy. She only prayed that much for ya.”

Coretta takes a sip of the nasty liquid and stares at the Walker, “I didn’t know.”

“I only know ‘cause I overheard her a few times,” Jesse admits, “Daddy was real sweet ta her that whole pregnancy. Like he actually loved her an’ shit.”

“Did he ever love any of us?” Coretta wonders if there was ever a time he actually loved them.

“Don’t think he knew how. Once, though, when ya were a baby, ya got real sick, like thought ya were gonna die sick. Daddy sobered up an’ sat with ya the entire time ‘til ya got better. Didn’t sleep the whole damn time. Think he tried ta love us, when we were little, at least,” Jesse sounds like he hates that the man ever even tried. That he had moments where he seemed to actually care.

“Then Momma decided hangin’ from a ceilin’ fan weren’t a bad idea,” Coretta remembers that all too well. Remembers being six and standing behind Jesse as they stared up at their Momma. Remembers thinking the woman was just standing funny on the bed at first. That’s the best memory she has of her mother’s face that ain’t from a faded, torn photo. Purple and slack with a swollen tongue sticking out of her mouth and piss still dripping down her legs.

“Yeah. Then Daddy decided it was fine ta beat us next since she were gone,” Jesse takes the jar from her and takes a long drink from it, “I wanna see if yer aim is any better, back up far as ya can and show me a heart shot.”

Coretta narrows her eyes and backs up until she’s a foot or so from the far wall and nocks an arrow to her bow. She takes her time aiming. Wants to get this right. Wants to see if their daddy actually had a heart between his lungs. Wants to make sure she hits it if he did. She takes a deep breath as she draws the string back until she can’t anymore. She lets go on the exhale and stares at the arrow protruding from the Walker’s chest.

“Right lung shot now,” Jesse orders in the way he used to when teaching her to use the bow as kids.

She knocks another arrow. Lines it up carefully. Wants a perfect line across her daddy’s chest. Ignores the fact their avoiding actually putting him down. She breathes in. Breathes out. Let’s the arrow fly. Listens as it embeds itself exactly where she wanted it.

“Left lung shot.”

Coretta knocks another arrow and complies. Her eyes are fixed on that line of arrows as she lowers her bow and walks back to stand with her brother. She takes the moonshine from him and calm as can be asks, “Who puts him down?”

“Could burn him, ain’t like concrete gonna let fire spread everywhere,” Jesse muses.

“Like the trailer,” Coretta remembers sitting on Jesse’s truck’s tailgate as he burned down their childhood home. The fire department hadn’t even shown up to stop them. No one had given a shit that the remaining Claire kids were committing arson. Everyone in that damn trailer park knew why and didn’t see fit to stop them. Had just come and watched too as that shitty ass trailer went up in flames.

“Just like that damn trailer, could use the shine ta speed it up if yer willin’ ta part with this jar,” Jesse nods to the jar she’s taking a long sip from.

Coretta hands him the jar, “Let him burn in this world like he’s burnin’ in the next.”

Jesse nods seriously and takes the jar. Coretta hardy breathes as she watches him splash shine onto their daddy’s corpse as it keeps trying to reach them. Watches as he makes a point to get most of it on the Walker’s head. She starts to offer her lighter, but Jesse pulls his own out and carefully lights the man up and leaps back as flames engulf him. They stand together in silence as they watch him burn for as long as they can.

They stay until the smoke is too much and they need to leave. Stop just long enough to check and make sure the fire won’t be spreading out from the dead man. Neither of them say a word when Glenn demands to know where they went or when Maggie asks why they smell like smoke or why they’re covered in gore. They just wave the questions away as Coretta decides to show her brother where the showers are. They need to wash away the last remnants of the man that made their lives hell.

Chapter Text

The little negotiation party comes back to the prison and Coretta is dying to call bullshit. Rick is a good liar. She’ll give him that, but his eyes give it away. Too expressive. Hunter was like that too. The eyes always give it away. She ain’t sure why he lied and said the Governor wants war. Ain’t sure what was discussed instead, but she supposes Rick’s chosen war over whatever solution was proposed instead. Coretta has to light a cigarette thinking about it. She don’t want war. Don’t want a fight. But running ain’t an option and surrender ain’t either. He should have let Jesse bomb the hell outta the Governor. Saved them all the hassle.

As it stands, there’s nothing to do now but wait for shit to hit the fan. Nothing to do but wait and pray and prepare. Makes her want to get the boys and hide. Makes her want that shine shack back. Makes her want to rage and curse. Makes her want a lot of things. She’s never liked waiting. Never liked feeing helpless. It ain’t her way. Makes her want to fight. Makes her meaner than she’d like to be. So she keeps a cigarette in her mouth and paces the cellblock like a caged animal to keep from twisting off on anyone.

Her boys are playing uno with Sophia, even if Mason is keeping that bow of his within grabbing reach. The dogs are napping on the cool concrete nearby. The baby is crying and Carl is trying to be older than he is. Rick has disappeared off to talk to Hershel in private. Michonne is working out. Glenn is stewing and Merle just will not shut the fuck up.

Coretta paces and paces and Daryl ends up growling at her, “Fuck, woman, Makin’ everyone fuckin’ nervous with all that pacin’ shit.”

She glares at him, wishing he hadn’t bothered her, wishing he’d just leave her the fuck alone, because she feels like one of Jesse’s bombs right before it goes off. She blows smoke in his direction and curls her lip, “Yer free ta run off again if it upsets ya so bad.”

She can practically hear his teeth grinding at that comment. She doesn’t care though, just walks up the stairs to her cell and goes to slip by him like it’s nothing. His hand shoots out and grabs her upper arm in a soft grip as she does and he grits out low and frustrated, “Came back, didn’t I? Ain’t that mean shit?”

Coretta works her jaw and eyes the hand on her arm, “It supposed ta?”

His hand retracts slowly and he looks away, “Guess not.”

“Yeah. Exactly,” Coretta finishes walking up the stairs and slips into her cell. Paces that short length of space instead. She doesn’t even know who she’s pissed at. The Governor or Rick or Daryl or the world or just her shitty fuckin’ life. She’s just pissed and stressed and waiting for more bullshit. Something has to give. This waiting game won’t last long.

She paces for hours, skips dinner and can hear her boys put themselves to bed. Can hear Beth singing like she’s in a fuckin’ concert. Watches as Red comes trotting into her cell and crawls under the bunk. Coretta doesn’t stop pacing even as her feet hurt from it. Keeps pacing until the sheet she put up moves aside and Daryl is knocking softly on her cell’s bars. She pauses with a raised eyebrow and gestures for him to come in. He does, though it’s clear he’s uncomfortable doing it.

She pulls out another cigarette, one of many since Rick declared war, and leans against her bunk, “Dixon.”

“Ain’t gonna tell me ta fuck off?” He sounds like he’s almost hoping she will.

“What ya want?” Coretta is suddenly tired. Too tired to fight. Too tired to care. She just wants him to get to whatever it is he came here for.

He chews his thumb for a moment before saying real low, “Ya really so pissed I left?”

“I get why ya left. I get blood well and good. Don’t mean I gotta be okay with it. The group needs ya, in case yer blind,” Coretta sighs and looks at the cigarette, “And ya damn near broke my boys’ hearts. Mason went and cussed Rick and Glenn out over it, Y’know.”

“Sounds like some shit he’d do. They’d’ve been fine. Woulda forgotten real quick,” Daryl sounds gruff and awkward and like he’s not sure what to do.

“Nah. They’d’ve remembered. Will remember. They ain’t babies. Their memories work fine. Keston was cryin’ and I couldn’t fix it,” Coretta takes a drag and exhales, “Can’t fix a lot these days.”

Daryl works his jaw and she can tell he’s struggling to figure out what to say, “Claire, Jesse, whatever the fuck yer brother goes by, damn near tried ta break my jaw when Merle asked ‘bout ya ‘cause Glenn said yer name ‘round him. Merle had ta step in. Yer brother don’t fuck ‘round. Said if I’d hurt ya or anythin’, he’d kill me slow.”

Coretta snorts, “Sounds like Jesse. Threatened Wade more times than I can count. Funny thing was, he only ever said it sober. S’how I knew he meant it, ‘cause he don’t lie ‘bout family when he’s sober. If it helps, he ain’t mention killin’ ya ta me yet.”

He squints at her and changes the subject, “Yer scared of what’s happenin’. Ya gonna take those boys and run?”

Coretta’s thought about it, but she shakes her head, “Ain’t nowhere ta run. Ain’t ya figured it out yet, Dixon? We’re all gonna die together. Best pick where ya want yer grave.”

“Ain’t no one gonna die. Not ya. Not Mason. Not Keston. Y’all gonna live,” He sounds angry all of the sudden. Like she’s pissed him off by saying what she’s been thinking.

She shrugs, “Can’t promise that. ‘Sides, me and my boys ain’t yer concern. Whatever debt ya think ya owed for me keepin’ Sophia among the livin’? Been paid a long while now.”

That makes him pissed. She can see the muscles in his arms flex as his eyes narrow dangerously at her, “Ya think I been takin’ care of y’all outta fuckin’ debt or some other dumb shit?”

“Why the hell else ya bother with us? Ain’t like yer a real friendly fucker, barely talk ta anyone most of the damn time,” She shifts awkwardly under the heaviness of his stare.

“Ain’t ever been fuckin’ repayin’ some damn debt, woman. Thought ya had a fuckin’ brain,” he snarls it low and furious.

Coretta glares, “Got enough of a brain ta know Rick is fuckin’ lyin’ and I want ta know why.”

Daryl seems to freeze as he processes that, “Don’t fuckin’ be tellin’ people that shit. Don’t matter anyway, don’t think he’ll be able ta go through with it.”

“Go through with what, Dixon?” Coretta steps towards him and tilts her head to look up and study his face better. Hair is getting longer. He still refuses to let her cut it. He needs another fuckin’ shower and he looks worn out for all his irritation.

His jaw works side to side like he’s chewing the words and he don’t like happy at all as he tells her— because Dixon ain’t a liar— real quietly, “Governor wants Michonne.”

Coretta blinks and a cold shiver rolls down her spine. She may not know Michonne well and the woman may watch Keston like he’s a ghost or demon sent to haunt her, but she don’t think giving her to the man is a good idea. Coretta steps back and looks up at the ceiling, “One time, right before Jesse left, I don’t remember why, maybe daddy was in a mood that day, maybe we did something. I ain’t sure anymore, but he lined us all up against the wall of our living room— Jesse an’ me an’ Hunter. Told us one of us could catch the beatin’ or all of us could. We had ta choose between ourselves who got it. Jesse took it. Got beat black an’ blue and me an’ Hunter had ta watch. Then he beat me an’ Hunter ‘cause he could an’ he were a liar. If y’all think that offerin’ one up ta save the rest works, it don’t.”

Daryl is silent for a moment, “Rick’s a good guy, he ain’t gonna do it, I don’t think.”

Coretta takes a drag of her cigarette and shakes her head, “I got an idea. High risk, high reward.”

“Ya ain’t gonna do shit, woman. Yer gonna stay here with those boys and away from the fuckin’ Governor,” Daryl sounds genuinely worried underneath his gruff, irritated tone.

Coretta doesn’t lie often, it ain’t something she likes. She thinks it’s a waste of fuckin’ energy. But she ain’t above it. If she’s got the right reasons, she’ll do it. Better to ask forgiveness than beg permission and all that shit. She gives him a put out look but raises her hands in surrender, “Fine, Dixon. I’ll stay outta it. Governor ain’t gonna take kindly ta not bein’ given that woman, though.”

“Ya just said ya think givin’ him Michonne is a bad idea,” He points out.

“Yeah. It is. Not givin’ her ta him without a fuckin’ plan is worse. But ya want me ta stay outta it, I will. And when we all die, I’mma gladly say I fuckin’ told ya so in the afterlife,” Coretta puts her cigarette out in the ashtray she found and looks at it for a minute, “Do me a favor?”

“What?” He sounds wary.

“This shit goes wrong, we all end up on the receivin’ end of the Governor’s crazy, make sure my boys get out alive, if I can’t,” Coretta’s voice is soft as she comes to terms with the plan forming in her head. She’ll need Jesse for it. Maybe another person. Gonna need to get out of the prison without being noticed.

Daryl is furious again and gets her backed against the wall in a heartbeat, “Ain’t gonna do that, ya hear me? Ain’t gonna need ta do that shit. So quit fuckin’ talkin’ like yer dead already.”

Coretta’s eyes lock on his and she gives him a small smile, “Careful, Dixon, gonna make me think yer gonna miss me.”

He just makes an irritated noise and steps back, “Quit fuckin’ ‘round.”

Coretta doesn’t say a word back as he leaves. She has plans to work out. Things to come to terms with and details to wheedle out of people. She ain’t expecting it to go well for her. She just needs it to fuckin’ work. Remove the threat to her kids before it can get any worse. Jesse will help. He’s always helped when she’s asked. Even when he’d rather be too high to think, he’d help if she needed it. She’ll need his help one more time.

Chapter Text

Jesse doesn’t say a word as she whispers her plan to him in the early hours of the morning. Just sits and finishes his second bomb. When she’s done, he nods once, “Gonna be dangerous, Baby ‘Retta. I’ll handle Woodbury’s gate. Ya handle the feed store. Better chance of ya comin’ back that way.”

“Tell me how the bomb works,” Coretta gestures to the finished one.

“Simple enough. So it’s filled with fuckin’ shrapnel. This little switch here? Connected ta a timer I made outta a watch. Ain’t real elegant, but gets the job done. Flip the switch, get the hell away. It’ll go off ten minutes later. Do not be near it when it does. Find good cover if ya can’t get leave,” Jesse’s voice is serious as it ever it, “We live, I’mma teach ya how ta make ‘em yerself. Shoulda done that years ago.”

“Where’d ya even learn ta do this?”

“Trial and error and libraries,” Jesse grins a little at her, “Take a gun, not yer bow. A gun. Run if ya have ta. Don’t be stupid.”

“What ‘bout ya?” Coretta wishes he weren’t insisting on helping more than this.

“Luck of the damn Devil, remember? Don’t worry ‘bout me. Worry ‘bout yer job an’ yer life. Ya hear me?” Jesse glares at her as he keeps his voice low enough not to attract Merle’s attention.

“I hear ya fine. Yer bomb the same kind?” Coretta eyes the second one warily.

“Nah. This one is a bit more explosive. Put napalm in it,” Jesse sounds extremely proud of himself as he carefully placed her bomb in a backpack with the switch locked into the off position.

“When do we leave?” Coretta tilts her head.

“Soon, gonna have ta go on foot. Takin’ one of the cars is gonna be noticed. Go kiss yer babies goodbye and we’ll go,” Jesse’s eyes are worn looking but as hard as stone, “I’ll get the guns, meet me out back where ya said those people got in.”

“Alright. Be there soon,” Coretta stands and slips out. Not pausing when she hears Merle stirring from his cell. No one is really up yet except for Daryl and Rick and they ain’t in the cellblock. They’re outside workin’ on the gate the Governor fucked up. This is the only time they’ll get to slip out and it’s a long walk to their locations.

Coretta checks her knife’s sharpness as she goes up the stairs to her sons’ cell. Shushes Molly-dog when the dog raises her head and her tail starts thumping the bed. Her sons are both dead to the world. Mason is snoring softly and Keston is twitching in his sleep. They’ve grown. She remembers when they were so tiny and she would spend every second she could just looking at them. How Mason had hated tummy time more than anything and seemed to want to walk without crawling first. She used to tell him to take his time, she remembers, used to tell him there’d be plenty of time to run, even knowing he wouldn’t understand her. How Keston had a favorite stuffed animal— a giraffe— that they’d lost when the world ended. He’d never complained over it though. Her babies had never much complained. Wade used to said they learned it from her.

Coretta stands on her tiptoes and kisses Mason’s head, breathing in the smell of her son. He needs a bath, but even still, she loves his smell. Loves everything about her boys. This has to work. She can’t afford for it to fail. She goes down on her knees and pets Keston’s hair next until his twitching stops. His hair is curled at the ends like Wade’s. Her baby is gonna be real pretty when he’s older. Because he is going to be older one day. He’s gonna live to be Mason’s age. To be Hunter’s age. To be her age. Her boys won’t die. Not here or anywhere else. She kisses his head too before standing up. Scratches Molly-dog behind the ears for a moment then slips back out as quietly as she came.

She has to move quietly. Winces every time one of the doors in the prison makes a noise when she opens it. She finds the opening Tyreese’s people came through easily enough. They need to patch that up. It’s a security hazard. Jesse is waiting there with two of the heavy duty guns and a pair of backpacks that both have bombs in them.

He hands her the smaller bag and one of the guns, “We’ll stick together as long as we can. Split up when it’s time. The meetin’ is supposed to take place at noon  from what I overheard Rick tellin’ Hershel. Yer people gotta work on Makin’ sure they ain’t bein’ overheard.”

“Ain’t shocked there, be safe?” Coretta and Jesse may have their issues, but he’s always been her big brother, she ain’t ready to be an only child anytime soon.

“Safe as we ever are. Don’t stick ‘round, ‘Retta, get in, set the bomb, bug the fuck out,” Jesse returns as they start towards the place they’ll split up. About a half mile out from the prison, she’ll go to the feedstore, he’ll go to Woodsbury. She hopes they’ll both make it home.

They don’t speak again as they walk. Pausing only to kill Walkers that come near them. Coretta’s heart is beating out of her chest and the backpack feels heavier than it really is. She feels eerily calm though. It’s an unnatural kind of calm, but it’s calm all the same. Her head is clearer than it’s been in awhile.

They pause at the place they’re splitting up and just stay there for a minute. Jesse looks around and up at the sky and then at her, “Remember, once you flip that switch, you have ten minutes, get the fuck out.”

“Got it. See ya on the other side?” Coretta grins at him like they’re kids dicking ‘round in the woods again.

Jesse returns the grin, “Fuck yeah, ‘Retta.”

They don’t speak again as they part ways. Coretta going straight while he goes to the left. There’s no going back now. She makes sure to try and cover her tracks as she goes. No reason to make it easy for Daryl to interfere. The trail of dead walkers she’s leaving as she goes makes that pointless, she figures. It’s a long walk and Coretta debates trying to Hotwire a car. She doesn’t want to risk the alarms going off though. She wants to do this quietly for as long as she can. Doesn’t want Walkers complicating things. Less problems the better.

She gets there irritatingly early judging by the sun’s position. At least an hour early. So she checks the entire place out. Walks between the silos and wanders in and out of the buildings. Checks for walkers and tries to figure out where the fuck the best place to put the bomb will be. She eyes the direction she came in from and the direction Jesse went in. She gambles on them being direct.

Walks out maybe twenty feet from the feed-store and sets the bag on the ground. Unzips it and eyes the bomb inside carefully. It’s nearly noon and she really doesn’t want this thing to go off too soon. She has to cut it close. Has to risk them catching her. She glares at it and glares at the sky. Then she hears fucking music. Loud as shit fucking music coming up the damn dirt road from behind the mill. Coretta starts cursing hard and flips the damn switch. Grabs her gun and takes off into one of the buildings.

She’s not expecting Merle to come out of nowhere and yank her down near a window, “Hell are ya doin’ here?”

“Bomb. We ain’t got long. Need ta get good cover,” Coretta don’t ask what the fuck Merle is doing here.

Merle gives her a look that says he thinks she’s batshit insane and glances through the window he’s setting his gun up in, “Bitch, are ya outta yer damn mind? Should be back at the fuckin’ prison with the rest of them chuckleheads.”

“Ya ain’t supposed ta be here either,” she hisses and starts checking her gun, “The hell ya doin’ here?”

“Here ta kill the damn Governor. Yer gonna cover me while I take him and his fuckers out, ya hear me? Yer stayin’ where I can keep a fuckin’ eye on ya, don’t need Darylina bein’ all pissy ‘cause I let ya get shot,” He sounds royally pissed.

“Sure, don’t give a shit, just don’t wanna blow up with them fuckers,” Coretta snaps and starts checking her gun over. Merle was not part of the damn plan. The sound of cars pulling up draws their attention.

“Fuck, stay down, girlie, they’re here, when that bomb supposed ta go off?” Merle flips his safety off and starts popping off shots.

“Couple more minutes. Four? Five, maybe? Not sure, ain’t got a watch,” Coretta curses when she hears the familiar groans of Walkers amid the sounds of shouting and gunfire.

“It in that Damn backpack?” Merle growls out as he fires another shot.

“Yeah.”

“Good, idiots parked right behind it. Didn’t even fuckin’ look at it, might get lucky, sweet cheeks,” he’s talking fast as fuck as he keeps going.

Coretta curses and has to twist around and put down a walker that made it in with them. The fuckin’ bomb goes off almost immediately afterwards. Merle grabs her and drags her back to the floor as the bomb shatters windows and shrapnel comes dangerously close to stabbing right where her head had just been.

Merle is laughing like a fuckin’ maniac as they regain their bearings, “Holy shit, yer brother ain’t fuckin’ ‘round when he makes those things, huh?”

Coretta’s ears are ringing as she stumbles to her feet and tries to figure out if it worked. She’s breathing hard as she grabs her gun and pants out, “Go big or go home.”

Merle’s laughter ceases out of nowhere when he glances out the window and he’s on his feet with his gun up before she can blink. His face is twisted in fury and he’s popping shots off through the window again like a demon. She gets it when she hears a car driving away as fast as it can, he stops and starts cursing before turning to glare at her, “He got away, ya hear me? Bastard managed ta survive! Him and that stupid fuckin’ Martinez.”

“Won’t survive Jesse,” Coretta thinks her nose is bleeding from that fuckin’ bomb. She’s almost positive she’s concussed.

Merle glares, “Hell is he gonna do?”

“Blow up their front gate. They broke our gate, we break theirs,” Coretta grins stupidly and sways a bit as he takes her gun from her.

Merle is cussing up a fucking storm, “Bitch, y’all Claire’s ain’t right in the fuckin’ heads. Gonna get yerselves killed. C’mon, them Biters gonna be fuckin’ swarmin’ after that fuckin’ light show.”

Coretta giggles a bit and obediently follows him, things are on fire outside and there’s a small crater where the backpack was and corpses and body parts and Walkers everywhere. Coretta keeps her knife in her hand as she forces herself to focus even as she’s a bit dizzy from the blast. She ain’t gonna get bit today. Fuck that. She didn’t blow up and she didn’t get fuckin’ shot. Ain’t gonna get bit. Not today. No sirree.

Merle is primarily dealing with the walkers. Cussing them and her and the Governor to hell and back the whole fuckin’ time. Coretta doesn’t mind. They ain’t dead. Jesse hopefully won’t be either. She manages to keep one eye out for Walkers and another out for the sight of smoke.

Daryl meets them halfway back and it’s clear he’s been running. Clear he’s royally fuckin’ pissed. Coretta giggles a bit as him and Merle start yelling at each other. That’s a mistake. Daryl turns his fury on her, “Quit fuckin’ laughin’! Ain’t nothin’ ‘bout this fuckin’ funny! Told ya ta stay in the fuckin’ prison, woman! Hell were ya even thinkin’?! Coulda fuckin’ died! Ya got those fuckin’ kids! Gonna leave ‘em damn orphans?! Hell is wrong with ya?!”

Coretta just grins stupidly at him and pulls out a cigarette, “Knew ya cared.”

Daryl makes a noise like a pissed off dog and takes the cigarette from her before she can light it, “‘Course I care, ya fuckin’ idiot! Fuckin’ bullshit runnin’ off like that ta pull this shit! Didn’t realize ya were fuckin’ suicidal!”

Coretta pulls another cigarette out just to spite him and lights it as she jerks her face away before he can take this one too, “Ain’t suicidal. Ain’t stupid. Don’t fuckin’—“

She breaks off and whips her head around as a low, distance rumble comes from the direction of Woodbury. There’s smoke climbing up into the sky and she starts laughing all over again, “Looks like Jesse did his fuckin’ part. What, Dixon? Thought it weren’t a family affair?”

The Dixon’s are both looking at that smoke. Merle starts laughing too even as Daryl looks like he’s about to start yelling again, “Shit, Looks like Woodbury’s got new problems. Relax, Darylina, yer girl ain’t dead and neither am I. Shit worked fine. Quit bein’ a little bitch ‘bout it.”

Coretta just muffles her giggles at the dark look Daryl is giving them both as they start back towards the prison. It’s a long walk back and Coretta’s head hurts like a bitch and the Dixon brothers keep bickering and cursing each other and her when she pipes up. Coretta don’t mind none. She ain’t dead. Both bombs worked. Hopefully, Jesse meets them back at the prison. She figures she’s gonna get an earful from Rick next, but with her likely concussion and the fact she ain’t dead, she don’t really give a shit. Ain’t like he can be that mad. They got shit done.

Chapter Text

Rick yells a lot. At her and Merle. Then promptly announces his dictatorship ain’t workin’ since he lied and all ‘bout Michonne. It’s a bit of a whiplash feeling, but Coretta is just glad it’s over with. Then Jesse saunters in covered in ashes and Walker gore from that fuckin’ security breach of a back entrance like he went on a Sunday fuckin’ stroll.

“Don’t think Woodbury’s gonna be worried ‘bout us for a good while,” He drawls as everyone stares at him. He doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by the stares, just puts his gun up and grabs an instant ramen out the food stores and tosses it in the microwave.

“What the hell did you do?” Rick sounds pissed again.

“Blew one of their gates sky fuckin’ high. Yer welcome,” Jesse is entirely unrepentant.

“There are innocents in there!” Rick snaps.

“Didn’t blow ‘em up. Just the gates. Big worry’s the Biters. I rang the fuckin’ mother of all dinner bells for everyone of the nasty bastards in a ten mile radius. Maybe they’ll get shit fixed ‘fore they show, maybe they won’t. Innocents gotta fightin’ chance. Can always run while they can. Ain’t my concern, truth be told,” Jesse glances over at the group finally and his eyes are colder than normal. Like some kind of light went out in him somewhere between them leaving this morning and his return. Coretta don’t like that one bit. Makes him look even more like daddy.

“The Governor dead?” Coretta’s voice is softer than normal, the voice she’d use when they were kids and if she used the wrong tone Daddy would flip shit. It’s been a long time since she’s used that tone.

Jesse seems to recognize that tone for what it is and a funny shudder goes through his shoulders when he looks at her, “Ain’t sure. Didn’t fuckin’ stick ‘round ta watch. Nice ta see ya too, ‘Retta. I’m fine, in case ya were worried.”

“If ya weren’t fine, ya’d’ve stayed gone,” She retorts, voice returning to normal.

The microwave goes off and he takes his ramen out as he mutters, “Rot slow, ‘Retta.”

Coretta ain’t heard that one before, but it clicks easily enough. Only Walkers take a long time to rot. Fucker is telling her to go become a fuckin’ Walker. He’s definitely fuckin’ fine if he’s coming up with new ways to insult and curse people, “After ya.”

“So what? After all this, we don’t even know if the Governor is gone?” Glenn sounds furious.

“Yer free ta go find out for yerself, punchin’ bag. Watch out for fuckin’ Biters,” Jesse snaps immediately, far less nice with him than he his with Coretta. Family privilege and all that.

He wanders over with his food, ruffles each of her sons’ hair and sits on the stairs beside her. There’s a silence as everyone thinks through what to do now. Rick speaks up, “This is a chance, at worst, they’ve bought us time. At best, it’s over. We’ll prepare and plan for now like it’s for the worst. Build our defenses up. Keep an eye out for the Governor and his people. If he’s not dead, he’s going to be out for blood.”

No one speaks up to disagree.

Rick looks over at her and Jesse, “No more bombs. Not unless we need them, understand?”

Jesse swallows the ramen he’d been eating and offers a mocking salute, “Sir yes Sir.”

Coretta just nods and shifts her position as Keston crawls into her lap and tucks himself under her chin. No more bombs. Not if they ain’t needed. Takes resources to make ‘em. Resources better spent elsewhere if a bomb ain’t needed.

Things are quiet for the rest of the night. Jesse retreats to cellblock D even though Rick announces that he and Merle are allowed to move into cellblock C, since there’s plenty of free cells to choose from. Even Glenn doesn’t voice his dissent there aside from making it clear they ain’t gonna be neighboring his and Maggie’s cell if they know what’s good for ‘em.

Mason and Keston cling to her and give anyone who comes near her venomous glares. Makes it a bit difficult when she wants to go shower and piss. Like having two pint sized bodyguards. Least it means she can shove them in the showers too and clean them up. She manages to get both of them clean as they can be and gets them fed easily enough. Apparently, her running off to do dumb shit makes them oddly obedient. She ain’t sure why. Should’ve read more parenting books probably. She don’t think the ones she read had discussed this scenario.

She gets them put to bed after having to sing them five songs in a row before they settle and ends up wandering over to where Daryl is in his perch, sharpening his buck knife. He glares at her as she takes a seat crosslegged in front of him, but doesn’t tell her to fuck off. She figures that as close a welcome as she’ll get right now. She sighs and digs out her cigarette pack and offers him one, “Ain’t gonna say sorry for what I did. Am sorry yer pissed though. Weren’t my intention.”

He takes the cigarette and lights it before snarling, “Yeah? Hell was yer intention? ‘Cause it sure as shit seems like it were, ya fuckin’ liar. Ya told me ya wouldn’t get fuckin’ involved.”

Coretta lights her own cigarette and shrugs, “Woulda ya have let me do it if I were honest? Did what I felt I had ta.”

He scoffs, “‘Course I woulda stopped ya. I ain’t allowed ta up and leave then ya ain’t allowed ta up and die.”

Coretta blows a smoke ring before responding, “Woulda ya had grieved me if I’d died? When ya left, I was pissed. The more pissed ‘cause ya came back like ya never fuckin’ left. Never did like shit like that.”

Daryl’s eyes are on her and in the low light she can’t see the blue in them, “Ain’t leavin’ again.”

“Holdin’ ya ta that, Dixon. Ya ain’t answer my question, would ya have grieved?” Coretta don’t know why she wants that answer, but she does. Maybe she’s just curious if anyone besides her sons and Jesse would care.

Daryl takes the longest drag of his cigarette she’s seen and doesn’t look at her before mumbling, “Hell ya think?”

Coretta raises an eyebrow, “Think ya’d miss me something fierce if the way ya got mad earlier means shit.”

Even in the low light she swears his face colors red a bit, “Knew ya weren’t as fuckin’ stupid as ya been actin’.”

“Why?” Coretta tilts her head and watches him blow smoke out one corner of his mouth.

“What?”

“I know ya heard me just fine, Daryl Dixon,” Coretta grins slowly when he stops sharpening his knife to look at her fully, eyebrows pulled together.

“It matter?”

“Maybe.” Coretta’s not sure if it’s the left over adrenaline of the day, her concussion or the fact he admitted he cared earlier that’s making her want to push him. She’s not sure it really matters, “Been awhile since someone outside of blood would have reason ta miss me.”

He makes a grunting noise but doesn’t respond. Coretta puts her cigarette out on the concrete and plays with the leather cuff he gave her, she can see his eyes follow the movement, “Don’t think I’ve ever thanked ya for all ya’ve done for me and the boys. Should’ve by now. So thank ya.”

He ducks his head and mumbles real quietly, “don’t need yer thanks.”

Coretta’s answering laugh is soft, “Still. Ya have it.”

His eyes are on her again as he nods a bit and puts his cigarette out. Coretta has the urge to run her hand through his hair but resists it, he ain’t a fan of being touched. She’d figured that out by spending months with him. More than once she’s seen him twitch away from contact. The only physical contact he seems okay with is what he initiates.

“What’re ya lookin’ at, woman?” He sounds annoyed that she’s looking him over in silence.

She hums, “Lookin’ at ya. And thinkin’ things.”

“Gonna say what yer thinkin’?”

“Just that yer a good man. For all ya like ta huff an’ puff, ya ain’t the big bad wolf,” She grins at the way he eyes her.

“Ya been drinkin’ that fuckin’ shine again?”

“Concussed, remember? Hershel made it damn clear no moonshine for awhile,” Coretta laughs.

“Maybe ya shouldn’t be sayin’ shit when yer brain’s all scrambled,” He suggests roughly.

“Gonna anyway. Don’t think ya hear it enough,” Coretta spins the cuff around her wrist idly.

“Ya think a lot,” He says it but he doesn’t sound like he’s bothered by it.

“Not much else ta do these days,” Coretta shrugs, “Woulda ya bite my hand off if I played with yer hair?”

He squints at her in the darkness, “Ain’t ya always try ta cut it?”

“Nah, I gave that shit up. ‘Sides, it don’t look bad. So, can I?” Coretta ain’t sure why she’s feeling so bold about this, but he ain’t told her to go fuck herself, so she figures he ain’t that bothered.

He’s silent for a moment, then shrugs one shoulder, “If ya quit yer chatterin’.”

Coretta is genuinely surprised he agreed. Figured he’d say no. She don’t give him a chance to take it back though. Just scrambles over to sit beside him on her knees. After a moment of hesitation, she runs her fingers lightly through his hair. It definitely needs a good wash, but it’s surprisingly soft despite that. For the first few seconds he’s tense, before she starts massaging his scalp the way she learned to do before shit royally hit the fan.

Man practically melts when she does. She don’t talk the whole time, like he asked, and he ain’t sharpening his knife anymore. Just sits there with his head tilted back a little as she works. The way he’s acting, she’d think no one had ever done this shit for him before. She ain’t sure though, he don’t talk ‘bout his past at all and she ain’t never felt comfortable pushing for details it’s clear he don’t wanna share.

It’s a comfortable silence and Coretta lets herself just focus on what she’s doing instead of everything else going on in the world. She hums to herself softly as she works circles on his scalp. Coretta isn’t expecting it when he shifts a bit and one strong arm wraps around her waist to pull her in front of him. She squeaks a bit at the sudden movement before large hands are working firm circles over her shoulders and back.

It makes her tense up hard for a second, she don’t generally like people touching her anywhere she keeps covered by clothes, it’s why she always wears long sleeves if she can help it. A force of habit from her childhood. Still, feeling the knots get worked out of her muscles feels good despite the pain of it. She forces herself to relax. Daryl ain’t trying to hurt her. He’s just returning the favor. Ain’t no reason for her to fuckin’ get weird about it.

Then he gets a really hard knot out and she makes a quiet noise of relief and his hands freeze on her back. Coretta opens her mouth to apologize, but his hands are already digging into her back again as if she didn’t make the sound at all. She gets the feeling he’s trying to make her make that noise again if the way he’s working a bit harder at the many fuckin’ knots in her back is any indication. He finds another huge knot and once again Coretta can’t help the soft noise she makes. He doesn’t pause this time, just keeps at it until the knot is worked away. It goes on this way until her muscles feel a bit like jelly and she really doesn’t want to move.

Daryl’s hands rest on either side of her spine for a moment longer before withdrawing and his voice is rougher than usual as he breaks the silence, “Should get some rest, got a lot of work ta do tomorrow.”

Coretta knows a dismal when she hears one and forces herself to get up, “Sleep well, Dixon.”

He makes an unintelligible noise back as she walks to her cell, pausing to check on her sons again. She has to shove Red down her bed for space. After that massage and the high stress of the day, Coretta just wants to flop down and not move for awhile. She’ll risk sleeping with a possible fuckin’ concussion. She’s too tired and relaxed to fuckin’ care.

Chapter Text

There’s less walkers at the fence than usual since Jesse’s bomb went off. The noise had called ‘em all off for awhile. Coretta knows it’s temporary, but it’s still nice to only see a few trying to get through the prison fence. She’s up in the watchtower for her shift and bored out of her mind. Only an hour left before Glenn takes over though. She passes the time by watching Rick, Michonne, and a handful of others work on making some kind of spike things around the gate entrance to keep Walkers away. It’s going to take days for that to be done, but Coretta can recognize the necessity.

Daryl and Jesse have gone off to go see if Woodbury is overrun or not. Apparently, Daryl wants to look for survivors and Rick wants to know if Andrea is alive. Coretta thinks Jesse just wants to see the aftermath of his little explosion, but she ain’t gonna mention that. She knows that would start some shit and her head still hurts a bit too much for her to want to deal with that shit. Coretta ain’t sure what they’re gonna find in Woodbury, but she hopes at the very least, the Governor’s corpse will be up and walking around. Would make life much simpler.

Coretta’s eyes move back towards the tree line. Occasionally a walker will stagger out, but she don’t have to do much. The team outside building the defenses handles it quickly enough. She’s bored out of her mind and wants something else to do. Watch is always boring unless something has gone monumentally wrong. Supposed to be boring, as much as she hates it, boring means a good shift.

By the time Glenn comes to relieve her from watch, Coretta’s practically bouncing off the walls with the strength of her desire to find something else to do. It’s obvious enough that Glenn is laughing at her as she practically launches herself down the ladder to freedom. He calls down to her as she hits the ground, “Hey! I’m planning a run in a day or two, wanna come?”

Coretta blinks up at him, she doesn’t go on runs often. She grins though at the opportunity to be of use, “Sure thing, anything we’re lookin’ for?”

“Food, medicine, ammo, more formula, the usual,” He answers as he checks over the gun they keep in the watch tower at all times.

Coretta nods and gives him a thumbs up as she heads back to the cellblock to check her sons before finding other things to do. Beth has the baby in her arms and Keston is sounding out words from one of the children’s books he has for her. Mason is harder to find. She ends up finding him pestering Merle in what looks like some kinda workshop thing.

“Why ya got a knife arm?” Her son sounds determined to get answers as she pauses a little ways away and listens.

“‘Cause I ain’t got a hand, kid, It’s damn useful,” Merle sounds like he can’t decide if he’s annoyed with her son or not.

“Ya ever stab yerself with it? I messed up once an’ had ta get stitches ‘cause I cut myself with a knife an’ it weren’t even stuck ta my arm,” Mason tells the man matter-of-factly.

“I look like an idiot ta ya? ‘Course I ain’t stab myself,” Merle definitely sounds like he has no idea how to react to her son’s attention.

“Momma says everyone’s an idiot. So yer probably one too,” Mason retorts.

“Boy, ain’t anyone ever teach ta silence is golden? Yer mouth gonna get yer hide tanned,” Merle snaps.

“Ain’t scared. Only Momma does that. She don’t like people doin’ it for her,” Mason says it like he don’t mind gambling on her tanning his hide. Which she knows is bullshit.

“Where is yer pretty momma? Shouldn’t ya be clingin’ ta her skirt instead of botherin’ me?” Merle about jumps on the chance to get Mason to leave.

“Dunno. She’ll find me. How’d ya lose yer hand?” Mason sounds fascinated by Merle’s hand.

Coretta decides to step forward at that and call out, “Mason, leave him alone. Ain’t yer business how a man’s lost a hand.”

Mason grins a shit eating grin at the older man, “Told ya she’d find me.”

Merle is digging through a box of random parts and gives her son an irritated look, “Good, now get outta my hair.”

Coretta raises an eyebrow, “Ya heard the man, baby, lets go.”

Mason comes trotting over, “Where we goin’?”

“Gonna find Miss Carol, see if she needs any help with anything. Maybe ya can play with Sophia and Carl.”

“When ya gonna take me huntin’?” Mason has been desperate to get out of the prison and hunt with her.

“Soon, gotta make sure things are safe first,” Coretta answers easily as she leads him back to the cellblock.

“Daryl gonna come?”

“Thought ya ain’t like Daryl no more,” Coretta drawls.

“Yeah, but he hunts with ya, Momma,” Mason sounds like he doesn’t like that one bit.

“True enough,” Coretta concedes as they search for Carol.

“Ya still his friend?”

“Sure am, why?” She smiles at Beth as they walk by. The sweet girl gives her a happy wave back.

“He left, didn’t even say bye,” Mason sounds irritated.

“To be with his brother. If it were ya an’ Keston, y’all’d’ve done the same thing. He came back, remember?” Coretta points out.

Mason scowls at the ground, “Still left. Like Daddy used ta do when he were mad.”

“And he always came back, didn’t he?” Coretta doesn’t like that her son remembers the times Wade had stormed out after a fight. It’d only happened a handful of times, and only once or twice while Mason was home from school, but still.

“But it made ya cry. Did Daryl make ya cry too?”

“No, baby, Daryl didn’t make me cry,” Coretta tells him.

“Good,” Mason sounds extremely satisfied that Daryl hadn’t done that.

Coretta finds Carol doing inventory of the food stocks and greets her lazily, “Hey, need help with anythin’?”

“No, just running through rations. We’re low. Maybe enough for a week, two if we really stretch it,” Carol sounds concerned as she answers.

“Mason, go play with Sophia and Carl,” Coretta ushers her son off before turning to Carol, “There’s a supply run soon. Could go huntin’ too. What are we short on?”

“What aren’t we short on is the better question. Canned green beans and those MRE meals are about all we’ll have if we don’t get more soon,” Carol shakes her head and sighs, “This Woodbury business hasn’t been easy on our supplies. Runs have been too risky to go on and hunting isn’t much better. Are you going on the next run? Glenn mentioned he was going to see if you could.”

“Yeah, I am. Need me ta look for anythin’?” Coretta offers as she takes in their meager food stores.

“Honestly? Anything edible at this point. We can’t afford to be picky right now,” Carol purses her lips as she works on planning rations out, “Maybe we can raid Woodbury if it’s been overrun.”

“Guess we’ll see when Daryl and Jesse get back,” Coretta sighs and stops eyeing how little food they have. Fourteen people eat a lot, “Could always eat the dogs, worst come ta worst.”

Carol gives her a look, “We aren’t eating the dogs. Keep making that joke and you’re going to start worrying people.”

Coretta grins, “Only a joke until we ain’t had food for a week. Then roasted dog is gonna start soundin’ real good.”

“Coretta, stop,” Carol laughs at her.

“I think I’m funny,” Coretta shrugs carelessly.

“I’m sure you do. Gonna upset the children with your jokes though. They love those dogs,” Carol points out.

“Daryl would be more pissed, he hates the dog eatin’ jokes,” She sets to work washing dishes.

“All the more reason not to joke like that,” Carol comments lightly, “Heard you talking to him the other night.”

“Rude ta eavesdrop,” Coretta murmurs as she rolls her sleeves up just enough to keep them dry, she figures Carol won’t comment if she sees the faded cigarette burns covering her forearms. Woman is discreet like that.

“Oh, I didn’t hear much, you’re pretty quiet when you want to be. Did hear you say he was a good man,” Carol gives her a goodnatured look that tells her the woman wants details.

“‘Cause he is,” Coretta focuses on the dish she’s scrubbing clean.

“You spend a lot of time with him,” Carol continues lightly.

“Yeah?” Coretta don’t like the strange tone in Carol’s voice. Like she’s getting at something and is tickled pink about it.

“He’s friendliest to you, you know,” Carol says it like it means something.

“Ain’t sure I’d call it friendly,” She points out warily.

“I would. He doesn’t bite your head off and he responds to most of what you say to him. Not everyone gets that,” Carol is definitely trying to get to something.

“Yer point?” Coretta figures biting the bullet is the best course of action.

“Just wondering if it’s mutual, is all,” Carol gives her a small, mischievous smile.

“If what’s mutual?” Coretta should have found someone else to help out. Clearly Carol is out of her fuckin’ mind.

“Well, he gave you that bracelet. Just wondering if you like him too,” Carol sounds like she’s having a great time putting Coretta on the spot.

“Like him? What is this? Middle school?” Coretta shoots the woman a weak glare.

“No need to be defensive, it’s okay to be interested in someone other than your husband, you know. I’m sure he’d want you to be happy,” Carol gives her a kind look.

Coretta just scrubs harder on a new dish, “Dunno what yer gettin’ at.”

“Yes, you do,” Carol sing songs lightly as she keeps scribbling away on her rations sheet.

“Ma’am, ya need yer head checked. Yer outta yer mind, he ain’t in ta me, we’re just friends, s’all,” Coretta wants to sink into the floor.

“You aren’t denying that you’re into him,” Carol points out immediately, “You know, you’d be good together. And he’s good with the boys.”

Coretta is never going to be alone with Carol again. The woman is clearly the devil. This is fuckin’ proof. She just scrubs harder, “Ain’t ya got better things ta do than look for gossip?”

“Not really. When no one could find you and your brother, Daryl about had a fit, you know. Then Merle disappeared and I swear the man’s head was going to explode,” Carol says it like she’s talking about the weather.

“I ain’t surprised, man chewed my ass out over it,” Coretta wrinkles her nose at the memory.

“He was scared, I think. That he was going to lose his brother and you all at once,” Carol tells her gently.

Coretta doesn’t respond to that. Don’t know how to. So she just focuses on washing dishes. Carol gets the message, she supposes, and doesn’t say anything else. Coretta appreciates that about the woman. She knows when to stop pushing things. Knows when she’s made whatever point she wants to make and doesn’t feel the need to keep going. Coretta likes that about the older woman. Even if she pokes around for gossip sometimes. Ain’t like there’s much else to do.

Chapter Text

Jesse and Daryl come back grim faced. They explain shortly that Woodbury is overrun, but it looked like they managed to evacuate based on the fact that, according to Jesse, the buses they had were gone and so where a lot of the rations the place had. Whether that means Woodbury is abandoned entirely or only until its inhabitants regroup and get their shit together, they don’t know. It puts everyone on edge not knowing.

They didn’t find the Governor either. They don’t know if Jesse’s bomb blew him up, if the walkers got him, or if he got out safely. They have no way to know. Can’t track a bus on an asphalt road after all. For now, constant watch and periodically checking Woodbury will have to do. Doesn’t mean they aren’t going to strip the empty town of everything they can while they wait and see what happens.

As for Andrea, Daryl’s voice is grim when he announces they found her. As a walker. Locked up in the same room Glenn had been tortured in. They’d put her down and brought the body back in a car they’d found. There’s a very brief discussion over what to do that ends in the solemn decision to bury her with the rest of their people. The funeral is quick and Coretta pays more attention to the fence and the few walkers gathered around it than the eulogy. She’s never liked funerals. Would prefer not to attend them if she could avoid it. At this point, she’s not even sure there’s a reason for funerals. Death happens so often nowadays. She thinks funerals probably lose their meaning when they happen constantly. They definitely lose their fuckin’ importance. Used to be a whole thing. Now it’s just dig a fuckin’ hole, drop a body in, say a word or two and move the fuck on. Coretta don’t think anyone in the group even cries at fuckin’ funerals anymore. Hell, she can’t even remember the last time a funeral really felt like anything other than a waste of time better spent trying to fuckin’ survive.

As it is, the group returns to fortifying the prison, preparing for the next run and just trying to live a little longer. Coretta ends up helping try to figure out the security breach of a hole in the administration building. It’s a massive fucking hole. They don’t have the materials to fix it in a way that matters. Sheet metal might work. Wood won’t hold against too big a herd. Or people who really want in. They need to find scrap sheet metal. Thank god that ain’t hard to find in the apocalypse. There’s plenty of shit like that left lying around these days. Won’t be enough to patch it all the way up to the top, but they can build it high enough that people won’t be able climb it. It’s going to take time.

They want to build a place to keep watch there too. More places to have eyes, the more secure their home is. It’s a simple as that. Turn a security problem into an asset. Coretta ain’t sure it’ll work, ain’t sure they’ll ever have the people to man more it and the gate and the watchtower and keep doing everything else, but it’s a hopeful thing almost. Like one day there will be the people for it. Coretta can appreciate that about it, aside from the practicality of the thing. Jesse has taken over the planning pretty fuckin’ quickly. Man had worked construction on and off when he was sober. Had been damn good at it when he weren’t methed out. Shame it took the apocalypse to keep him that way.

They stick to the planning for now, they’ll need materials before they can actually do anything. For now, they settle for locking all the gates and doors between there and the parts of the prison they’re utilizing. No reason to make it easy for anyone they don’t want around dropping in for a visit. As it is, they need people too. There’s power in numbers. More people means better chances even if it means they need more resources. More people is more hands to build this place. More eyes to guard it. Coretta ain’t a fan of people, but she knows what a valuable commodity is. Knows the value of being able to throw bodies at a problem. She ain’t gonna be on the welcoming committee when they start bringing new people in, but she ain’t gonna be giving them the cold shoulder either. Ain’t no use in that.

Daryl wants to keep hunting for the Governor and his people. So does Michonne. And since Daryl is gonna be hunting for the psycho, Merle is on the witch hunt too. Coretta ain’t interested in it. So long as the fucker ain’t bothering them no more, she don’t give a shit where the man is. He just needs to stay gone.

Rick and Hershel are planning to start a whole fuckin’ farm once the defenses are finished. Coretta figures that means they’ll be hitting up a fuckin’ home improvement store for some fuckin’ seeds or some shit on the next run. Gonna need a whole fuckin’ shit load of the damn things. Coretta don’t know fuck all about growing shit either. So she ain’t sure what shit would even fuckin’ grow, much less feed people. She really don’t wanna get stuck on farming detail. She’ll leave that shit to the Greene’s and Rick.

Coretta ends up back on babysitter duty like she was on the farm when she’s not hunting. Which means when Beth is busy, Coretta is in charge of the baby too. Sophia, Keston, and the baby. Since Carl and Mason are able to help with some of more basic things, like killing walkers at the fence or helping open and close the gates. Sophia has started helping too. Mostly chores like laundry and cooking while her skills with the weaponry is worked on. Coretta has to adjust to having a baby in her arms again while she keeps one eye on Keston and the dogs and another on their surroundings. She takes to it easily enough. Ain’t like she hasn’t had two babies of her own. Carrying the tiny thing around in a makeshift sling she made outta an old bedsheet makes it easier. Keeps her hands free in case she needs to do something. She’d had one, a real one, before, when Keston was a baby. Made it easy to keep up with Mason while caring for baby Keston. Makes it easy to keep up with Keston and Sophia while taking care of Judith now.

More than once, she ends up singing softly to the baby as she cares for her. The same thing she does for her boys. The thing she only does for her boys. She ignores the way everyone clearly knows she’s getting attached to the baby, something she’d been avoiding since it’s birth, if she were honest. Not because she don’t like the kid, but ‘cause she don’t have the energy to worry about her and her boys and everything else. Babysitting her has essentially ruined that fuckin’ situation. Coretta has cared for her for a minimal amount of time, but she’d probably have a fuckin’ meltdown if this kid dies. She blames the fact she misses when her boys were this small entirely for this shit.

Glenn calling her out to the courtyard to get ready for their run is a godsend. She don’t even care where the run is to. She just wants to go to work and feel useful. Watching the kids is wonderful and she loves spending time with her sons, but the walkers from Woodbury are crawling all over the fuckin’ woods now and she can’t hunt alone, according to the fuckin’ group. This is the most productive fuckin’ thing she can do right now. Glenn, Maggie, Coretta. A small group, but she figures it’s better that way. Less people on a run, less people to worry about. Even if it means less eyes to keep an eye out for trouble.

Chapter Text

There’s a shopping center, ten miles south that Glenn thinks ain’t been hit yet. Got one of those home improvement stores and a Walmart nearby with a couple smaller stores they might be able to hit. If things go well and they work fast anyway. Coretta is quiet most of the drive, it’s a bit awkward third wheeling a run with the couple who has sex fuckin’ every chance they get anywhere they can and sure as shit ain’t discreet about it. It’d be amusing if the watchtower didn’t smell like sex now. She’s gonna find a bottle of fuckin’ air freshener or something for that shit.

Glenn makes the decision they’ll start with Walmart. Food, medicines, soap, clothes, things they need more than building supplies and seeds. He wants those first in case they need to bug out. The parking lot is full of abandoned cars and bodies that have been reduced to little more that mummified husks and bones littering the ground. Coretta can see a handful of Walkers ambling along between the cars, not many, but enough to put her on alert. The stores are going to have more, she’d bet the fuckin’ compound bow on it.

As it is, they plan to go in through the back, where the stored inventory is, and work their way through the Walmart. Clear the building as they go. But first, set a car alarm off at the very back of the fuckin’ parking lot to ideally draw at least some walkers out of the buildings and away from what they need. Coretta gets the dubious honor of the drive-by alarm triggering.

Glenn drives the van real slow down the parking lot lanes to the back and circles around. He wants to get her as close to the chosen car as possible. Wants to minimize the risk factor that’s inherently involved in runs as best he can. It’s part of why Glenn is in charge of most runs. He’s good at them and he’s good at bringing everyone back from them. No one else is as good at making successful runs as he is.

Coretta eyes the filthy, bright blue sedan carefully as they slow to a crawl about fifteen feet from it. She doubts it’s the kind with a good alarm. Probably one of those stupid beeping alarms instead of the good headache inducing kind. She don’t have a rock to break the fucking window with so she gets to crawl under the fuckin’ car like she’s stealing it and fiddle with wires and shit until it goes off. She ain’t exactly thrilled by this plan, but it needs doing.

Glenn and Maggie are tense in the front seats as they keep eyes on the walkers ambling around a good distance away. None of them have grown interested in their van yet. Coretta counts out four on the other side of the sedan, far enough away she can make it to the sedan, close enough that she’s gonna be trying to beat the fuckin’ clock once she gets out of the van. Coretta has her handgun and her knife ready, her bow and quiver will stay in the van for this part. Makes getting around easier. As much as she don’t like it.

“Alright, get in, get out, you ready?” Maggie’s voice is tight as her eyes scan the area.

“Ready when y’all are. Don’t leave me behind,” Coretta keeps her voice light and joking even as her hand grips the door handle and her whole body goes tense in anticipation.

“Now,” Glenn calls it out sharply, an order that she ain’t dumb enough to disobey.

She don’t let herself think further. Don’t let herself second guess. Just flings herself outta the damn van and hauls absolute fuckin’ ass to that sedan. She focuses on her breathing, her feet hitting asphalt, her muscles working, instead of the mild, instinctive fear she feels knowing she’s out in the open with Walkers nearby. She hisses in pain when she flings herself under the sedan and her knees scrap painfully against the ground. She can feel the denim over her right knee tear and knows she’s gonna be sporting a nasty scrape on her knee after this. She don’t worry about that though.

Just works faster than she ever has to hot wire a car and do it badly. She ain’t tryin’ to steal it. Just needs to set the alarm off and quick. Wade would be raising fuckin’ Cain if he knew she were hot wiring a car with the intention of setting the alarm off. He’d be fuckin’ appalled. But he ain’t here and it’s the end of the world and she needs this done. It don’t take long before the alarm is going off. Not as pathetic as she expected, but it ain’t quite the ear piercing noise she likes. It don’t matter. Time to bug the fuck out.

She scrambles out from under the car and pauses long enough to confirm the Walkers in the parking lot and the buildings have noticed the commotion. They have. There’s a lot fuckin’ more than she thought. She’s running again before she can fuckin’ think. Maggie and Glenn are both yelling at her to hurry up. She don’t need to be told twice as she spots a pair of Walkers out of the corner of her eye that are too damn close for comfort.

Coretta ain’t much of a sprinter. Better at long, slow runs than hauling ass, but she’s hauling ass now. She practically slams face first into the door of the van as she reaches it in her haste to get the fuck inside. Glenn is gunning it before her door is even closed and she just has to lay in the fuckin’ backseat and try to slow the pounding of her fuckin’ heart for a second. There’s more adrenaline that is probably healthy running through her, even though that went off without a hitch. Kinda feels like she snorted coke or some shit.

“Hey! Hey, you good? You’re bleedin’,” Maggie has turned around to look at her and is eyeing her bleeding knee with worry.

Coretta raises one hand and gives her a thumbs up, “Ain’t bit, scraped knee is all.”

Glenn laughs like a maniac, she thinks he genuinely likes runs on some level, not that she’ll point that one out, “That was perfect, should draw them all out there.”

“Hell yeah,” Coretta raises her leg up to get a good look at her knee. No wonder Maggie seemed worried. It’s easily the nastiest scraped knee she’s ever had. Looks deep as fuck for what it is. Bleeding heavy too. Well, shit, if she ends up needing stitches for a fuckin’ scraped knee she’s gonna be fuckin’ embarrassed. Jesse gonna give her so much damn shit for it.

Glenn slows down as they pull around to the back of the Walmart by the unloading docks. Coretta ignores the stinging of her knee and throws her quiver over her shoulder and grabs her bow as she waits for Glenn to give the go ahead to move in. There’s one or two Walkers lingering back here that look like they’re trying to follow the siren. They’re just too fuckin’ stupid to know how. It’s kinda funny in an absurd, morbid way, watching them bump into the wall of the building.

Glenn takes lead as they go in the building, staying silent and hypersensitive to any noise as they go. Coretta has an arrow nocked to her bow as they move through the back rooms. There’s more back here than she expected as they start to cut open boxes and plastic wrapped stacks of shit. Guess the general public forgot there’s a storage area in these kinda stores. Finding shit is easy, finding what they need it harder. The back room is a bit confusing and it takes a time to cut open boxes and the forklift ain’t working so they can’t reach the ones on the higher up shelves anyway. So they hunt through what they can reach. Coretta finds a cart just outside of the door to the actual store and drags it inside the back. It fills up quick with random shit they needed. Some toilet paper, some paper towels, Maggie finds some batteries, Glenn finds canned corn and what looks like instant pancake mix and drops those in. Coretta grins like a loon when she finds a whole shit ton of tampons. The women have been running low on these and since she ran outta her birth control and they ain’t starving anymore, Coretta ain’t an exception to that particular issue anymore. She never thought the sight of fuckin’ tampons would give her so much fuckin’ joy. She ends up calling Maggie over to help her load as many of the boxes in as they can. Girl seems just as thrilled by the find as Coretta and they’re practically skipping as they take those to the cart.

They need medicine too though. And that’s in the fuckin’ pharmacy. At the front of the damn store. So once Glenn is satisfied with their haul so far, and they throw it all in the van, they make for the front. Weapons ready and walking slow the whole way. Maggie has the cart, Incase they hit another jackpot, and Coretta is damn pleased it’s one of the only good ones these damn places ever seem to have. Ain’t a single squeaky wheel. She ain’t sure why her luck is better in the fuckin’ apocalypse than it was before, but she ain’t complaining. So long as the damn cart stays good, she’s gonna be fuckin’ happy.

They pause in the clothing and shoes sections, throwing things in with little care as to the look or sizes. Someone in the fuckin’ prison will be able to wear ‘em, and the clothes no one fits in can be cut up for rags and curtains and bandages and shit. They’ve gotten creative with resources. Ain’t nothing worthless in the apocalypse. The shoes are more of a gamble, less to be repurposed for if they don’t fit anybody, but still, better take ‘em and not need ‘em than need ‘em and not take ‘em. That’s basically their motto on runs.

They slow when they get to the front, there’s twenty or so walkers trying to force themselves out the closed, no longer working, automatic doors. The smell and noise is hair raising after so many near death experiences involving the nasty fuckers. Gets the blood flowing a little faster than normal as they do their best to quietly sneak past without attracting their attention. It works. Kinda. The smell of  Coretta’s still steadily bleeding knee draws their attention. Coretta makes a split second decision and splits from her people as the walkers turn at the smell of fresh blood. Damn things move slow and as much as her knee hurts, she can keep outta their reach. Glenn hisses as her not to, but it’s the best plan she has and she just hisses back angrily to go find medicine and she’ll meet them at the fuckin’ van.

As it is, she starts whistling at the Walkers and making sure they see her movements as her friends curse and go on without her. They trust her to not get herself killed and she trusts them to find what they need. Ain’t their fault she has the mother of all skinned knees right now. Coretta swallows her instinctive need to bolt and waits until the walkers are within a few feet of her before turning and jogging back, pausing and turning to let them catch up again. They’re all riled up as they chase her through the nasty smelling food section that’s full of empty shelves and rotten meats. Coretta forces herself to jog instead of sprint. Keeps herself just out of their reach even as the fuckers start shuffling a little faster.

It ain’t a good time, but she has to let Maggie and Glenn make it back to the van first. She ain’t about to block their exit with a herd of fuckin’ walkers. That’d be a fuckin’ dick move. So she focuses on her breathing and her legs moving and the feel of her feet hitting earth as she gets the herd to follow her in a nice little circuit around the fuckin’ building. Her knee hurts like a bitch and it’s sending shocks of pain up her leg every time she bends it and her poor, cigarette abused lungs are burning, but she keeps going until she hears Maggie call her name from the entrance to the storage area.

Coretta don’t need to head another thing. Just stretches her legs out and takes off running for where her people are. Glenn and Maggie are standing there like they’re at the finish line of a fuckin’ race or some shit, that damn cart a bit behind them. Coretta is panting when she crosses whatever invisible finish line they have and don’t stop running. Glenn and Maggie take off too, cart being shoved along by Glenn like it’s filled with priceless treasures instead of rags and a few bottles of aspirin. They load the damn van faster than Coretta can catch her breath and Glenn is gunning it again before her or Maggie is ready. Coretta needs to cut the fuckin’ cigarettes back, she feels like she’s damn near suffocating as she tries to catch her breath after that mess.

The fuckin’ Home Depot is next. Coretta narrows her eyes as they pull up to the side of the building they think will have the seeds Rick and Hershel want. Hershel has made a list of seeds and supplies, thank the fuckin’ lord, and Maggie knows about all that farming shit being Hershel’s girl and all. Coretta considers that a fuckin’ godsend, ‘cause aside from the obvious seeds, she don’t know what she’s looking for. She ain’t never bothered trying gardening. Wade had put his foot down the one time she suggested it, said buying flowers and shit to make their shitty little yard pretty was a bigger waste of money than her baking attempts. Coretta hadn’t cared enough about it to push back on his decision. Hadn’t thought it worth the argument. If she’d known the world was gonna go to hell and she was gonna be living in a prison with a sheriff that wanted to farm, maybe she’d‘ve argued back.

This one is easier than Walmart. Less people had thought looting a Home Depot was smarter than looting a Walmart. She don’t have to split from her people and take Walkers on a merry fuckin’ chase this time. Maggie handles the seed packets while she and Glenn go looking for building supplies. Coretta grabs boxes and boxes of nails and drops them all in a shitty kids backpack she found in Walmart. Glenn appears with planks of wood balanced precariously on his shoulder. Coretta has to duck a little to avoid another concussion with the way he swings those damn things around every time he changes direction. She ain’t sure how they’re getting that back to the prison. Probably gonna have to strap those to the roof of the van. Maggie is grinning when she shows them the packets of seeds she found. Now they just need those bags of fertilizer. Coretta ain’t gonna let Jesse near that shit. Rick said no more bombs. That shit is flammable enough that she fears for the prison if Jesse has access to it when he’s pissed. Especially if him and Merle find meth in any of the fuckin’ mattresses. She knows they’ve been hunting. Pair of dumb fuck addicts that they are.

They get their loot shoved into the van before going to get the fertilizer. As many bags as they can fit is the official order from Hershel. Glenn thinks they can tie six to the roof and shove two more bags into the back of the van. Coretta takes his word for it. Worst comes to worst, they gotta leave a bag or two behind. Coretta’s knee stings but it ain’t bleeding anymore as she grabs one of the fertilizer bags they find and grunts under its weight. She has to put her bow on top of the bag to carry everything. Gonna take more than one trip to get all the bags Glenn wants and every second added is another second them walkers could get bored with the damn car alarm she set off. She ain’t much interested in hauling ass again. She’s still trying to fuckin’ recover from the Walmart experience. If she gotta run with a bag of fertilizer in her arms, she may just lay down and let the damn walkers take her. Save her the pointless effort of running that way. They get lucky again, no Walkers come their way and they leave with seven of the eight bags of fertilizer Glenn had wanted.

It’s one of the best runs they’d ever had. Definitely in the top three for the sheer amount of shit they found. And no one died. Coretta don’t even mind the fact her knee looks like someone took a damn cheese grater to it then stabbed her with a dull knife in the middle of the mess. They got everything on their list and then some and they didn’t even have to waste bullets. If only Glenn didn’t feel the need to lecture her on safety and recklessness on the drive home because she took a herd of walkers on a walk in fuckin’ Wally-world. Coretta just grins lazily and reminds him she ain’t dead so clearly it works and very politely asks him not to mention it to anyone and she won’t let Jesse near the fertilizer. It’s a fair trade, she thinks. She don’t need anymore lectures and no one needs Jesse getting his hands on fertilizer.  A fair deal and a good run. Coretta is fuckin’ content.

Chapter Text

It’s a week after the run that Coretta starts contemplating the benefits of being an only child. For one single reason: Jesse found cocaine and left it by her bunk with a little scrawled note saying, enjoy. Coretta fuckin’ hates her brother sometimes. She really does. He knows what her drug of choice was as a teenager. When she didn’t care about anything but partying and making sure Hunter didn’t get beat by their daddy because she wasn’t there to take it in his place. Even though Jesse blew in and outta town like a summer thunderstorm once he turned eighteen and took off, he knew shit like that.

The fact that now, years later, when it’s the end of the world and she’s got two young children to look after, he’s gifting her mattress-found cocaine? Well, it makes her want to beat him with a fuckin’ tire iron. She ain’t touched the stuff since she learned she was carrying Mason in her belly. One of the hardest fuckin’ things she’s ever done and he’s just presented her an opportunity to throw about nine, nearly ten, years of being coke-free out the fuckin’ window. She’s gonna murder her brother in front of God and everyone.

She ain’t stupid. She knows she’s addicted. Knows addiction ain’t something that goes away just ‘cause someone makes the effort to stop indulging the addiction. Ain’t something that goes away just ‘cause she ain’t touched it in years. She’s gotten good at ignoring her cravings for the shit. Cutting herself off from her dealers and the people that used the shit with her had helped before. Wade had never liked her doing the shit and that had helped too. Now, two kids and the end of the world is a damn good distraction when she wants the shit. She ain’t proud of the fact she’s missed the stuff. Ain’t even sure why she likes it. It just numbs her face and makes her nose burn and makes her talk fast, and it’s a short fuckin’ high, but she does like it. It makes her chatty and friendly, but it makes her volatile as fuck too. She remembers how it was. She knows how she fuckin’ is.

She knows she don’t really want to take the fuckin’ shit, but it’s in a nice little baggie just waiting to be used and her boys are downstairs working on improving their math skills with Carol last she checked and Coretta can’t stop staring at the fuckin’ bag of white powder. She don’t want it, but she don’t wanna get rid of it either. Coretta ain’t sure what to do other than possibly murder her brother. This is the kinda shit that makes her want to throw things at him. The kinda shit that nearly made her call the cops on him once when Mason was two.

She could find a piece of paper or a dollar somewhere. Roll it up into a nice little straw. Find herself a mirror or something similar to pour it out on. She could use her knife or something to make lines with. Could just take a bump too. Hell, she could just rub it on her gums. She could do any of that before anyone was the wiser. She fuckin’ knows she could. A nice little thirty minute high and the lazy, relaxed feeling she gets when it ends. She misses that shit. She could do it and no one but her would know.

Meth is Jesse’s drug of choice, Coke is hers. Hunter had been the only one of them who wouldn’t touch anything stronger than weed. The good Claire kid. The one with an actual future. If Daddy hadn’t killed him, that is. Coretta had pulled her shit together for Mason, then kept it together for him and Keston. The fact she’s damn near itching to take a line of coke now that she can is driving her mad. She don’t want to ruin almost a decade of not touching the shit.

Cigs and alcohol have been all she’s had in years, but Jesse is an ass at worst, probably thought he was being nice at best, and now she’s got a not insignificant-sized bag on coke in her hands. Nearly two grams of the shit if she had to guess. She ain’t sure where exactly he found it, but it’s in her hands and she can’t put it down. Coretta can’t stop thinking about how fuckin’ badly she wants just one line, one bump, one fuckin’ gummy of the shit. She’s fighting a battle she ain’t sure she’s winning as she turns the bag over in her hands over and over.

Coretta paces the short length of her cell, coke in her hands as she runs through every reason she has not to do it. It’s only Rick calling her name from downstairs that’s enough to make her toss the bag in her box of alcohol and cigarettes and walk out without taking it. She forces herself to focus on what’s happening instead.

Forces herself to listen as Rick tells her Mason and Carl thought clearing the damn library by themselves was a good idea. Listens and glares down at her son as he stares at the ground and shuffles his feet. Ignores Carl arguing with Rick over it. Ignores Merle and Jesse making comments and the way everyone else is trying to tell her son how he fucked up as her silence stretches on. Keston is watching her from where he’s standing by Beth and the baby and his eyes are all big and shit and she knows her anger is showing on her face.

She manages to ground out, quieter than she normally does, “Yer cell, now.”

“Momma—“ mason tries to speak.

“Now.” She ain’t in the mood. She ain’t sure what the boy was thinking pulling that shit and she ain’t interested in whatever bullshit excuses he’s gonna come up with.

She’s silent as she watches him slink up the stairs all slow like a beaten dog. Good. Boy should know better by now. He knows the rules and what is and isn’t allowed. This shit ain’t gonna fuckin’ work. Her eyes settle on Keston, “Well? Get up there too. Now.”

Keston jerks a little and glances around like someone is gonna intercede, but darts up the stairs after his brother when she cocks an eyebrow at him. Coretta lights a cigarette out of habit and takes a drag as the boys disappear into the cell. She’ll let Mason stew a moment. Keston ain’t in trouble, but he can learn from watching what happens when Mason pulls dumbass stunts.

Jesse draws her attention as Rick drags Carl off to lecture somewhere, “Hope ya put the cig out before goin’ up there. Ya got a look on yer face I ain’t a fan of.”

Coretta knows exactly what he’s referring to and she don’t like it one bit, “My kids, Jesse, stay the fuck outta it.”

She ignores the wary glances everyone else sends her way as she starts searching the cellblock for spare rope. She’s got an idea. Since Mason wants to be running wild. She ain’t above using a damn leash on her kid if that’s what it takes to keep him from doing dumb shit.

“Um, whatcha doin’ with the rope?” Jesse sounds like he’s not sure what to make of the sight of her walking by with a decent length of rope.

“Hell ya think?” She gives him a nasty look as she heads up the stairs with the rope. Daryl looks like he wants to say something when she breezes past him but changes his mind.

She puts the cigarette out before going into her kids’ cell. Mason is standing awkwardly by the bunks while Keston is crosslegged on his bunk with Molly-dog and Red. She purses her lips as she looks over her oldest son, “I wanna know why. Don’t ya dare lie.”

Mason looks like a deer in headlights for a second, all that anger and belligerence he uses around everyone else completely gone now that it’s just them. Those big blue eyes bounce between her and the rope before he starts talking fast, “Me an’ Carl just wanted ta help. Y’all ain’t been clearin’ lately ‘cause y’all gotta worry ‘bout the Governor guy and y’all keep talkin’ bout how it ain’t safe ‘til the whole prison’s clear an’ me and Carl knew we could do it.”

Coretta’s eyes narrow, “Y’all help by not gettin’ yerselves killed. By doin’ the chores we tell ya ta do. Ya help by watchin’ over yer lil’ brother. Ya ain’t helpin’ when ya run off like fools an’ try ta get bit.”

“We weren’t tryin’ ta get bit! Used ta let us help all the time! Used ta, I’d get ta hunt with ya or Daryl! And clear places! Gotta help with watch too! Now y’all don’t let us do anythin’!” Mason finds his voice and his anger and glares fiercely up at her.

Coretta is unmoved by her son’s anger, “That was then, when we weren’t in the prison an’ we all had ta work if we wanted ta live. Y’all ain’t gotta do that no more. Ya wanna be helpful? Don’t do shit that’s gonna make us have ta dig child-sized graves. Both y’all come here.”

Keston looks like he’s trying to figure out how he got dragged into his brother’s mess as he hops off the bed and approaches her. Mason’s gaze is bouncing between her and the rope and Keston and she can see he’s connecting dots, “Momma, can’t ya just tan my hide?”

She’d be laughing if she weren’t so annoyed, “Seems ta me, ya ain’t bothered by that no more. ‘Sides, think the message’ll sink in better this way.”

Coretta loops the rope around Keston’s waist and makes sure it ain’t gonna chafe or nothing and it ain’t gonna come loose before tying the rest to Mason, “Yer one job has always been lookin’ out for yer brother. ‘Til I trust ya again, Yer gonna stick ta him like glue. I know ya ain’t gonna go chasing after Carl in ta dumb situations if ya got Keston with ya. Don’t ya dare try untying it, ya hear me?”

Mason looks mutinous, “But, Momma—“

“No, don’t wanna hear it. Keston, ya be sweet ta yer brother, don’t need ya givin’ him too hard a time,” She smiles a little at the little boy.

Keston clearly doesn’t see how this could be a bad thing. He adores spending time with Mason and beams brightly at her, “I’ll be good!”

“I know ya will,” She turns her eyes back on Mason, “Y’all gonna be like this for a week. After that, if I think ya learned yer lesson, I’ll see ‘bout lettin’ ya help some with watch, alright? Ain’t wrong ta wanna help, is wrong ta do what ya did though.”

Mason glares, “Can’t ya just whoop me?”

“Sure can’t,” Coretta kisses both of them on the foreheads before stepping out of their cell to give them time to adjust to their new situation.

She leans on the railing and lights another cigarette, sighing at the fact that’s the last on in this pack. She has to slow down if she wants them to last. She ain’t ‘bout to add cigs to list of shit she wants from runs. Not unless she’s going on the run herself. Ain’t a necessity, ain’t worth risking other people for. She blows out smoke and listens to the sound of her boys bickering in their cell. She takes an inhale as Daryl comes over to lean on the railing with her, “Ya tan his hide?”

She blows smoke out and grins, “Nah. Tied him ta Keston.”

That gets a raised eyebrow, “Why?”

“He ain’t gonna go doin’ dumb shit with Keston tied ta him,” Coretta explains easily, “If ya want a cig, yer free ta go get one outta my stash, y’know where it is.”

Daryl seems to consider it, “Might in a bit. Jesse looked like he thought ya were gonna string Mason up.”

“Jesse thinks I got Daddy’s temper. He worries one day I’mma beat ‘em,” Coretta shakes her head, “It’s why he ain’t ever had kids, too scared of turnin’ out like our old man ta risk it.”

“And ya weren’t?” Daryl drawls.

“‘Course I was. This old bitch I worked for, Her name was Holly-Anne. She knew my family, ‘cause Daddy used ta drink at her bar ‘fore she banned him. Gave me a job workin’ the bar for her at nights. When I was pregnant with Mason, I had some kinda freak out over it on my break, this old bitch just told me ‘Girl, get yer shit together, fact yer so scared of turnin’ out like yer old man already means yer gonna be better’n him. All ya gotta do is not be the thing yer baby has ta survive.’ Swear I took ta that like God himself came down from heaven and said it himself.” Coretta can still remember that woman’s harsh voice telling her that while she cried back where the customers couldn’t see her. Just don’t be the thing her kids have to survive. She’d clung hard to that advice over the years. She likes to think she’s managed it so far.

Daryl nods a little, “Sounds like she weren’t much for bullshit.”

“Nah, she weren’t the type ta put up with shit, but she looked out for me, ‘specially when I was pregnant. Kept me behind the bar then. Had someone else take drinks ta tables so I didn’t have ta worry ‘bout gettin’ pushed ‘round ‘cause it was a shady fuckin’ bar,” Coretta had enjoyed working there, even though the tips weren’t amazing and drunks hit on her almost nightly until her belly started showing.

Daryl starts chewing his thumb, “Yer man was fine with ya workin’ at some shady bar when ya were knocked up?”

Coretta snorts, “Any money was good money. He didn’t care so long as ain’t nothin’ happened, and I’d sell his ‘shine there when he asked anyway, Holly-Ann didn’t give a damn. ‘Sides what was he gonna do? Make me quit? Cold day in hell when he coulda pulled that miracle outta his ass.”

“So ya were a bartender,” He sounds almost amused by the thought of her makin’ drinks.

“From Thursday ta Saturday I was. Damn good at it too. Favorite drinks ta make were those fruity ass shots that’re all pretty colors and taste like candy. Only ever made those for dumb bitches that were there ‘cause their daddies’ told ‘em not ta go places like that,” Coretta takes another drag off her cigarette and exhales, watching the smoke twist lazily in the air.

“Knew a couple girls like that. Always ended up in over their heads eventually,” Daryl drawls.

“Ain’t shocked by that. How’s yer hunt for Governor Psycho goin’?” Coretta ain’t been keeping up with that mess as much as she should be.

He scowls irritably at the change, and pushes off the railing, “Gonna grab a cig.”

Coretta blows smoke out and gestures lazily to her cell. Guess that’s his way of saying it ain’t going well. Coretta can hear him drag her box out from under her bed and remembers too late the bag of coke in it that she still ain’t sure what to do with. She can hear silence where she should, by now, hear the quiet sound of a lighter coming to life. Coretta watches him storm out of her cell a moment and by her without so much as a glance her way. Coretta ain’t sure why she feels like she should be explaining herself to the man. Ain’t like that situation Jesse so kindly made for her is his business. She don’t have to answer to the man. Still. She feels a bit like she should be.

Chapter Text

She holds onto the coke for three days. Doesn’t take it. Just sits and eyes it when she should be sleeping. Coretta ain’t sure if she wants to throw it out or take it all and the longer she’s got it the harder it is to find the strength to get rid of it. She would drink, but if she drinks, she knows she’ll take it. Won’t even hesitate. So her moonshine becomes as taboo for her as the coke is. Daryl still ain’t speaking to her and she ends up cornering Jesse when he’s checking her truck over to snarl at him for giving her the coke.

“Why’d ya have ta gimme that shit?” Coretta hisses lowly at her brother.

He pauses checking over her engine to glance over at her, “What shit?”

“Y’know exactly what I’m talkin’ ‘bout,” She crosses her arms and glares at her older brother. The brother she loves as much as she hates that did his best by her growing up and has always been one of the worst influences in her life. She knows he’d die for her, she also knows if she ain’t careful, he’ll get her killed somehow.

“Been a while since ya seemed happy, is all. Found that, figured ya could use something ta make ya feel good,” Jesse shrugs and returns to fiddling with her engine like he doesn’t see how fucked it is that he gave her coke when he knows about her addiction issue.

“I ain’t touched that shit since I was eighteen! It’s the fuckin’ apocalypse for fuck’s sake! Ain’t no one fuckin’ happy. Ya ain’t goin’ ‘round givin’ everyone else drugs,” She runs a hand through her hair irritably despite the pain when her fingers catch on a knot.

“Don’t care if any of the rest are happy, just ya and the boys. If that shit makes ya happy, makes ya feel good, an’ it don’t hurt the boys none, take a line or two and enjoy, ain’t no one gotta know,” He sounds like he’s struggling to comprehend her issue. Which he probably is, she knows he wouldn’t turn down meth if she handed him a bag of the shit.

“I quit for the fuckin’ boys. Y’know I can get mean on that shit,” Coretta’s voice goes up an octave even as she tries to keep her voice quiet. Makes her sounds all squeaky and shit.

“If ya don’t want it, give it back,” Jesse says it with a look that’s daring her to do just that.

Coretta falters and doesn’t say a word for a moment, because she ain’t sure she wants to give it back. As much as she don’t want it, she ain’t sure she wants to just give it away. Jesse must understand and he nods a bit, “Thought so. Yer fuckin’ welcome. Now fuck off, tryin’ ta keep this piece of shit runnin’ for ya.”

Coretta wants to rage at her brother. Wants to curse him to hell and back. Wants to cry and demand to know why he couldn’t just think a little more before giving her the coke. Wants to shriek and rage and hurt him. Wants to lash out, but she doesn’t. She knows that tone, the tone he used growing up when he got sick of his little sister trailing after him. It’s the one that means if she pushes, he’ll say vile things that will make her feel like it’s daddy talking to her instead of Jesse and she doesn’t want that. Not when Rick and Carol are within earshot if Jesse raises his voice even slightly. Not when Glenn is still waiting for a reason to kick Jesse to the curb. She swallows her anger and frustration and hurt and just turns and walks silently away.

She walks by everyone and goes up to her boys’ cell. With the rope keeping them attached to each other, they’ve taken to sleeping in Keston’s bed to make life easier on them. They’re both napping and curled up around each other like a litter of puppies. She settles on the edge of the narrow bunk, careful not to disturb their sleeping, and buried her face in her hands. This is all so fucked. She thought the apocalypse would make her addiction issue a thing of the past permanently. Instead, it’s been offered to her on a silver fuckin’ platter by her own fuckin’ brother.

She doesn’t know how long she sits by her sons’ sleeping forms and tries to remind herself that she’s sober for them. Not her. Her sobriety was to be better for them. If she fails now, she fails them. She can’t do that shit. Can’t let herself fuck up now.

She stares at her boys and watches their chests rise and fall with every breathe and how they twitch in their sleep. Watches Keston kick Mason in the thigh and Mason respond in kind without waking up. Even in sleep, her boys are rough on each other. Boys are like that, she supposes. Lord knows, Jesse and Hunter weren’t gentle, though Hunter came closer than anyone one else in their family to the word. Expect maybe Momma, but Coretta ain’t sure she counts considering most of the time she was too depressed to do anything.

Coretta’s leg starts shaking with that frustrated, nervous energy she’s had ever since she saw that bag of coke in her cell and she’s up and out of her sons’ cell in the time it takes her heart to beat. She ends up with her elbows on the railing and watching her group mingle down below her, it’s late enough in the afternoon that most work is done for the day and it’s mostly small chores and watch and dinner being made that’s left. Which means she ain’t gonna find a job time consuming enough to keep her mind off her issue. Coretta’s skin is crawling in that wanting, needy way that she hates because she very much should not want that shit so badly.

She needs an outlet. Needs a job. Needs to be alone so she doesn’t snap at someone and she needs to not be alone because then she probably will end up snorting lines until her heart beats a little bit wrong and she’s overheated and the world is in a sharp funny kinda focus that’s somehow unfocused too. She wants that so fuckin’ badly. She wants that bitter taste in the back of her throat that happens a little bit after each line when the residue drips down the back of her throat from her nasal cavity. It’s the worst taste in the world but it’s good. It’s a little extra high for all it tastes like absolute shit. She wants the high, short as it is, and terrible as it is to have it, she fuckin’ wants it.

It’s the fuckin’ apocalypse. The end of the world. The fuckin’ rapture or some shit. The dead are fuckin’ walking. World has gone to hell in a fuckin’ hand basket. She has cocaine. She could justify taking it as easily as she could argue against it. And it’s a limited fuckin’ supply. Once she’s run through it, it’s gone. Ain’t no more. She can find more cigarettes. Find more alcohol. Hell, she can make shine if she finds the stuff for it. Could probably figure out how to make roll up cigs if she could find the fuckin’ tobacco for it. Can’t make more coke. Getting back on it, just to have to quit again sounds as shitty as it is tempting.

She could do it. Doesn’t want to, but she could. And that’s the problem. There’s nothing really stopping her. Just her. Her reasons are all that’s keeping her from doing that and reasons aren’t a solid thing. They’re ideas and ideas ain’t real. They’re words and feeling in her fuckin’ head. Ain’t nothin’ really stopping her from doing the exact thing she don’t wanna do, but really fuckin’ wants to do.

She vaguely recognizes someone calling out that dinner is ready. Sounds like Beth. Maybe Carol. She’s not paying enough attention to register the difference in voices enough to identify who’s announcing dinner. She’s on autopilot as she wakes the boys and ushers them down the stairs, dogs trailing behind them, to eat. The boys are bickering over where they want to sit and Coretta just shushes them as she hands them plates. Canned corn and rabbit. Not a terrible dinner. Better than nothing, for damn sure. Dinner is a blur of voices and people and Coretta keeps to one and two word answers whenever someone other than her sons speak to her. It’s rude, probably, definitely not normal for her, she tends to talk when spoken to. Just how she is. Not tonight though. Fuck, Daryl is chattier than she is tonight. That’s almost fuckin’ depressing, but she’s so twisted up about the fuckin’ coke that she thinks she’s gonna say something fuckin’ dumb if she lets herself talk more than that. She’s on autopilot as she helps wash dishes after dinner while her boys and Sophia play cards and Carl plays child soldier. She’s on autopilot as she makes a bottle for the baby so Beth doesn’t have to do it while holding the little thing. She’s on autopilot when she gets Glenn and Maggie to let her take the night watch shift. Grabs a pack of her cigarettes from her box and makes a shitty ass cup of coffee from the stale coffee grounds they have and downs it before going down to the watch tower for the night.

She don’t like watch, especially not at night when it’s silent and dark and it ain’t even summer yet so there’s none of the stupid screaming cicadas to break the silence. But it’s better than being alone with her fuckin’ cocaine. She’ll take this over that any fuckin’ day. So she sits up in that watch tower and starts into the night, an unlit cigarette dangling from her lips. Not because she don’t want to light it, but because she’s trying to remind herself that she don’t have to. She don’t need the nicotine. She wants it. Like she wants the cocaine. Addictive personality. She thinks she read about that somewhere. She ain’t sure what it fully entails, but if that’s something she’s got, she wouldn’t be fuckin’ surprised. The fact she ain’t ever drank like her daddy drank is a damn miracle probably.

She twitches, but doesn’t look over when Daryl fuckin’ Dixon joins her up on the watch tower and tosses her his fuckin’ poncho, “S’cold, woman. Gonna freeze yer ass off if ya don’t start wearin’ fuckin’ layers.”

Coretta raises an eyebrow but puts the poncho on without complaint. Her long sleeved t-shirt is wearing thin and it’s still early spring. He ain’t wrong. Gets fuckin’ cold out here at night. She offers him a cigarette silently as he settles beside her and checks his crossbow over in the dark, there’s just enough moonlight that doing that shit is possible.

He takes the cigarette and pulls his own lighter out, lights his and then holds it out to light hers without asking. She inhales out of force of habit. The end of her cigarette burns orange as she pulls it from her lips and blows smoke out in the dark, “Thanks.”

He grunts a little, “Ya usin’?”

Coretta wants to snap on reflex. Wants to tell him it ain’t his fuckin’ business if she is, but she swallows that back and shakes her head, “Not yet. Been thinkin’ on it. Ain’t touched the shit in years.”

“Why ya got it then?” He sounds like he thinks she’s lying again and she don’t like that shit at all.

“Jesse gave it ta me, said he figured I needed somethin’ ta make me feel good,” Coretta shrugs, “He thinks he were bein’ sweet probably. Lookin’ out for his baby sister or some shit.”

She watches from the corner of her eye as  the tip of his cigarette burns bright orange when he takes a drag. He don’t say a word for a minute, then, after he’s blown a few smoke rings, says, “Even Merle wouldn’t do that shit. Not if kids were in the picture, anyway.”

“Merle ain’t Jesse. Jesse ain’t Merle. Jesse figures a quick high like coke won’t be enough to fuck things up,” Coretta takes her own drag.

“Ya wanna take it?” His voice is oddly controlled when he asks.

“Don’t wanna take it, but I do, and I need ta get rid of it,” Coretta tries to explain how she’s been feeling about the whole thing. Probably does a shit job of explaining, but he seems to get what she’s saying.

“Yer an addict,” he says it easily. Like it ain’t shit. Not a question. Just a statement. The same way someone says the sky is fuckin’ blue.

“Expensive fuckin’ habit too. Got on it in high school, friends of Jesse’s ‘round the neighborhood got it for me. Quit cold turkey when I got pregnant. It was a fuckin’ nightmare ta quit that and everythin’ else while all the hormones were runnin’ wild,” Coretta’s lips twist into a humorless smile, “Nearly ten years clean of the shit.”

He nods a little, “Ain’t worth it.”

She considers that. Wonders if he’s talking the short high or the high price the drug used to cost. Or if he’s talking throwing ten years of being clean away. Or if he’s talking something else. Could be any of it, could be all of it. She ain’t sure, she just watches the dark tree line, “I know.”

Daryl doesn’t say anything back to that, just smokes his cigarette like they never spoke in the first place. Coretta don’t mind the silence. It’s nice enough. Quiet is better than explaining all the ways her whole life is fucked up. She ain’t sure why she’s alright with telling him, ain’t like she tells the rest of the group shit about her life before all this and ain’t no one interested in trying to get it outta Jesse. She’s on her second cigarette when he decides to break the silence.

His voice is something she’d liken to a dog growling when he speaks, “Yer brother know yer addicted?”

Coretta tilts her head and eyes him out of the corner of her eye, “Yeah, knows why I quit the shit too.”

Daryl grunts a little and lights another cigarette from the pack she set between them, “Dumb fuck.”

She doesn’t say anything to that and he’s climbing down from the watchtower, cig dangling from his lips as quickly as he showed up. There’s just enough light that she’s able to recognize his facial expression as he does. Man has a good fuckin’ poker face, but she knows rage when she sees it. It’s in the way his eyes are narrowed and his nostrils are flaring as he leaves and the way his arms flex like he’s gearing up to break someone’s nose. Coretta ain’t sure he can take her brother, and would much prefer he didn’t try. Jesse can be a piece of shit, but he’s blood and she don’t want her brother fighting people in the prison. Ain’t gonna end well. She can feel that shit in her bones. As it is, she’s got watch until midnight. Ain’t nothing she can do now to stop anything from happening. So she’s just gonna focus on her fuckin’ job, instead of the dark look on Daryl’s face as he left.

Chapter Text

Daryl is already gone the next morning and so is her coke and Jesse looks like he lost a fuckin’ fight with a truck. Jesse refuses to talk about it, but Merle was a witness apparently, and is more than happy to fill her in, chuckling the entire goddamn time. She’s dealing with inventory while he checks and cleans every fuckin’ gun they have and they’re both smoking as he regales her with the events of the night before.

“Yes siree, Darylina came stormin’ in ta D-block like Satan comin’ outta hell. Ain’t often I seen my baby brother so damn mad. He’s the sweet one, told ya that already, but boy, when he gets all pissy, sight ta fuckin’ see,” Merle sounds like he wishes he had a video of the incident.

“Seen him pissy. S’how we fuckin’ met,” Coretta mutters as she counts how many rounds of ammunition they have left.

“Bet ya ain’t seen him mad as he was last night, Sweet cheeks. Thought Ol’ Merle was gonna have ta save yer brother’s sorry ass. ‘Sides, he ain’t ever been willin’ ta lay in ta a woman like he did yer brother. Ya ain’t seen Darylina pissy ‘til ya see him go after someone that rubs him the wrong way one too many times,” Merle  takes apart one of the handguns with practiced ease despite only having the one hand.

Coretta hums, “That so?”

“Sure is, dollface. Just came on in an’ dragged yer brother outta his cell an’ went ta fuckin’ town. If it makes ya feel better, Claire sure as shit didn’t just lay down and take it. Gave good as he got. Still ended up on the losing end of it, ain’t gon’ lie ta ya,” Merle is still chuckling as he works on the guns.

“Lovely,” Coretta murmurs as she starts counting out rounds for a different caliber.

“Don’t know what the fuck got my baby brother’s panties in a fuckin’ twist though, Claire sure as shit weren’t sharin’ neither. Got any ideas, Sweet cheeks?” Merle grins at her like they’re sharing secrets or something.

“Why would I know?” Coretta keeps counting out rounds.

“Yer brother got beat by my brother, who yer awful close ta, despite ol’ Merle tellin’ ya ta keep yer distance. Figure one of ‘em mighta bitched ta ya,” Merle drawls.

Considering her coke is missing, she had a damn good idea why they got into it, she ain’t interested in sharing that with Merle though, “Hell if I know. Ain’t my business.”

Merle tuts at her, “See, I don’t buy that one fuckin’ bit. Think y’know exactly what got Darylina on the fuckin’ warpath. So I’ll ask ya again, got any ideas?”

Coretta side eyes him, “Ain’t nothin’ I’mma share with ya. Private matters, yeah?”

Merle don’t seem impressed with that at all, “Seems ta me, since my brotha was involved, I got as much right as ya ta know, so get ta sharin’, Sweet cheeks.”

“Nah. Don’t think I will,” Coretta drawls and doesn’t so much as twitch at the irritated look Merle gives her.

“Yer name came up, so I’m thinkin’ yer at fault somehow. So what the hell did ya do that got my baby brotha involved in yer family business?” Merle sounds he can’t stand how little she’s bothered by him.

“Exist, I suppose. I ain’t yer brother’s keeper,” Coretta moves to the next box of ammunition.

Merle scowls for a moment before he leers at her, “Not his keeper, maybe. Bet ya been keepin’ his bed nice an’ warm if ya got him fightin’ yer battles for ya. That it? Ya let him—“

“Merle, much as I enjoy yer way with words, ya should really learn ta hold yer damn tongue, don’t want it goin’ the same way as yer hand, y’know?” Coretta flashes him a thin smile as she finishes inventory and walks out humming to herself in order to drown out the shit he’s saying behind her. She ain’t got reason to sit around and listen to him be a dick. Plenty of other shit needs to get done around the prison, after all.

She’s helping Beth with laundry and the baby when the sound of the gates opening draws attention. Michonne or Daryl is back. Since Glenn and Maggie ain’t on a run today. Coretta just keeps helping Beth with the chores as the baby coos happily in the makeshift baby carrier Beth is wearing. The girl has been singing the entire time they’ve been doing laundry and Coretta ain’t sure how she can sing so loudly so long. Or how she’s comfortable with so many people hearing. Coretta can only sing for her babies, anyone else hearing is just a side effect of proximity.

Coretta pauses what she’s doing and cocks her head as she hears raised voices outside. That don’t sound right. Sounds like more voices than there should be. Voices she don’t recognize. She don’t think before hissing at her sons and Sophia to get into one of the cells and stay there. She’d tell Carl too, but that kid is determined to play child soldier and she ain’t gonna touch that mess with a fuckin’ ten foot pole. She ain’t even sure where that boy is. Beth is holding the baby tightly and she ain’t singing anymore as they listen to the noise outside and eye the guns warily. If they need ‘em, Beth gonna need to put that baby somewhere safe. Beth ain’t a fighter though and everyone but them is outside. If things go sideways, Coretta is stuck with four children and Beth. Things better not be going sideways today.

Coretta is holding her breath and waiting for gunshots when the prison door swings open and the rest of the group, those outside and not out working to fix the hole in the administration building, file in. And they ain’t alone. Michonne and Daryl have found people. Coretta needs a moment before she recognizes two of them. Tyreese and Sasha. Two of the group that could’ve joined them but didn’t because Rick was a nutcase and chased them off with a gun. She don’t recognize the man and woman with them, but she catches their names, Karen and David. She knew they were planning to bring more people in, but she hadn’t realized how soon that was gonna end up being. It sets her on edge. She didn’t like strangers before the end of the world. Had been damn near feral and reclusive when she and the boys were in the shack. She ain’t ever quite lost her inherent distrust of strangers, if anything, the end times only made it worse. Even when she knows the benefits of groups. Coretta don’t greet the newcomers as they’re introduced to everyone, just tracks their movements as Rick leads them to D-block. Where Jesse lives and where Merle crashes when he’s sick of the group. Coretta has a feeling Jesse is ‘bout to get the job of apocalyptic hall monitor for these new people.

Her eyes don’t slide away from the newcomers until they’ve disappeared from C-block. She don’t relax until everyone else returns to milling around. It’s an uneasy atmosphere, wary and tense, but no one is going for guns and no one is snapping and snarling over the newcomers and that’s as warm a welcome as Coretta thinks her people are capable of giving while the Governor is still uncounted for.

That night there’s a group meeting. The newcomers aren’t invited and Michonne and Daryl get the task of telling them what their strays told them. Coretta is stone faced and silent as she listens to the two quietest members on their group tell them what happened to the Woodbury residents when Jesse’s bomb fucked their gate.

“Tyreese said when the gates fell, everyone scattered. Those that could anyway. A lot of people weren’t able to get out,” Michonne’s dark eyes land on Jesse and Coretta can see the dislike on the woman’s face. Jesse ain’t been making many friends here. That’s clear enough.

Rick rubs his beard, “They know what happened to the Governor?”

Daryl is plucking feathers of a bird he brought back and he’s got a bruise on his jaw that wasn’t there the day before, and he sounds irritated as he answers, “Nah. Saw him shootin’ from the top of a car or some shit when the Walkers got in. Didn’t see where he went.”

“So he could still be alive?” Maggie sounds torn between frustration and shock, “Two bombs and a herd of walkers and he could still be alive?”

“Damn cockroach,” Merle mutters from where he leans against the cellblock wall.

“He was shooting his own people as much as he was the walkers, according to Sasha. He’s not sane,” Michonne continues.

“Of course he’s not sane, he kept Walker heads in fish tanks— tortured me and Maggie and wanted Michonne killed because she killed the walker daughter he was keeping in a cage,” Glenn sounds like he’s struggling to keep his voice level. The Governor took something, Coretta thinks, away from the kind, easygoing man. This rage and bitterness of Glenn’s is new and unnerving.

“We’ll keep lookin’. For the Governor and his people,” Daryl don’t like like he’s expecting much to come of it. The man’s trail’s been getting colder and colder and even Red is useless for finding the man. Too many other scents to cover up the Governor’s. They’re chasing a ghost now.

Hershel shifts in his seat and Coretta can see him rubbing at his stump, “And if we find the Governor’s people? Not all of them were involved.”

“We want more people, taking in the innocents if they want a place with us would make us stronger,” Rick’s voice is the calm, strong voice Coretta remembers from before he lost his fuckin’ shit and started hearing voices that ain’t there.

And that’s that. They’re going to start inviting people they think won’t be problems into their prison. Three questions to get an idea of who they are. And newcomers will live in cellblock-D. Coretta tries to picture more people in their group, their family as many of her people have taken to calling it. She ain’t sure she’s ready for a lot of new members, but Rick ain’t wrong. They need numbers. In the end of the world, people are as much a resource as any weapon. She ain’t one to reject resources.

Chapter Text

She and Daryl don’t talk about the missing coke in the days that follow. They don’t talk about the bruises Daryl and Jesse had sported either. Daryl gives up the hunt for the Governor within a month, there are more pressing issues than looking for a man who’s trail’s gone colder than the fuckin’ Arctic. New people just keep getting found. Mostly Woodbury survivors. Parents with children and teenagers. None of them seem to know what the fuck happened to the Governor, none seem to want to know either. Coretta ain’t used to so many people living around her anymore, even with them housed in D-block. She ain’t used to so many faces she don’t know. Ain’t used to faces and voices that ain’t part of C-block. She don’t like it.

The result is simple. She keeps her distance from them. Her sons keep to Sophia and Carl and Beth, despite Coretta letting them know it’s okay to be friends with the new children, even if that Lizzie girl clearly ain’t all there. Mason won’t make friends with the other kids, ‘cause they ain’t like him or Sophia or Carl, too soft, too weak, he tells her himself and she feels cold when her nine year old son tells her they’re walker bait. That those kids ain’t gonna make it. He sounds too old for his age. Too cold. Carl is the cold one, not Mason, but when she sees Mason watching the new kids, there’s an odd detachment in his eyes, the way he looks at a squirrel or rabbit when they go hunting. It worries her, more than she expected it to, because for all she was okay with him changing to survive the world, she don’t want him to look at others and think walker bait. She wonders where the little boy who liked to bring home strays went. It don’t help that Keston follows Mason’s lead. Won’t make friends with the new children because his brother won’t. It don’t help that the adults that join look down on her sons for being wilder, less sheltered than theirs. Almost like it was before the apocalypse. It makes Coretta’s lip curl and she suddenly cares a whole lot less when Mason tells the newcomers to fuck off.

As it is, she don’t know how to make her sons not think of the new kids as other, considering she’s struggling to adjust to the newcomers too. So she starts taking Mason out hunting with her, not all the time, but enough that he ain’t all weird when they’re in the prison. Enough that he don’t feel cooped up all the time. Today though, two months after Tyreese’s people joined first, it’s just her and Daryl hunting.

They’ve been hunting together more and more, even if they tend to split up for awhile as they hunt. They don’t talk much, don’t want to scare off most of the game. But they talk some. Here and there. About what they’re hunting. About her kids. Sometimes about Rick and the council that’s been formed. Sometimes about their pasts. It’s nice, talking to someone who don’t seem startled or pitying when she mentions casually the time her Daddy slammed her head through a wall the one and only time he hit her in the face. Daddy didn’t like bruising her face, Jesse always said it made her look too much like Momma and that would make Daddy feel guilty once in a blue moon. Daryl’s response to that is to just chew his thumb and tell her ‘bout the time he got lost in the woods for nine days and no one noticed. That’s how a lot of their conversations go, she tells a story, sometimes funny, normally shitty, and he tells her one back. Just how it is. No condolences or pity or judgement, just one story offered in return for another.

That’s what’s happening now, they’re tracking a herd of deer, and that means an overnight hunt. They’ve got their camp set up and squirrels cooking on a spit and cigarettes dangling from their lips as they wait for the squirrel meat to cook. Coretta leans back against a tree with one leg pulled up to her chest while Daryl is crouched by the fire, turning the spit periodically.

Coretta blows smoke out and grins, “One time, I was like eight, nine, somewhere in there, I watched one of them chainsaw horror movies, y’know? Ended up scared shitless of chainsaws for nearly two years. ‘Course Jesse thought this was fuckin’ hilarious, so this fucker, he takes the chain off one an’ every damn day for a week, wakes me up by revvin’ that thing like a foot above my head. Swear ta god, thought he was gonna kill me first time he did it.”

Daryl snorts a little, “Bet ya didn’t have a problem wakin’ up on time.”

She laughs a bit at that, “Shit wake up call, I’ll tell ya that.”

Daryl takes a long drag of his cigarette and exhales before offering his own story, “One time, was drunk as shit, some fucker said I couldn’t hang on ta the top of a movin’ truck. I’m like, fifteen probably, so I’m dumb as shit, so I end up on the top of this drunk dumbfuck’s truck, holdin’ on for my fuckin’ life while he’s goin’ like fifty down the fuckin’ road. Cops ended up pullin’ us over. Kid I’m with starts mouthin’ off ta the fuckin’ cops, but, guess it was right at the end of their fuckin’ shift an’ they wanted ta go home, so they tell him ta shut the fuck up and tell me ta get my ass down off the truck an’ get our asses home or they’d throw us in the drunk tank. Don’t remember much after that besides throwin’ up on my asshole friend’s shoes.”

Coretta laughs real quietly, “Got lucky as shit, sounds like.”

Daryl turns the spit and shoots her an amused look, just a quirk of an eyebrow and the slightest up tilt of one corner of his mouth to indicate his amusement, “No shit, thought I was goin’ ta jail for damn sure.”

She flashes him a crooked smile, “Still ended up livin’ in a damn prison, who’d’ve thought?”

He pulls the squirrels off the fire and offers her one, “‘Least it were by our own choice.”

Coretta takes the stick and spins it in the air slowly as she waits for it to cool enough to eat, “Almost miss my shack, some days, quieter there, less people.”

Daryl grunts a bit, “Safer for the kids. More eyes on ‘em.”

She raises an eyebrow at him, “Ain’t that what ya told me ta get me outta that shack in the first place?”

“Still true, woman,” Daryl pulls a piece of squirrel meat off his stick and pops it in his mouth.

Coretta follows his lead and starts picking apart her squirrel. It’s as greasy as it always is when cooks over a fire, but she’s too hungry to by bothered by it. She swallows down the meat quick as they both focus more on food than conversation. It’s quiet as they eat, except for the crackling of the small fire and their chewing. Both keep an eye and ear out for Walkers. Coretta tosses the little bones and shit into the fire and watches them crack from the heat as she eats. She remembers hearing once that somewhere people used bones to tell fortunes or some shit. Idly, she wonders as she chews on her squirrel what her fortune would be.

Coretta tosses in the stick her squirrel was on last and licks the grease off her fingers absentmindedly as her eyes flick around the darkness. Daryl’s eyes watch her across the fire in that sharp animal way of his. He’s started watching her like that more often. It reminds her of when he chased her back when she first met him, but without the irritated edge to it. She plays with the leather cuff he gave her that pushes up the sleeve of her shirt because she likes to see it but don’t like it over her sleeve. It’s still pretty, the turquoise in it still that bright pretty blue, even as the leather has stains on it now.

Coretta keeps spinning that bracelet around her wrist and thinking of that conversation she had with Carol, the more she notices Daryl watching her, the more that conversation comes back to her. She leans her head back against the tree and looks over at where he’s stretched out by the fire, one strong arm under his head. Wade was pretty, Daryl ain’t pretty. He’s good looking though, she can see that clearly enough, the kinda good looking that’s not pretty. Not meant to be pretty. Rugged, she thinks is the right word, even if thinking that word makes her feel like she’s read one too many shitty romance novels or something.

She sees why so many of the new women in the prison watch him like they want to eat him. She ain’t sure if any of ‘em have had an actual conversation with him though. She likes him, has spent months with him, trusts him with her sons and knows that trust ain’t misplaced. She ain’t sure those women can say the same and maybe that’s why she comes to the odd realization, an anticlimactic one really, that Carol weren’t wrong back then about Coretta havin’ a thing for Daryl. The conclusion don’t startle her at all, feels more like she’s been deliberately ignoring the obvious for awhile now. She ain’t sure Wade would appreciate this realization at all, but he’s dead now, dead and mourned and burned. He ain’t got the breathe to give an opinion no more.

Daryl breaks her out of her thoughts after awhile, drawling low and easy, “All that thinkin’ gonna get ya killed one day, told ya that ‘bout a thousand times now, woman.”

“Thinkin’ ain’t killed me yet, Dixon. Have a little faith in me,” She smiles lazily at the man.

He grunts a little, “I’ll take first watch, unless ya’d rather sit up an’ think instead of sleep.”

“Could come up with other things I’d rather be doing,” Coretta freezes when she realizes what she said and hope to god he doesn’t pick up her meaning. She ain’t sure where she stands with him exactly, she don’t want to make hunting awkward, and she just figured out, because she’s apparently an idiot or some shit, that she’s got a thing for the man in front of her. She ain’t quite ready to go rocking the boat like that now.

Luckily, Daryl just gives her that look again, the watchful, calculating look he’s been sporting around her more and more and grunts out, “Get some sleep, I’ll wake ya for yer shift. See if we can’t catch up with them deer in the mornin’.”

Coretta just keeps her mouth shut and nods once. She ain’t sure how to read the expression on his face and ain’t sure what to do with the world’s most anticlimactic realization. So she just moves to curl up in her side by the low burning fire with one hand clutching her knife. It’s the same uneasy sleep she always has when she’s sleeping out in the open like this, but she ain’t nervous, Daryl said he’d keep watch and he ain’t a liar. She’s safe as she’s ever gonna get out in the open at night with him around. That’s been proven a thousand times over since meeting him. Knowing that makes it easy to fall asleep with his steady, quiet breathing in the background.

Chapter Text

Her sons are at Carol’s “book reading” and Coretta’s finished with her shift on the fence killing walkers and she’s bored. Jesse’s been teaching her bomb making, but he’s off fixing shit around the prison so that ain’t an option. Rick and Hershel and Carl are all playing farmer. Michonne is dicking around all of Georgia looking for the Governor. Beth has the baby. Maggie and Glenn are on a run. Some of the Woodbury people are on gate and watch duty. Having so many people means more free time and Coretta’s not sure what to do with it.

So, she ends up making arrows while she sits outside against a wall with the dogs. Red and Molly-dog are roughhousing and making a huge racket while she carves new arrows. She likes having a stock pile of the things. More she’s got the better off she is. She carves and watches the dogs and listens with half an ear to the people talking and mingling a little ways away by the outdoor kitchen that got built awhile back.

There’s a group of women all over there. She recognizes one as the momma of the Patrick kid that hero worships Daryl. Another she vaguely remembers is on the council. She can’t remember a single one of their names, except for Karen. The woman Tyreese seems to have a thing for. Lord knows he’s been making puppy dog eyes at the woman more than enough to announce his thing for the woman to the whole world.

Sounds like they’re mostly bitching about the heat and the boredom and what they miss about life before. Coretta just keeps carving arrows and watching the dogs. She ain’t sure where Daryl is or she’d be seeing if he’s in the mood to put up with her company. She sure as shit ain’t gonna go keep Merle company. Man talks more than anyone she fuckin’ knows. And he ain’t that nice when he does.

She’s not prepared for someone to sit down beside her. She watches the man, one of the D-block residents, out of the corner of her eye warily, but doesn’t stop what she’s doing. She ain’t much interested in talking right now, would rather focus on what she’s doing. The guy beside her don’t seem to notice that though because he angles himself towards her and offers her a wide, friendly smile, “I don’t think we’ve met yet, I’m James.”

Coretta eyes the hand he holds out and reaches out after a moment to shake it once, “Coretta.”

James has a friendly face, an open one, He’d be awful at poker. His smile seems to widen even as she goes back to what she was doing before he interrupted, “Pretty name. It suits you.”

She hums a little and keeps working on the stick in her hand. She ain’t sure why this guy has decided to bother her, but she don’t really care either, so long as he don’t make it impossible for her to work.

James doesn’t seem at all bothered by her lack of speaking and continues on, “Can’t say I’ve seen you around much, where they been hiding you?”

“Ain’t hidin’ nowhere,” Coretta drawls, “Or ya wouldn’t be botherin’ me.”

James doesn’t seem deterred by that comment at all and laughs easily, loudly, like Wade would when he was more amused than annoyed with her bluntness. She don’t like that this guy sounds like Wade. Not one bit. James don’t notice her discomfort though, just gestures to Red and Molly-dog and asks, “So those your dogs? I’ve seen some of the kids playing with them and wondered where they came from.”

“Yeah, Red an’ Molly-dog. They’re mine,” Coretta sighs internally as she concludes that this guy ain’t gonna go away until he’s good and ready unless she tells him to go to hell.

“Nice names, so you’re a dog person?” James is overly friendly. She don’t like it. She likes her people, Glenn is friendly, Beth is friendly. She likes them. They’re hers. They’re family. This guy ain’t family even if he lives in their home. She’d like it if he left her be.

“Like my dogs,” Coretta answers simply.

That gets another laugh, “Fair enough. Saw you with those two boys the other day, they yours?”

“Yes,” Coretta side eyes him again. She ain’t sure she likes a stranger asking about her kids.

“Who’s their dad?” James probes.

“What?” Coretta growls it out, she don’t feel the desire to discuss Wade with a nosy ass stranger.

“Their dad? He one of the guys around here?”

“No.” Coretta nearly hisses it, “Didn’t fuckin’ make it. We done with the twenty questions now?”

James raises his hands in surrender and his hazel eyes go wide, “Sorry, that was inconsiderate of me. Just not everyday I meet someone as pretty as you and I wanted to get to know you a bit better.”

Her lip curls back in irritation, “Mission accomplished.”

He keeps trying to smooth things over, “I’m sorry, really, I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories. Just, you looked lonely out here, and well, thought you could use company.”

“Weren’t lonely,” Coretta stands and puts her new arrows into the quiver and whistles for her dogs. She ignores his offered goodbye and walks away, her patience for strangers worn thin.

She ends up back in her cell, smoking a cigarette and carving more arrows in privacy as the dogs snore by her feet. She makes a few that would fit Daryl’s crossbow too, figuring he’d appreciate something useful like that. Coretta’s interrupted this time by her sons running into her cell and flinging themselves onto her bed with twin yells of, “Hi, Momma!”

Coretta laughs as she moves the arrows out of their way, puts her cigarette out, and lets Keston crawls into her lap, “Hey, Darlin’s, were y’all good for Miss Carol?”

Mason is sprawled out beside her with his arms flopped out to the sides and his legs dangling off the bed. He grins widely at her, “Sure were! Kinda borin’, ya already taught me ta sharpen knives.”

Coretta smiles a little, “Always good ta review it. And Keston’s gotta learn too. Don’t forget that.”

“Ya could teach him. I could too! Even Daryl could teach him. Gets borin’ cause all them dumb kids ain’t got a clue what they’re doin’. Even Sophia thinks they’re slow,” Mason sounds like he hates going at the pace the Woodbury kids are going.

“Miss Sophia is too sweet ta be sayin’ things like that. I know she ain’t goin’ ‘round talkin’ bad ‘bout kids just ‘cause their parents ain’t teachin’ ‘em,” Coretta chides lightly.

Keston giggles, “Sophia had ta tell Lizzie ta quit bein’ dumb ‘cause Lizzie keeps sayin’ Walkers are people. Ain’t that dumb, Momma? Walkers ain’t people. Walkers are walkers.”

Coretta blinks, “That’s right, baby. Walkers ain’t people. Don’t let Lizzie fill yer head with dumb thoughts.”

“Ain’t gonna do that. Lizzie ain’t our friend. She’s just a stupid girl. Don’t even like her,” Mason pipes up, blue eyes serious, “She’s crazier than a loon, think her momma must’ve dropped her on her head.”

Coretta pets Keston’s hair and gives Mason a weak glare, “Don’t be mean, ain’t her fault if she’s got a couple screws loose. Some kids just that way, so long as she ain’t hurtin’ nobody, it ain’t a problem.”

“She ain’t gonna make it,” Mason’s voice is serious as he tells her his prediction for the tenth time since meeting the Woodbury kids.

“Ya don’t know that, ya ain’t got a crystal ball. Shouldn’t be sayin’ things like that,” Coretta flicks him lightly on the forehead.

Keston giggles at his brother’s affronted look, “Uncle Jesse says it too. Says not ta get attached ta people who ain’t blood. Told us anyone who ain’t blood is walker bait.”

Coretta raises an eyebrow as she finally learns where Mason is learning this shit from, “Yer uncle ain’t right in the head neither. Don’t listen ta everythin’ he says. It’ll make ya crazy too. Y’all think Sophia is walker bait?”

Both boys look horrified by the thought and answer as one, “No!”

“She ain’t blood though. Neither are Rick or Michonne or Carl or Carol. Neither are Beth or Maggie. Daryl and Merle ain’t blood neither, remember? Glenn? Hershel? What ‘bout the baby? She walker bait?” Coretta continues.

“‘Course not! They’re family, ya said so,” Mason sounds like he’s getting frustrated.

“Family, but not blood, ya think family is walker bait just ‘cause they don’t got yer blood? Blood matters, but it ain’t all there is, ain’t everythin’. Don’t be lettin’ Jesse fill yer heads with bullshit,” Coretta gives each of her sons a stern look until they both nod their agreement.

Satisfied, Coretta ends up curled up around Keston, with Mason pressed up against her side and all three are dozing. It’s a tight squeeze, but it’s comfortable enough, even if Keston kicks in his sleep and Mason snores. It ain’t often anymore that she lets her boys sleep in her bed with her unless they’ve had a nightmare. Part of growing up, she thinks, need to be able to sleep on their own. But occasionally, she lets them sleep with her again, when it feels right. When she thinks it might be needed by them. Today feels like one of those days.

Coretta’s drifting in that odd half awake, half dreaming state of sleep. Makes knowing what’s real and what ain’t a bit difficult. Like she’s pretty sure the fuckin’ chicken clucking by her head ain’t real, ‘cause farmer Grimes ain’t found a chicken yet. The laughter from outside her cell might be real though, sounds like Beth and that boy she’s seeing. It takes the incessant rapping of knuckles against the bars of her cell to jar her outta her half-sleep.

“Come in,” She calls out as she disentangles herself from her sons and yawns.

Daryl pushes the curtains she hung aside and pauses a moment as his eyes flick over her and the boys before he speaks, “Goin’ on the next run, ya need anythin’?”

Coretta tips her head to the side and thinks as Red ambles over to greet the man, “Could use more toothpaste if ya can find any.”

Daryl nods a bit, “That all?”

No, but Coretta hates asking for too much when people go on runs, “Think so.”

Daryl’s eyes go to her sons again, “They need anythin’?”

She purses her lips and considers carefully, “Something to keep ‘em entertained, they’re bored an’ climbin’ walls.”

“Carol’s readin’ ain’t keepin’ ‘em entertained?” Daryl’s eyebrow quirks a bit. She’s pretty sure he don’t know what Carol is actually doing with the kids.

“Guess not,” Coretta gestured to the small pile of bolts she made for him, “Those are yers, figures ya could use more.”

Daryl is visibly startled by that, staring at her like she’s grown a second head before he grunts out, “Ain’t need ta do that, can make my own.”

“I know, just thought I’d be nice,” Coretta shrugs, “Think that’s allowed, ain’t it?”

He snorts a bit as he examines the bolts she made him, “Guess so, ya sure ya don’t need anythin’ else?”

Coretta arches an eyebrow, “Don’t think so, but if ya come across a new blanket or somethin’ I ain’t gonna turn it down.”

That gets a look, “Its Georgia an’ damn near summer. Ya ain’t even got a fan in here, how ya not burnin’ up?”

“Get cold easy. Like ta be warm,” She explains easily, keeping her voice low to keep from waking the boys.

“Gonna die of heatstroke,” He mutters, “That why ya only wear long sleeves?”

Coretta blinks at that, “Nah, just don’t like my arms showin’.”

Daryl seems to accept that answer without questioning it as he takes the bolts, “Thinkin’ we could take Keston out squirrel huntin’ soon if yer alright with him bein’ outta the fence.”

She glances down at her sleeping son’s face, “Not sure we’ll find much, he ain’t the best at keepin’ quiet yet. If yer fine with that, we can, he needs the practice.”

Daryl seems satisfied by that, “Can go after I’m back from the next run if the weather’s right.”

Coretta offers him an easy smile as he turns to go, “Lookin’ forward ta it, Dixon.”

Chapter Text

When Coretta mentioned wanting an extra blanket, she wasn’t expecting much. Maybe a throw blanket or something. Hell, she wasn’t even really expecting that. So Daryl handing her one of those extra fluffy blankets that’s big enough for a queen-sized bed when he gets back from his run with Rick and the James guy is unexpected. Coretta’s fingers dig into the plush fabric on instinct and she’s grinning from ear to ear in pleasure. Coretta feels a bit like a little kid at how excited she is over this one fucking thing, but it’s soft and thick and a pretty light green color and she’s thrilled. Coretta’s holding tightly to her chest without realizing is and grinning broadly at Daryl, “Yer fuckin’ awesome, y’know that, Dixon? This is perfect.”

Daryl makes a noise that sounds like a cross between a laugh and scoff as he pulls a tube of toothpaste and a monopoly board game out, “Didn’t know a blanket’s all it takes ta make ya happy.”

“Don’t need much, should know that by now,” Coretta’s smile widens as he hands her the toothpaste.

“Think ya just ain’t much for wantin’,” He drawls before jerking his head towards their cellblock and keeping a firm hold on the board game when she tries to carry it.

“Ain’t like that,” Coretta rolls her eyes. She just don’t like wanting things she don’t really need. End times ain’t the time to be wanting more than she can have. Her little thing for Daryl is one of those things. She ain’t bout to push or hope for anything like that. Best to leave it be.

“Ya say so,” Daryl whistles sharply as they enter the cellblock, “Mason! Keston! C’mere!”

Coretta laughs a little at how fast her sons appear in front of the man, two pairs of bright, excited eyes watching him intently. Naturally, it’s Mason who talks first, immediately defensive, “Why ya yellin’? Didn’t do nothin’ bad.”

Coretta’s head cocks to the side, and her hair falls around her face as she looks her son over, “Left y’all alone for ten minutes, maybe, if ya got into trouble that fast, yer settin’ records.”

Daryl hands Mason the board game, “Ain’t in trouble, kid, yer momma said y’all been bored. Found this for y’all.”

Mason squints down at it for a moment before he grins up at the man, “Thank ya, Daryl!”

Keston repeats the thanks as he strains to look at the box in Mason’s hands, “How ya play?”

“S’easy, gonna need Sophia an’ Carl, c’mon,” Mason gives Keston a toothy grin and starts hollering for Sophia and Carl. Coretta ain’t really expecting Carl to play, but she hopes he’ll remember eventually he’s allowed to be a kid sometimes.

“Betcha they’ll be arguin’ over fake money in an hour,” She murmurs as she adjusts her grip on the toothpaste and blanket and starts towards the stairs.

“Should keep ‘em busy,” Daryl grunts out and follows her up the stairs, pausing to set his crossbow down in his perch while she continues on to put her new things away.

Coretta hums to herself as she unfolds and refolds the blanket until it fits her bed without touching the floor. She don’t want it getting dirty. It looks brand new. Like he found it in a store or some shit instead of an abandoned house. She runs her fingers over the blanket one more time before stepping back out to landing above the rest of the cellblock. She has first night watch in a few hours with Rick. It’s rare she and Rick are on watch together. Especially now that he’s playing farmer most of the time. The few times they’ve been on watch together, they don’t speak much unless it’s about watch or their sons or Rick’s plans for the prison. Sometimes he talks about Lori. On his really good days. In return, she talks about Wade. It’s a strange friendship, one that seems to exist solely because, for as much as she followed him, she didn’t flinch from telling him when he was wrong or failing as leader.

Coretta can see Mason and Keston have managed to convince Sophia to play monopoly with them, though Carl is entirely engrossed in a comic book nearby. Better than him being a gun toting mini-adult day in and day out. Jesse is pacing the cellblock like a caged dog. Merle is shit talking anyone who catches his attention. Coretta resists the urge to put a cigarette to her lips as she watches Carol get sick of Merle’s shit and politely shut him up with a sweet smile and a few quiet words. She ain’t sure what the gray haired woman said, but Coretta has a feeling it was more cutting than that sweet smile implies. Carol has a way with words that Coretta greatly fuckin’ admires. Everyone else is doing their various jobs around the prison.

Coretta is hyperaware of Daryl coming to stand by her. He needs a shower again. She idly wonders if she’ll have an easier or harder time getting him to shower than last time she convinced him to. He’s chewing his thumb the way she’s learned means he’s thinking something over. And he says she thinks too much. She tips her head a little to look at him, “Got somethin’ on yer mind, Dixon?”

She can see him still a little as he glances over at her and stops chewing his thumb, “O’Malley was askin’ ‘bout ya.”

“Who?” Coretta ain’t got a clue who the fuck O’Malley is.

Daryl squints a bit at her and grunts out, “James.”

She hums, “Hope ya told him ta fuck off.”

He cocks an eyebrow a little at her and his lips thin, “Why? He botherin’ ya?”

“Nah, Just don’t know when a person wants ta be left alone,” Coretta waves it off.

Daryl’s blue eyes study her for a moment longer before he grunts, “He start causin’ problems, ya lemme know, ya hear me?”

Coretta grins, “I hear ya just fine, Dixon. Seems like a nice guy, just ain’t got more than air between his fuckin’ ears.”

He makes a face that ain’t particularly happy, but ain’t pissed off and nods, “Alright. Still wanna take little man with us on the next hunt?”

“Sure, anythin’ goes wrong, I’ll put him up a tree,” Coretta yawns, the perpetual exhaustion of post-apocalyptic life makes her want to sleep a lot more than she used to. Especially lately, she’s been pulling a lot of night watch shifts without sleeping during the day to make up for it.

“Gonna have to loosen the draw on that kiddie bow y’all got if he wants ta shoot it,” Daryl drawls.

“I know. Y’know he wants a crossbow like yers when he’s older? Told me so while ya were on yer run,” Coretta offers Daryl a toothy grin as he visibly startles at that.

“Why?”

“Kes thinks yer pretty badass. Looks up ta ya. If ya ain’t careful, boy is gonna try ta steal them angel wings of yers,” She gestures to his ever present leather vest with a lazy flick of her fingers.

“Nah, too big for him, he’d be trippin’ over it an’ shit. Won’t get far if he tries, he‘s barely knee high,” Daryl looks down at where Keston is being told by Sophia how to play monopoly.

“For now, give it a few years,” Coretta pops each of her fingers and yawns again as she watches Mason take over the explanation.

“Woman, go sleep or somethin’. Ya got watch tonight, ain’t no use up there if ya can’t stay awake,” He sounds mildly annoyed that he has to tell her that.

Coretta shrugs, “Only if ya sleep too, ain’t no one ever sleeps on runs an’ ya were gone two days. Ya need it more’n me.”

“Ain’t tired,” is his immediate response. The bags under his eyes tell her a different story.

“Bullshit, C’mon, I’ll even let ya crash with me, nappin’ is always better with people. Warmer, y’know?” Coretta states boldly, feeling entirely out of her comfort zone as she speaks. It’s been a long ass time since she’s shared her bed with someone other than the dogs or her kids.

Daryl looks like a statue as he registers her words. Like he ain’t sure he heard her right. It’d be funny if the way his eyes were fixed on her didn’t make her feel like she crossed some kinda line. He doesn’t even blink and his jaw starts working a little like he’s chewing on his words before he says them. Maybe she should have thought be for she said anything.

He sounds a bit like she’s knocked the air out of him when he finally manages to speak, “The hell, woman?”

Coretta shrugs and fully commits to whatever the hell it is she’s trying to do, “Ya heard me, if ya don’t wanna, that’s fine. Just felt like offerin’. Been awhile since I’ve had someone ta sleep with that ain’t a dog or kid.”

If anything that statement makes him even more into a statue than the first one. Coretta ain’t embarrassed by the silence or the way he’s staring at her. She’s a grown ass woman, ain’t like she asked for sex or nothing. He refuses, then he refuses. Ain’t nothing to get all weird over. The silence stretches on and she pushes off the railing to go to her cell. She pauses as she pushes her curtain aside and tosses over her shoulder, “Quit overthinkin’ it, Dixon.”

Coretta takes her shoes and socks off and empties her pockets of everything, dumping her lighter, cigarettes and pocket knife on the little table she dragged into the cell for a nightstand. Then takes thin, black zip up hoodie she’s wearing off and tosses it onto the top bunk. She’s only wearing a tank top under it for once, but figures Daryl probably ain’t gonna take her up on her offer so it don’t matter if the cigarette burn scars covering her arms are showing or not. Besides, sleeping means he wouldn’t be looking at ‘em anyway. Coretta sprawls out, face down, on top of her new blanket, with her arms crossed under her pillow, fully intent on sleeping a little before her and Rick have to sit up in that watch tower for hours.

She’s genuinely surprised when heavy footsteps follow her into the cell and pause just inside the cell door. She raises her head and looks over her shoulder as Daryl takes his boots off, then his vest, before walking over almost nervously, he still manages to sound gruff and anything but nervous as he says, “Takin’ up the whole damn bed, woman, move over.”

Coretta wiggles herself over to be up against the wall and moves to lay on her side instead. It’s a narrow bed, she ain’t done like Maggie and Glenn and taken the top bunk off to make a full sized bed. He’s practically a fuckin’ furnace as he slides in beside her. He’s tense as hell and doesn’t seem to know what to do. It makes her roll her eyes a little, “Relax, This ain’t gonna get ya shot by Mason. S’just sleep.”

She can feel him shift again and figures she’ll let him adjust to this on his own. He’ll relax eventually. Or he’ll leave. One of the two. She’s just enjoying the added warmth he provides as she works on falling alseep. In the narrow bunk, they’re pressed up against each other and she can feel how tense he is. Like he’s waiting for her to change her mind and kick him out or something. Or like he ain’t used to this kinda contact. She’s halfway asleep when she feels him finally starts to relax. She’s too far gone to tell if the feeling of his fingers playing with the ends of her hair is real or not. She ain’t sure it matters either, it feels nice having him beside her like this. Even if he ain’t too sure about it. She kinda hopes he’ll get a bit more sure about it. She wouldn’t remind repeating this situation. With a little less uncertainty on his part.

Chapter Text

Taking Keston out of the safe of the prison is a test of Coretta’s ability to stay sane. She’s paranoid as hell something is going to happen and hyperaware of everything around them. Daryl is quiet as they hunt, they’re looking for squirrels, but if they find something bigger, Coretta knows they’ll be bringing that back too. She’s not really expecting a good haul today. Keston hasn’t learned to walk quietly enough for hunting yet even though she can see he’s trying real hard to walk as silently as she and Daryl do.

On the upside, Keston is paying attention to everything she and Daryl tell him and making a noticeable effort to learn. Even asking questions that Coretta is impressed by. Her baby is smart, she’s always known it. It’s a shame school ain’t a thing anymore, he’d be in kindergarten now, she thinks. Getting to learn all sorts of things instead of just how to survive.

He’s holding the child sized compound bow exactly like he was taught and he’s got an arrow nocked and ready to go. It’s adorable really, Wade would be so proud of their son right now. Just like he was the first time they took Mason hunting. Keston looks up at Daryl’s back and asks in a little whisper, “Can I shoot the next squirrel?”

Daryl turns just enough to look down at the boy and grunts, “Ya can try, they move ‘round a lot. Gotta be quick.”

Keston nods seriously and his little hands grip his bow even tighter, “I can do it.”

“That’s good, baby, keep lookin’,” Coretta murmurs and taps the boy on the head as they walk quietly through the trees. They’ve only found three squirrels so far. She’s only expecting maybe ten at most today. That’s fine, though, food isn’t short at the prison right now. They’ve had a lot of good luck on runs recently and hunting has been good enough lately that no one is going to starve if they only get a few squirrels.

It’s been a quiet morning. Only a few walkers so far. All easily put down before Keston can so much as squeak at the sight of the rotting, moaning corpses. Her baby’s gotten good at not making a sound at the sight of them. Just gets tense and moves behind her or Daryl like she told him.

It’s a hot day as they move, even though it’s not even noon yet. Humid too. Summer is about here and the humidity has just been building. Coretta is expecting summer storms to start soon. Rick’s crops need a good rain. Daryl stops abruptly and Coretta grins a little when she sees why. A fat squirrel that’s halfway up a tree trunk and just sitting there. Keston is practically vibrating with excitement when he spots it too.

Daryl turns just enough to glance at Keston and wave a hand a little at the boy, “C’mere, Little man, found ya a squirrel.”

Keston is beside the man in an instant with the bowstring drawn back, before he can loose the arrow though, Daryl is kneeling beside him, “Easy, gotta line the shot up, yer momma show ya how ta aim with this?”

“Yeah,” Keston sounds baffled at the idea she hadn’t.

“Good, aim for the right in the middle of his back. Yeah, like that,” Daryl’s voice is low and gruff as he directs her son on shooting the squirrel, “Alright, now let go.”

The arrow makes an audible thump noise as it hits the tree. The small squeak of the squirrel is cut off. Coretta is beaming at her son’s success as the boy spins around to return the smile, “Momma! Look! I got it!”

“I see that, ya did great, baby,” Coretta is thrilled at her son’s joy. She knows he’ll be talking about it for days. Mason did the first time he managed to kill something on a hunt.

Daryl pulls the arrow loose, squirrel still attached and hands it to Keston with one of his rare smiles on his face, “Did good, gonna have squirrel stew tonight, I’m thinkin’.”

If anything, Keston is even more excited, “Momma makes the best squirrel stew! Made it all the time at the shack!”

Coretta raises an eyebrow, she really isn’t the best cook. Especially not now, when there’s not much left in terms of seasoning or fresh vegetables, “We’ll see what I can do later.”

Daryl jerks his head towards the north, “See if we can’t find a few more.”

Coretta smiles a bit at the way Keston’s got a skip in his step as he proudly carries his prize as they continue on. They manage to find twelve squirrels in all before she and Daryl decide to call it a day, they haven’t found tracks for anything worth hunting and it seems like there’s no more squirrels that are going to make an appearance today. It’s nearly sunset by the time they make it back to the gates and the sounds of their people hollering and banging on the fence to draw walkers away from the gates greets them as they approach.

Coretta and Daryl make sure to get Keston in the gates first and as soon as they’re in the safety of the fence, Keston is holding up his squirrel and telling everyone that they see what he did. Coretta grins at her son’s enthusiasm. She hasn’t seen him this excited in a long time.

Mason meets them in the courtyard and eyes Keston’s squirrel, “Ya shot that?”

“‘Course I did! I’m a hunter too! Like ya an’ Momma an’ Daddy an’ Daryl!” Keston declares proudly as Mason takes the bow from him and checks it over like he’s worried Keston damaged it.

“Gotta skin it,” Mason points out, “Ain’t no one gonna eat no fur.”

“I know how ta skin! Ya showed me!” Keston retorts.

“That’s right, let’s go get these ready. Mason, I talked ta Rick the other night, if ya wanna, ya can help on watch tomorrow afternoon,” Coretta tells the blue eyed boy, “Should be helping Merle and one of the Woodbury people.”

Mason beams, “I can do that! I’ll be the best watcher ever!”

“I’m sure ya will, don’t be pushin’ anyone off the tower,” Coretta warns before following Daryl over to sit near the outdoor kitchen, Keston bouncing along behind her while Mason runs off, presumably to tell Merle there’s no escaping him. Mason seems to have decided Merle is entertaining as hell and more than once she’s had to save Merle from her son. She’s pretty sure Merle hides from Mason occasionally.

“Ya have yer knife?” Coretta checks with Keston as she pulls the arrow out of his squirrel.

“Yes, Momma,” Keston’s big doe eyes are bright and excited.

“Good, and Mason showed ya how ta do this, so I’mma let ya do it, take yer time, don’t wanna mess it up,” Coretta sets to work on her squirrels as she keeps one eye on Keston’s progress.

“Careful ‘round the legs, little man,” Daryl rumbles after a few minutes of silence.

Keston bobs his head, “I can do it.”

“Ain’t sayin’ ya can’t. Sayin’ ya gotta be careful, them legs are real small, don’t wanna cut ‘em off.” Daryl is seemingly endlessly patient with children. Coretta thinks he genuinely likes kids. Especially the little ones like Judith and Keston.

Red and Molly-dog have taken to hovering around the kitchen area to be for scraps all day and the pair zero in on the three of them skinning squirrels, whining and making those begging faces of theirs as the people work on the squirrels. Coretta rolls her eyes and starts tossing them the guts, “Spoiled, both of y’all.”

Keston giggles as he follows suit and tosses the guts to the dogs too, “They’re not spoiled, Momma! They’re good dogs.”

“Still spoiled rotten. Ya think I don’t know those two eat as much as those pigs Rick found?” Coretta snorts.

“Think Molly-dog weighs as much as a pig,” Daryl mutters as he works over another squirrel with quick, deft movements.

“Hershel did say she was underweight when he saw her. Guess she ain’t anymore,” Coretta eyes the brown and white dog that’s scarfing down everything thrown her way. Wade had always complained about how useless Molly-dog was, but she remembers more than once seeing him napping on the couch with her. Mason may have found her, but Wade was the one to spoil that dog, once he got over his irritation at having another animal in their home.

“Got a damn potbelly on her. She damn near lives over here,” Daryl shakes his head and tosses Red more squirrel guts before Molly-dog can bully her way into stealing the redbone’s food.

Coretta grins as Keston jumps to the dog’s defense, “She ain’t fat! Just big. Momma says it ain’t nice ta call ladies fat. Mason called Miss Jenny fat once and Momma tanned his hide.”

“Miss Jenny was pregnant, not fat, and Mason made her cry. Ya don’t insult people’s looks,” Coretta reminds him.

“Molly-dog gets her feelins hurt when ya ta talk bad ‘bout her too,” Keston glares at her.

“Molly-dog likes anythin’ people say ta her so long as ya use a happy voice,” Coretta points out as she finishes her last squirrel.

Daryl grunts a little and points at Keston’s squirrel, “Tilt yer knife more, yer gonna cut off the meat if ya don’t.”

Keston squints down at the squirrel in a way that’s reminiscent of the man talking to him and nods, “Got it.”

Keston is nearly done, he’s got a long way to go before he’s able to do it quickly though. Coretta thinks he’s doing well though. He’s ahead of where Mason was when he started. Of course, the apocalypse hadn’t happened back then to make this a necessity for living. Coretta figures that has probably changed what things are and aren’t life skills. At least Keston is proud of himself. Kids like to feel like they’re important, she figures helping feed the prison must be making him feel pretty damn important right about now.

Chapter Text

It’s pouring rain the day Coretta discovers she’s still capable of jealously. She hasn’t been jealous of another woman since high school when Hailee Whitechurch got it in her head that she’d look better on Wade’s arm than Coretta. It’s been years since that familiar, sour feeling of insecurity has been present in her life, at least in regards to other women. Watching Meridith, one of the women from Woodbury, flirting with Daryl as he tightens the strings on his crossbow does it though. Coretta is helping with Judith so Beth can have some free time and leans against a wall, bouncing the baby in her arms and trying not to glare at the other woman.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with Meridith. She pulls her weight in the prison. Helps with whatever she needs to whenever she needs to. She’s not a bitch. She’s friendly to everyone and says good morning to Coretta every day. There’s nothing wrong with the woman and that’s the problem. Coretta wants there to be something wrong with her. As it is, Coretta can’t help but watch the woman flirting with a near silent Daryl and compare herself to the other woman.

Meridith is pretty. Real pretty. Coretta can see that clear enough. She’s got that homecoming queen kind of pretty with thick, shiny brown hair and a sweet face and wide smile and big green eyes and Coretta knows she’s never had kids and so her stomach doesn’t have old stretches marks working their way up it. Coretta’s always been thin and the apocalypse has been harsh about stripping away any weight she never quite managed to lose before, but her figure has never quite been the same since having the boys. It’s never bothered her before but Coretta can count her flaws plenty and she knows she’s being irrational but she can’t help but think Meridith is prettier. That’s not even counting the burn scars on her arms or any other scar she sports from childhood.

The only thing that’s keeping the jealousy from getting too bad is that Daryl seems to be barely responding to the woman. If anything, it looks like Meridith is flirting with a brick wall. Coretta forces herself to go back to playing with the baby in her arms. Judith is a chunky baby that giggles at everything. She’s probably three months old now and Coretta thinks this was her favorite age when her boys where little. Alert enough to do more than sleep all day and Coretta can carry her around on her hip, but she’s not really mobile yet. It’s a cute age. One she’s missed.

Coretta tickles the baby lightly to get her giggling and grins at the sweet sound. God, she misses when her boys were this small. Carol wanders over to her and Judith and smiles lightly, “I see you’ve finally warmed up to her.”

“Was never not warmed up ta her. Just felt weird holdin’ a baby again. ‘Specially in the end times,” Coretta responds as she kisses the baby on the head.

“She’s certainly one of a kind around here,” Carol muses.

“Sure is,” Coretta’s eyes drift back to Meridith as she continues on with her attempt to catch Daryl’s attention.

Carol’s eyes follow her gaze and the gray haired woman shakes her head, “She won’t get anywhere with him, but it’s funny to watch her try, isn’t it?”

Coretta tilts her head to look at the woman as she adjusts the way she’s holding Judith, “Funny?”

“Sure, funny. She’s been flirting with him for days now and I think the most reaction he’s given her is a grunt. Pookie barely knows she exists,” Carol sounds dismissive as she speaks.

“Pookie?” Coretta can feel a slow grin spread across her face at the nickname. Oh, she had no idea that was what Carol calls the quiet man and she’s tickled pink by it.

Carol is clearly smothering a smile as she changes the topic, “I was wondering if you’d help me with my reading time. Not everytime, but Lizzie is... struggling with the idea of certain things, I’m hoping you might be able to talk to her.”

“She the crazy one?” Coretta vaguely remembers her boys mentioning a girl named Lizzie.

“She’s not crazy, she’s confused,” Carol chides.

“Ya say so. I can try, ain’t promisin’ a miracle,” Coretta shrugs as her eyes find Mason and Keston. They’re whispering to each other by one of the cells. She hopes they aren’t about to do something stupid. Whispering is never a good sign when it comes to kids.

“That’s all I ask, I’ve tried everything I can think of to get through to her and I don’t think she’s getting it,” Carol sounds disappointed.

“Her daddy know ‘bout her issues?” Coretta blows a raspberry on Judith’s cheek and grins at the giggly squealing she’s rewarded with.

“I don’t know, I can’t exactly ask, he doesn’t know what my reading time goes over,” Carol sighs.

“Ain’t like ya can keep it secret forever, gossip spreads faster than the damn flu ‘round here,” Coretta cautions.

“Unfortunately,” Carol raises an eyebrow and nods towards where Meridith and Daryl are, “Looks like Mason and Keston are tired of her hanging around.”

Coretta turns her head and watches her boys not so subtly move between the woman and Daryl and start peppering the man with questions. Keston seems to just be following Mason’s lead. Mason, on the other hand, keeps glancing behind him at Meridith and shooting her narrow eyed looks. Well. That’s interesting. Coretta sighs, “Think I should make ‘em quit?”

Carol shakes her head, “Why would you? Daryl loves your boys. They aren’t bothering him any.”

Coretta laughs at her friend’s dismissive response and hikes Judith higher on her hip, “Ya enjoy this.”

“I have no idea what you’re referring to,” Carol says with a sniff as she goes to leave, “Tomorrow reading time is at noon, don’t forget.”

She rolls her eyes and offers the woman a mocking salute, “Yes ma’am.”

Coretta spares one more glance at where her boys are intentionally, and unintentionally on Keston’s part, cockblocking Meridith. Mason looks extremely smug as Meridith gives up for the time being and Daryl gives the boys answers to whatever it is they’re asking him. Coretta isn’t sure when Mason decided this was part of his job, but she’s more than a little amused by it. Watching Meridith’s flirting fail because of a pair of children is extremely funny and Coretta’s humming to Judith as she goes off to change the baby’s diaper. Little girl reeks all of the sudden. Coretta doesn’t miss this part of having a baby.

Chapter Text

Coretta ain’t sure what to make of the girl sitting across from her in the far corner of the library. Lizzie can’t be older than eleven or twelve, but she’s got an oddly serious face and talks in a weirdly flat tone. She can see why her sons don’t seem interested in befriending the girl, but other than that oddness, Lizzie don’t seem that weird. Still, Coretta told Carol she’d try to get through to the girl, so she’s going to.

“Carol says yer scared of Walkers,” Coretta lies, not sure Lizzie is gonna be truthful if she asks her about thinking the Walkers are people.

“I’m not scared of them,” Lizzie refutes immediately.

She blinks at the young girl across from her and tries again, “It’s alright if ya are. I mean, they’re nasty dead things tryin’ ta eat ya. They’re kinda scary.”

Lizzie just shakes her head, “They don’t scare me.”

“Why not?” Coretta knows they scare everyone at least a tiny bit. They aren’t natural at all, even she gets a tad nervous when she ain’t got a fence between her and a walker. It’s normal.

“They won’t hurt me,” Lizzie sounds so earnest saying it that Coretta feels a bit like she’s in the twilight zone as she processes that.

“‘Cause there’s a fence?” Coretta tries hopefully. She’d prefer what Mason and Keston told her not be right.

Lizzie shrugs a little and glances a the book they have between them for if someone who ain’t supposed to be in the library during reading time comes by, “I guess. Are you Mason and Keston’s mom?”

She keeps her face from showing her surprise at the sudden topic change and nods, “Sure am, Miss Lizzie, I hope my boys are nice ta ya.”

“Mason calls me crazy. I’m not crazy,” Lizzie tells her in that same flat tone but her eyebrows have come together to glare at her.

“I didn’t know, I’m sorry Mason calls ya that, do y’all not get along?” Coretta thinks she can steer the conversation in the right direction from here.

“No,” she answers simply.

“Is there a reason?” Coretta hedges, she only has an hour before reading time is over and she has to call it quits.

Lizzie shrugs again and picks as her pants leg, “He doesn’t like the game I play.”

“What game?” Coretta doesn’t like where it is going.

“It’s nothing bad, I just named a few walkers,” Lizzie tells her like it’s normal.

“Ya named walkers? Why?” Coretta’s not sure why anyone would want to name them.

“I was bored, and I though they needed names,” She says it simply, says it childlike. If Coretta hadn’t had this girl mentioned to her by her kids and by Carol, she’d probably brush it off as a weird kid thing.

“Y’know they can’t learn their names, right?” Coretta isn’t sure what to make of this. Lizzie’s flat way of talking reminds her a bit of a boy she’d know in middle school that had to go to some special school after he tried to set his homeroom desk on fire before school started one morning. She ain’t sure what was wrong with that boy and she ain’t sure what’s wrong with Lizzie, but she’s really hoping Lizzie’s just playing a game. That she don’t really think Walkers are people.

“You don’t know that,” Lizzie mutters with a glare.

Coretta stares at the girl for a minute, just thinking about what the fuck that little statement means. Fuck. This girl actually does think those things are people. Coretta tries as gently as possible to say, “Miss Lizzie, Walkers ain’t able ta learn nothin’, or they’d be climbin’ up our fence right now.”

Lizzie scowls, “Maybe they will.”

Coretta fuckin’ hopes they don’t. She chews her lip before trying, “They’re not gonna, ‘cause they can’t learn nothin’ anymore. They died, Miss Lizzie, just ‘cause they’re up an’ walkin’ ‘round don’t make ‘em livin’.”

Apparently, Coretta shouldn’t have said that because the girl gets pissed. She gives Coretta a furious look and says in a voice that sounds like she’d be shrieking if she wasn’t in a library, “You’re wrong! They’re just different!”

Coretta is saved by the sound of Carol’s kitchen timer going off to indicate the end of the hour and she offers the girl a tight smile, “Aright, Alright, why don’t ya go play now?”

Lizzie just gives her another glare and runs off to the other kids while Coretta’s sons and Sophia stay behind to help clean up. Coretta stands up and pops her back while Carol comes over quickly, “Well? How’d it go?”

Coretta shakes her head, “Look, I ain’t sure what’s up with that kid, but I ain’t sure ya can fix it. She’s givin’ names ta walkers an’ thinks they’re people, that ain’t normal. Ya should talk ta her daddy ‘bout it.”

Carol looks put out, “She says she’s willing to kill Walkers if she has to, to protect Mica.”

“That’s better than nothin’, I guess. Maybe just never let that one outta the fence if she don’t grow outta it,” Coretta shrugs, she really doesn’t know what to think of Lizzie, but figures so long as she’s not harming anyone, she’s fine.

Carol purses her lips, “Thanks for trying.”

“Ain’t nothin’. Ya really should talk ta that girl’s daddy ‘bout it, though,” Coretta tells her firmly before whistling to her boys and heading back to the cellblock. Mason and Keston are arguing with each about whether Santa Claus is a walker now. Which Coretta hopes means they aren’t too disappointed that they skipped Christmas last winter on account of the apocalypse.

As soon as they get to the courtyard between, her boys take off to where Merle is working on one of the cars. Coretta grins and lets them go, smothering a laugh when she sees Merle jump and hit his head on the hood of the car when her boys scream their hellos at him. She’d call them off, but watching the surly man get out-stubborned by a pair of little kids every day is easily one of the funniest things to her. He doesn’t seem to have a clue what to make of Mason’s— and by extension, Keston’s— interest in him.

“Oh! Coretta! Hi, I was just looking for you!” Coretta freezes at the peppy, hight voice of Meridith and watches the brunette speed walk over to her with a bright, huge, almost painful looking smile on her face.

Coretta’s eyebrows pull together momentarily before she manages to offer a smile back to the woman, “Ya found me, whatcha need?”

“Well, Uh, so this might be kinda weird, I know you and I barely know each other, but I was hoping you could help a girl out,” Meridith sounds all fake embarrassed as she talks.

“With what?” Coretta very much would like to be anywhere but here.

“So I know you’re a busy woman, what with those two boys and all, but I promise it won’t be a super time consuming thing, I heard you’re a close friend of Daryl’s, so I was hoping, that you could, maybe, talk to him for me?” Meridith beams hopefully at her.

“Talk ta him for ya?” Coretta squints a little at the other woman.

“Well, yeah, maybe just see what he thinks of me and tell me what he says? I’ve been trying to get to know him for awhile and he barely says ten words back, and it’s just hard to know what a man thinks when he doesn’t speak, you know?” Meridith laughs kinda nervous like when Coretta doesn’t respond right away.

“Um, ya tried talkin’ ta Merle ‘bout it?” Coretta questions dumbly, “I mean, he is Daryl’s brother.”

Meridith rolls her eyes, “Ugh, I already tried that. I won’t repeat what he said, but it wasn’t polite, I’ll tell you that much. So would you please talk to him for me?”

Coretta plasters in her best smile, the one she’d use on bitchy customers that tipped real well at the bar, “Y’know what, Honey? I’d love ta.”

Meridith actually squeals a little and Coretta wants to know how old this woman is, because she thought she was about Coretta’s age, but she’s acting like a fuckin’ high schooler. Meridith is beaming again, “Thank you so much! You’re the best!”

“Right,” Coretta just smiles and nods and walks away as quickly as she can before the woman causes her to want to throw herself off the roof.

Coretta spends the rest of the day in C-block, bickering with Jesse over nothing while they do any chores that need doing. Normally, he’d be working on building up that wall he’s planned for the hole in the administration building, but they’re out of nails until the next run unless he wants to start unscrewing things around the prison. She doesn’t mention the Meridith thing to Jesse. She doesn’t need her brother giving her shit for her situation. He already has enough ammo to fire at her. She don’t need to give him more.

Coretta takes a mouthful of moonshine that night after she puts the boys to bed and lights a cigarette, sauntering over to Daryl’s perch to offer him one. Daryl takes the offered cigarette and her lighter and jerks his head in invitation to sit. Coretta sits across from him, one leg pulled up to her chest and the other stretched out and eyes him while she waits for the moonshine to make her bold enough to ask. She blows smoke out and takes her lighter back once he’s done with it.

Daryl watches her right back, seemingly unbothered by her silence. He’s got that look in his eyes that she’d noticed awhile back. Coretta inhales another lungful of smoke and tilts her head back and exhales, watching the smoke in the dim light before she breaks the comfortable silence with a distinctly uncomfortable comment, “Y’know Meridith wants ta bone ya?”

She looks back at Daryl to see him frozen and staring unblinking at her with his cigarette held up halfway to his lips. She grins a little as he starts squinting at her like he’s trying to decide if she’s lost her damn mind. He manages to force out, “What the fuck, woman?”

“She asked me ta ask ya whatcha think of her ‘cause apparently we’re in fuckin’ middle school or some shit,” Coretta explains with a wave of her hand.

“An’ ya just agreed?” He sounds a bit like he can’t decide if he should be pissed off or not at her.

“Yeah, sounds ‘bout right. So can I tell her ya ain’t lookin’ ta get with her or nah? ‘Cause ya don’t seem that in ta her from what I can tell,” Coretta takes another drag and grins at him wickedly.

“I don’t give a shit what ya tell her,” Daryl shakes his head like he’s trying to erase whatever unwanted image her words caused him to have.

“Pretty brunettes not yer type?” Coretta tilts her head a little to the side.

Daryl makes a low sound, “Fuck off, woman.”

Coretta’s grin widens as she stands up and she raises her cigarette in the air like she’s toasting with it, “Here’s ta hopin’ blondes got better luck.”

Coretta keeps grinning as he stares at her in what seems to be stunned silence. She winks at him before turning to go to her cell. She hums happily as she goes to get ready for bed, putting her cigarette out in her ashtray while she lets Daryl process that parting comment. Let that bounce around his head for awhile and see what comes of it. Seems like she’s gonna need to be a bit bolder if she doesn’t want this to take the better part of a decade to get moving. This should be a fine start at least, seems she owes Meridith for giving her a perfect way to go about it.

Chapter Text

It takes Jesse all of a week to figure out Coretta is doing her level best to get Daryl to see her as more than a friend. It takes her asshole brother three more days before he says anything about it. Really, Coretta is just impressed he lasted that long. When she figured out she had a crush on Wade, it took Jesse all of five minutes during one of his irregular visits home to figure it out and even less time to start giving her shit for it.

She’s working on cleaning the showers when her brother comes swaggering in with a shit eating grin on his face, “Baby ‘Retta, ya ain’t tryna screw that Dixon fucker, are ya?”

Coretta shoots him a warning look before scrubbing the tile harder, the smell of diluted bleach burning her nose as she works, “How long ya been itchin’ ta ask that?”

“Since I noticed ya givin’ him those big puppy dog eyes ya only ever gave Wade,” He laughs, “Ya ain’t exactly slick, but shit, I figured ya would go for another pretty boy like Wade. Ya that desperate ta get some?”

She rolls her eyes and scrubbed harder, “Since when is it yer business what I do in my bed?”

“It ain’t, but seein’ as yer my sweet baby sister, it’s my job ta give ya shit for yer choice in men an’ it’s my job ta know who’s ass I’m kickin’ if he pulls anythin’,” Jesse leans against the wall, careful not to mess up what she’s already cleaned. He’s good about that, at least. Knows she’s real weird about cleanliness.

“Ya realize I’m twenty-seven, right? I ain’t a little girl no more an’ haven’t been in fuckin’ years,” Coretta raises an eyebrow at him. She politely doesn’t mention Daryl kicked his ass after the cocaine incident.

“Still my sister, still my job ta keep assholes from fuckin’ with ya an’ those boys of yers,” Jesse drawls.

“Maybe worry ‘bout yer luck with that redhead bitch, instead of what I’m doin’ with Daryl,” Coretta points out delicately as she scrubs a particularly stubborn stain on the floor, “Don’t think I ain’t notice ya been turnin’ on the charm whenever she walks in a room. Last time I saw ya like that was back when Maria was in the picture.”

Jesse scowls at the mention of the Puerto Rican girl he’d come so close to marrying years ago, “Ain’t nothin’ close ta that. Hannah ain’t nothin’ like her.”

Coretta smiles a little at that. Jesse really had loved Maria. Had wanted to give that girl everything in the whole damn world. Had even bought her a ring and tried to get clean for her. If Hunter hadn’t died, if Jesse hadn’t upped his use of meth to cope with the loss, she imagines Maria would’ve been her sister-in-law by the time Keston was born. Maria had made him want to be a better man. Made him work to clean his act up. Losing Hunter had ruined all that and Maria wasn’t the type to bleed herself dry to try and fix a man’s problems for him. Coretta privately thought Maria walking away was the best thing for the older woman, even if it wasn’t the best thing for Jesse. Last she’d heard of the woman, she’d moved out west somewhere.

Of course, Hannah ain’t like her. Jesse would never so much as glance at woman that reminds him of Maria. Not in a thousand years. Especially not now, not when in all likelihood, Maria ain’t amongst the living. Her brother has always held Maria up on a pedestal. Being interested in any woman that reminded him of her would have felt like replacing her and Jesse would never be able to do that.

“Good, maybe ya won’t fuck it up this time,” Coretta drawls after a moment of thought.

“Ain’t nothin’ ta fuck up. She’s just pretty. Wouldn’t mind spendin’ some quality time with her,” Jesse sounds torn between annoyance and embarrassment and that’s how Coretta knows it’s more than that.

“Ya say so. If it helps, Hannah likes flowers. She mentioned it when we were doin’ laundry the other day,” Coretta says, internally pleased to turn the conversation away from her and Daryl. Besides, her brother always acts sweeter when he’s got a woman to tell him to quit being an asshole. She ain’t sure ‘bout the psychology of it, but she bets it’s got something to do with their own momma. She thinks she learned ‘bout that in high school.

There’s a pause and Coretta wrings out her rag over her bucket as she waits for him to ask what she knows he’s gonna ask. He clears his throat and asks, real awkwardly, “She say what kind?”

“No, but I bet some real pretty wildflowers would work perfectly,” Coretta offers, “If ya really wanna go hard, next run for more of Rick’s farmin’ shit, I can get ya some flower seeds. Ya can grow her a damn garden.”

“Ain’t no green thumb, ‘Retta, y’know that shit,” Jesse mumbles, “Ya missed a spot.”

Coretta squints at the spot he’s talking about, “Think it’s just part of the damn tile now. Scrubbed it like ten times now.”

Jesse hums, “Ya couldn’t have gone for one of them dumb pretty boys? Like that James idiot? Ya ain’t gotta worry ‘bout them doin’ anythin’. Ain’t got the brain cells ta do much more than make ya happy.”

Coretta snorts, “Wade was a pretty boy. I don’t want another pretty boy. ‘Sides, the boys love Daryl an’ he’s been nothin’ but good ta us for months now. Think that’s a good sign, y’know?”

He kicks at the wall a little and sighs, “Could be worse. Don’t mean I gotta like it.”

“So long as ya don’t try ta kill him, yer free ta dislike it as much as ya want,” Coretta retorts. He certainly hadn’t liked when she started dating Wade. Hadn’t thought he was good enough for her by a long shot. Still ended up viewing Wade as a sorta little brother. Eventually.

“Ain’t gonna kill nobody. Don’t much feel like bein’ kicked outta prison. He do anything though, ya just say the word,” Jesse promises and she knows he’s serious. He rarely says things he don’t mean. Not to her, at least. Not to blood. It’s the most reliable thing about her brother.

“He do anythin’, I’ll let ya have the pieces when I’m done,” Coretta offers him a grin, “I’m a Claire. I can handle my own problems, y’know that.”

“Thought ya were an Evans now,” Jesse drawls, but he’s smiling teasingly and his blue eyes, identical to hers, are bright.

“Was a Claire first. Always gonna be a Claire. Ya said that ta me when ya caught wind of me an’ Wade takin’ off ta Vegas ta get hitched,” Coretta reminds him as she sets to work cleaning the tiles on the wall.

“Still can’t believe y’all did that shit. Shit, I took off at eighteen too, but I didn’t expect ya ta up an’ run an’ get married by fuckin’ Elvis. Like a shitty fuckin’ country song,” Jesse laughs, “An’ don’t try ta tell me Elvis didn’t marry y’all. Wade showed me the fuckin’ picture. Said neither of y’all actually remember it.”

Coretta grins widely, “Sure don’t. Woke up three days into our Vegas trip with a marriage certificate an’ that picture. Wade ‘bout laughed himself sick over it. Went an’ got me that ring once the hangover passed.”

Jesse’s laughter dies and he’s giving her that look he does when he gets worried about her. Eyebrows pulled together and one corner of his mouth twisted down. He squats down where he’s stands by the entrance of the bathroom and sighs, “Wade was a good guy. Ya sure yer ready ta be gettin’ with someone else? Ain’t no shame in takin’ yer time.”

Coretta stops cleaning and sits back on her heels, “I figured, when a month passed and he didn’t show that he was dead. I’ve been mournin’ for over a year now. I’m a damn widow at twenty-seven and it’s the fuckin’ end of the world. Time ain’t exactly on anyone’s side these days.”

He nods a little and grins wide and wolfish, “Alright, ‘Retta, don’t forget protection though.”

He’s retreating as soon as the words are out of his mouth. Coretta throws a rag at him as he runs. His laugher echoes off the walls and so does hers. Her brother has an assload of issues, and she can’t stand him some days, but times like this make her remember the too skinny big brother that used to wake her and Hunter up at two-thirty in the morning to watch movies and would send them out the door to play in the woods before Daddy got home so he was the only one at risk of a beating. She wishes he’d be like this more often. It’d certainly endear him to their people more if he wasn’t a raging asshole half the time.

Chapter Text

Coretta never touches Daryl without asking first. She don’t think much of it, but apparently he does. She’s massaging his scalp again as Beth sings her heart out downstairs and the summer thunderstorm periodically lights up the night with flashes of lighting and thunder that shakes their bones. The boys are passed out cold, Mason cuddling Molly-dog while Red paces downstairs. Coretta is humming quietly to herself as she works her fingers through Daryl’s hair.

“Why ya always do that?” He breaks his silence with a drawled question.

“Do what? Hum?” Coretta doesn’t pause what she’s doing as she speaks.

“Nah, ya always ask if ya can touch me,” He sounds confused and a little tired.

“‘Cause ya don’t like bein’ touched. Ya get all tense an’ shit when someone touches ya,” Coretta thought that was obvious. Jesse’s the same way and Hunter was too. Hell, Coretta ain’t a huge fan of bein’ touched if she don’t know the person well. It’s common fuckin’ curtesy not to touch people without permission.

He grunts a little, “Ain’t gotta ask all the time.”

She laughs quietly at how awkwardly he says it, “I’ll keep that in mind. Still gonna ask though. Gotta make sure, y’know? Don’t need ya biting my head off.”

“Ain’t gonna bite yer head off. Mason would murder me in my sleep if I did,” He says it without skipping a beat and she knows he’s joking with her now.

“Who knew Daryl Dixon’s afraid of a nine year old,” She teases as she works a knot outta his hair carefully.

“Ya meet yer kid? He’s a mean one. Even Merle runs from him,” He grumbles.

“Mason loves y’all though. Ain’t gonna getcha,” She teases, “‘Sides, I’ll protect y’all if he tries.”

“Don’t need no protection from that scrawny kid,” He mutters and tilts his head back a little as she keeps working.

“Whatever ya say, Dixon.”

Daryl makes a contented noise as she massages circles on his scalp. Coretta goes back to humming softly as Beth’s singing comes to an end finally. Thunder is the only thing that breaks the silence. Coretta is mid yawn when he speaks again, “Whatcha want from me?”

Coretta pauses and says carefully, “Not sure what yer askin’.”

“Ya just lookin’ for a screw or something? Ya keep flirtin’ an’ shit,” He sounds like he’s trying not to be too snarly as he clarifies.

She goes back to working knots out of his hair as she answers, “Never been the type for hook ups.”

He makes an irritated noise, “Can’t be whatever the fuck ya want me ta be. Ain’t good for that shit.”

“Good for what?” Coretta shifts behind him as she keeps going.

“Y’know what. Find some other fucker. Ain’t hard, ya can have just ‘bout any dumb fuck ya want here,” He sounds irritated as he speaks.

“Nah, I can’t, ‘Cause the one dumb fuck I want just told me ta settle for someone else,” She points out and withdrawals her hands from his hair.

Daryl hunches into himself as he shifts to eye her, “Ya dunno what yer talkin’ ‘bout.”

Coretta just raises an eyebrow, “If ya don’t want me, ya can say so, but don’t tell me I don’t know what I want. Yer a good man. The best one I’ve met in a long time.”

Daryl’s jaw works back and forth for a second, “I ain’t no good for ya. Y’know who I was before all this? Nothin’, nobody. Ya would’ve had me kicked outta that bar ya worked at if I’d walked in. Wouldn’t’ve thought twice.”

“I know yer a good man. I know ya do yer best ta do right by everyone here. I know yer good with my boys and I know I trust ya more than just ‘bout anyone else,” Coretta counters calmly.

“Ya watched me damn near beat a kid ta death,” Daryl throws out, even in the dark, she can see the way his eyebrows are pulled down.

“And ya heard me threaten ta burn him. I wasn’t bluffin’,” Coretta points out immediately.

“I left, remember? After I told ya I was comin’ back, I left. Didn’t even bother ta say goodbye,” He says it harshly. Like he’s trying to make her mad over it all over again.

“And ya came back. If we’re countin’ sins, we should be countin’ mine too, Don’tcha think?” she snaps it, “When the world went ta hell, I didn’t help anyone. I ignored everyone that needed help cause they weren’t my problem. I watched people die that I could’ve saved, but didn’t. I almost didn’t save Sophia. If Mason hadn’t begged, I doubt I would’ve. When the Governor’s people came through, I shot a bitch through the damn neck and I dream ‘bout it every fuckin’ night. I got my brother ta help me blow people up without a second fuckin’ thought. I think I got ya beat in the shitty things done since the end of the damn world department.”

He’s shaking his head and she can tell he wasn’t expecting that response, “Don’t change nothin’.”

Coretta moves to sit in front on him and tries to read his expression in the dark. She wants to run her fingers over his jaw to make him look at her, but even though he said she don’t need to ask permission, she holds back. Instead she narrows her eyes and says calmly, “And all that shit ya said? Don’t change nothin’ either. Still want ya.”

Daryl makes a noise like he’s dying a little, “Fuck, woman, ya shouldn’t.”

She just tosses her hair over her shoulder and raises her chin, “Tell me ya don’t want me.”

Daryl is stubbornly silent and Coretta gets sick of the silence first, she stands up and stretches, “If ya don’t want me, just say so, ‘cause that’s the only reason I can think of that would get me to drop it. But quit talkin’ like yer scared.”

Daryl stays silent and Coretta shrugs as she walks to her cell. She’s said her piece. He knows where she stands. If he don’t want her, all he has to do is say it. She ain’t gonna beg. Ain’t gonna lose sleep over it. Ball is in his court now.

Chapter Text

Coretta sits in the backseat of the van Glenn prefers to use for runs and fiddles with one of her arrows as they head towards a neighborhood he spotted last time he was out, in search of formula for Judith. It’s them, Rick, and Daryl. Maggie was supposed to go instead of Coretta, but she’d ended up having to help Hershel treat colic one of the horses Michonne had found on her hunt for the Governor.

So Coretta left her boys with Jesse and loaded up into the van. She don’t expect Jesse to keep the closest eye on the kids, but she knows he won’t let them get into trouble at least. Will probably have them help him with whatever work he’s doing while she’s gone. She’s not too worried. Jesse managed to keep her and Hunter alive for years. He can manage a day or two.

Rick keeps messing with the Radio while Glenn drives them through the empty roads and Daryl stares out a window like a fuckin’ golden retriever. Coretta is restless. Runs always make her a little twitchy and she only goes every so often. Prefers hunting and helping around the prison than risking being caught by a group of Walkers while scavenging like a rat. She feels like she’s a fuckin’ thief even though there’s no one left who cares what she takes and she enjoys finding new shit.

When Glenn turns into the neighborhood, she raises an eyebrow. It’s one of those big, fancy neighborhoods. The kind with giant houses with nearly an acre of land between each house. Like the ones her and Wade used to drive through on Christmas for the lights or would take the boys to on Halloween so they could get the good candy. The type of neighborhood she never even dreamed of being able to live in.

They drive in slowly, watching for any signs of living people. Walkers are a given. It’s people that are the question. Always. And whether or not they’ll pose an issue. Coretta has been lucky so far. Every run she’s gone on hasn’t been interrupted by the living. She’d prefer that streak keep on going.

“Alright, Y’all, we’re gonna hit one house at a time. Work slow. Most of these look like two stories, so two will go upstairs, two will check downstairs, got it?” Rick twists around in his seat to look at everyone.

Glenn just puts the car in park in front of the first house. Daryl grunts and puts his crossbow up. Coretta offers Rick a grin, “Ready when ya are, Bossman.”

Rick huffs a laugh at the nickname she’s refused to drop even though he’s not in charge anymore, “Eyes and ears open.”

Coretta nocks the arrow she was messing with onto her bow as she steps out of the car and circles around. Falls in beside Glenn as Daryl and Rick take the lead. She eyes the open area around them as they make their way up the walk way, but there’s no walkers close enough to make her nervous. Nothing worth the effort yet.

Rick bangs on the front door to draw whatever might be in the house to them and waits a minute. When nothing comes, he eases the door open and everyone readies themselves in case there’s something in the house. One walker finally stumbles out into the front hallway and is promptly put down with a bolt in the head. From there they work the house quickly. She and Glenn handle the upstairs, while Daryl and Rick take downstairs. They’re looking for baby formula, but anything useful is taken too. The house is utterly devoid of any signs the people who lived here even had kids, so aside from a few rolls of toliet paper and a bottle of aspirin, they leaving it without much of anything.

The next two houses are about the same. It’s the third house that’s different. They walk in and there’s an empty baby carrier and everything is childproofed and there’s no a single sign of Walkers anywhere in the house. Everything is covered in dust and at first it looks like the family who lived there got out safely. Coretta ain’t sure what it is about the place as they grab the cans of powdered formula from the kitchen and a few new bottles, but something don’t feel right. It clicks when she realizes how much formula they’re taking.

“Y’all, there ain’t no Walkers here. And it looks like they took some of their shit, but they left the formula. So how’d they feed the baby?” Coretta looks around at the men and none of them look comfortable with what she’s asking.

“Maybe they had more? And just couldn’t fit it all?” Glenn sounds forcefully positive.

“I’m gonna go check upstairs. Maybe there’ll be some baby clothes for Judith,” Coretta sets down one of the bottles and heads to the stairs. The uneasy feeling doesn’t fade. Babies need a lot of formula. She don’t get why someone with a baby would leave so much of it behind when the master bedroom downstairs was missing clothes and suitcases and there ain’t no walkers in the house. Maybe the Momma was able to go to breastfeeding. She hopes that’s what happened.

The nursery is easy to find. Second door on the left down the upstairs hallway. It’s painted a pretty pastel green with little bears painted in cream on the walls. It’s quiet and she sets to work searching for anything for Judith. She finds a box of diapers that are just about Judith’s size and a little baby parka. It’s too hot for that right now, but Coretta grabs it anyway. Judith will need something when winter comes. She finds another can of formula and bottles of water since some parents don’t use tap for their baby’s formula. Coretta makes a little pile by the door of shit for Judith.

There’s a noise from the crib that makes Coretta’s blood run cold. It’s not a baby’s cry. It’s a quiet moaning in a little, undeveloped voice. Coretta’s breathing gets harsh and fast and she starts fumbling for a cigarette and her lighter and tries not to look over. Doesn’t want to look in the fuckin’ crib. She manages to get the cigarette lit and she’s got her bow leaned against the wall and she can’t not look. There’s a strange, detached horror setting in as she goes over to stare into the crib and she ain’t sure what noise comes out of her mouth, but it’s low and choking.

There’s a pillow on top of something that’s moving and making tiny Walker noises and the smell coming out of the crib is awful now that she’s noticed it. Now that she’s connecting dots she doesn’t want to be connecting. Everything in her is screaming at her to leave the damn pillow where it is, but her hand is moving without her telling it too and before she knows what’s happening the pillow is in her fist and out of the crib and she just stares down at what’s in the crib. There’s no bite marks. That’s her first hysterical thought. No bite marks and a pillow over him and no dead parents walking around and Coretta can take a guess what happened here.

Coretta has no idea how long she spends staring at the— the thing in the crib. The pillow fell from her hand to the floor at some point and the hand holding her cigarette is shaking hard and her mind is utterly blank aside from distant horror at what she’s looking at. Must have been at the very start. Before people knew everyone who died came back. Coretta’s thoughts are odd and disjointed as she keeps coming up with an explanation for what she’s looking at.

“Coretta! Ya find anythin’?” Daryl’s voice breaks the silence from the doorway and Coretta barely reacts, but she’s distantly aware of him walking towards her and stopping beside her, “Shit. Stop lookin’, ya need ta stop lookin’.”

Coretta’s voice is distant even to her ears, “He ain’t bit. He didn’t get bit. Daryl, there was a pillow over his fuckin’ face an’ he ain’t bit an’—“

Daryl’s hands are on her shoulders and he’s spinning her away from the crib and blocking her view with his body at the same time, “Ain’t nothin’ ya can do. It ain’t yer boys, it ain’t Asskicker, or Sophia, or Carl. Ain’t any of the kids. Don’t fuckin’ look.”

Coretta’s voice is getting faster and higher pitched, “I don’t— I don’t understand. Why’d they do that? Who does that shit? He’s so little an’ he ain’t bit. He ain’t bit. Daryl, he ain’t bit, what the fuck?!”

Daryl pulls her into his chest in a hug that’s half restraining and half comfort and he’s mumbling into her hair as he half carries her out of the room, “I dunno, alright? I dunno. Must not’ve been real good parents or somethin’. It ain’t nothin’ ya can help. Ya can’t help him. He ain’t there no more. He ain’t one of yer boys. It’s alright. Shit, it’s alright.”

Coretta’s distantly aware that the cigarette fell somewhere in the nursery and that she’s crying and she ain’t even sure why because she’s seen walkers. She logically knew this had to be a thing. But she’s crying and shaking and Daryl is somehow getting them down the stairs and she’s distantly aware of him telling Glenn and Rick to get the pile she made by the nursery door and her bow. Can hear him growling at them that it’s time to move on.

“Yer fine, woman. Yer fine. Ain’t nothin’ ya can do. Just can’t think ‘bout it, alright? Gotta put it away somewhere. Don’t think ‘bout it. Ya hear me?” Daryl is still mumbling into her hair as he gets her in the van.

Coretta’s got tears pouring down her fuckin’ face and she knows she looks pathetic— hell, she feels pathetic— but she can’t stop. She can’t stop seeing that baby in that fuckin’ crib and she just don’t know how to rationalize it in her head. Can’t think of why someone would do that. Daryl’s let her go and he’s chewing his thumb hard as his eyes keep flicking to the house and back to her. She ain’t what to say, and ends up stuttering out, “Sorry. I’m sorry. I—“

Daryl’s eyebrows pull together and he looks kinda pissed, “Shit, ain’t nothin’ ta be sayin’ sorry over. Ya ain’t do that shit. Just stay in the van, think we’re headin’ home now. Got plenty of shit for Asskicker. Now, quit sayin’ sorry.”

Coretta’s head is throbbing as her tears finally start to subside around the time Rick and Glenn come out with the rest of the haul and her bow. Daryl takes that and hands it to her, giving both of the other men death glares when they glance at her. Both seem paler than normal though, so Coretta figures they probably know why she’s not doing too hot. It’s an absolutely silent drive back and Coretta doesn’t just starts at the back of Rick’s seat and tries to think about anything other than what she found in that house.

It’s just after sunset that they make it back and as soon as the supplies for Judith are brought inside, Coretta is collecting her sons from Jesse and calling the dogs to her, and pretty much just clings to them for a few hours despite Mason’s complaints that he’s too big for cuddling his Momma. Daryl checks on them once, awkwardly standing in the doorway of her cell well after both her boys have passed out. Coretta blinks at him and without thinking reaches a hand out and gestures for him to comes join her and her boys and the dogs on the too crowded, twin-sized bunk.

He eyes the bed dubiously and shakes his head once before walking over and lifting Mason up and jerking his head towards her cell door expectantly. It takes her a little more maneuvering because she and Keston are wrapped up in the giant green blanket Daryl has found her and she very much doesn’t want it to fall off her. But she manages and Keston only wakes up for a moment before falling back asleep as she carries him out after Daryl, doing her best not to trip over the blanket that’s wrapped around her and dragging the ground. She and the boys end up settled in Daryl’s perch and the dogs follow them up there and there’s not really mattresses to sleep on so much as a pile of animal skins and blankets and a couple pillows and it’s a tight squeeze and warm as all hell with so many bodies, but Daryl puts himself between them and the door and her boys are still passed out without a care in the world and the dogs are snoring already and she’s not shaking with the weird grief, panic, shock she had been earlier.

After awhile, she’s half asleep and pretty sure she’s using Daryl’s leg as a pillow, but instead of complaining or making her move she just hears him mutter, more to himself than to her she thinks, “Gonna be the fuckin’ death of me.”

If it weren’t for how exhausted she is, she’d try and form a response. As it is she just hums a little before giving into sleep entirely.

Chapter Text

In the days after waking up in Daryl’s perch, Mason switches his attention from pestering Merle to somehow always managing to be in Daryl’s vicinity at any given moment. Coretta would call him off, but she ain’t really sure he’s doing any harm and he’s not begging to help with jobs nine year olds got no business doing. So she leaves it be. Daryl can handle a kid trailing him if Mere was able to survive it. Keston is trying his damndest to help Beth with Judith. Her baby is still absolutely obsessed with the baby and talks to her like she can understand him. The fact Beth is so patient with the two smallest children in the prison makes Coretta willing to leave that be too.

She hasn’t mentioned the fact Daryl let her and her boys crash in his perch and neither has he. If it changes anything, Coretta can’t tell. She just continues as she has been, though she keeps more distance between her and Judith than she did before after seeing the walker infant on the last run she went on. She can’t find Molly-dog and she’s got time before she’s supposed to take the afternoon watch so she’s wandering through the parts of the prison that have been secured and calling for Mason’s dumb ass dog. She ain’t sure where the dog has wandered off to and she needs to find her before Mason realizes his dog is missing or she’s gonna have a pissed off kid on her hands.

She’s got a flashlight and her buck knife and she’s whistling for Molly-dog every few seconds. She’s not exactly sure where the fuck she is, but there are arrows on the wall that Glenn painted to show the way back to the cellblock so she ain’t that bothered by it. Wandering around looking for a dog in a fuckin’ prison isn’t really her idea of a good time, but she’s not inclined to losing anymore of her dogs, Lucy was enough.

She turns down one hallway and finds Molly-dog chewing on what looks like a rabbit that’s been tied down to a board. Coretta ain’t sure where the fuck that came from and she don’t really care. She hisses sharply at Molly-dog to leave it and pulls her away by the collar. The dog whines and strains but gives up after a few seconds. Satisfied, Coretta starts back the way she came, dog in hand.

Molly-dog starts losing her absolute shit halfway back to the hallway Coretta came in from and Coretta can hear the issue before the flashlight shows it and she wants to curse. Looks likes there’s a breach from one of the blocked off areas. The good thing about Molly-dog is she’s scared shitless of Walkers since the time her and Red nearly got ate along with Lucy and will reliably haul ass away from them if there ain’t a fence between her and them. Coretta manages to send the dog hauling ass down the right hallway and manages, barely, to follow her without one of the Walkers grabbing her. She’s running after Molly-dog and following Glenn’s arrows religiously as she hears the small herd following after at that ambling, speed walking pace Walkers have when they get all excited.

The dog gets through the door to the rest of the prison first and Coretta following behind and slamming the doors shut as fast as she can. She leans her weight against the door and pants as she tries to form her thoughts. This ain’t good.

“Hey! Sweet cheeks, why ya look like ya got hell chasin’ ya?” Merle’s booming voice shakes her out of her head as she feels the Walkers slam into the door.

Coretta hits the door and grimaces, “Got a breach somewhere.”

Merle’s amusement is gone in an instant and he’s joining her by the door and raising the alarm immediately, “Right, Ya see how many?”

“Least fifteen? Didn’t really stop ta look,” She gives him an impatient look as Rick, Glenn, Maggie, Daryl, Jesse, and Sasha appear. Along with Michonne and some skinny lookin’ black guy she ain’t never seen before. Guess they picked up another stray.

“Merle, get ready. Coretta, when I say, open the door and get back, got it?” Rick has his fuckin’ ax up and ready and the Crazypant’s look in his eyes.

Merle moves away, “Let’s get this shit done, Officer friendly. How the hell is there a damn breach?”

“We’ll figure that out later. Coretta? Now!” Rick snaps it sharply.

The weight of the Walkers on the door forces it open as soon as she starts to open it. There’s probably twenty instead of fifteen as they begin to pour in cans Coretta is cursing as she drives a knife into the base of one Walker’s skull. It’s nasty and brutal and fast as the group puts down the Walkers down. It’s maybe five minutes before the last walker goes down with Rick’a ax in its skull and Coretta is slamming the door closed again.

“‘Retta! Y’know where the breach is?” Jesse is wiping the gore off the knife he’d been using and glaring irritably at the door to the tombs.

“Not exactly but I can point y’all in the right direction,” Coretta thinks of the rabbit Molly-dog had been chewing on and figured she can find it easy enough.

“Hell were ya doin’ in the fuckin’ tombs?” Daryl pulls one of his bolts out of a walker and gives her one of his annoyed looks.

“Lookin’ for Molly-dog,” she points at the brown and white Pitbull as she sniffs one of the bodies, “Found her.”

“Good thing she was, now we know there’s a breach,” Maggie huffs and crosses her arms, “We need to go in and fix it.”

“We don’t have the supplies right now. It’s better if we just block any doors to the tombs off,” Michonne shakes her head at Maggie’s suggestion.

“Sounds like a run is in order,” New guy points out.

Coretta eyes him as she lights a cigarette, “Who are ya?”

He offers an awkward smile and steps forward to offer a handshake, “Bob, I was a combat medic.”

Coretta hums and shakes his hand once, “Ya gonna help Dr. S and Hershel out then?”

“He just got here, Coretta. Give him some time to settle in before we put him to work,” Glenn scolds lightly.

“Could always use more people who know how ta fix people, is all,” Coretta mutters and takes a drag from her cigarette as she eyes the newcomer. He looks kinda twitchy, but she chalks it up to being in a new situation and having a shitload of Walkers come at him.

“Think the bigger problem is the fuckin’ hole in our defenses,” Merle drawls with a scowl.

“I can make another run tomorrow? Take Daryl and the Zack kid that’s been begging to go,” Glenn offers with a glance at Daryl. He grunts an affirmation and pulls Molly-dog away from the bodies.

“I’ll go too,” Michonne says it more than offers. No one is going to mention she hasn’t spent more than a night or at a time in the prison in months.

“You already have a run planned in a week and you just got back,” Maggie counters as she turns to her man. Coretta thinks they’re calling each other husband and wife now, but she ain’t sure how that works in the apocalypse.

“I can go,” Jesse drawls, “Used ta help with runs back in Woodbury.”

“In between kidnappin’ people?” Maggie snaps without hesitation.

“I’d like ta remind ya, I did not do that part, Merle did,” Jesse glares balefully at the brunette.

“You really want to get into the details, Claire?” Glenn counters.

“Enough. Claire, go get whatever you need to block this door off for now. Glenn’s already plannin’ a run in a week. We can wait ‘til then. Coretta, get to watch. Everyone else, if you don’t have something you’re supposed to be doin’, help Claire,” Rick orders before Jesse gets into it with Glenn and Maggie again.

Coretta rolls her eyes and heads to the showers first. Watch ain’t ‘til noon for her and she’s got at least an hour before then. She wants to wash the gore off and change before her watch. Ain’t no reason to smell like a corpse.

Daryl catches up to her as she’s nearly to the bathroom, “Ya bit?”

Coretta rolls her eyes, “I’m ‘bout to shower, yer free ta join if ya wanna check me over.”

He makes a noise in his throat and mutters, “Just answer the damn question.”

“What? I thought it was a perfectly good idea,” Coretta’s lips twist into a sly grin.

“Woman, yer gonna drive me up a damn wall,” he sounds like he can’t decide if he’s annoyed by that or not.

Coretta pauses at the bathroom door and grins wider, “I ain’t bit. But the offer stands if ya wanna double check. ‘Sides, ya could use a shower too.”

Daryl chews his thumb as stares down at her like he’s genuinely considering it for a second before he shakes his head, “Outta yer damn mind, y’know that?”

She just offers a beaming smile in return before heading into the bathroom with a final parting shot, “If ya didn’t like it, ya wouldn’t talk ta me.”

Chapter Text

Jesse gets the door to the tombs rigged so that Coretta thinks it may actually take an act of God to break it down. She’s not sure what prompts it, but word gets out about her moonshine and someone— she suspects James, but she’s not sure— decides that since everything’s been going so well, a party is in order. How the hell he got the council to give it the green light is beyond her. But now she’s being asked by James to donate to her ‘shine to the party and she’s not exactly thrilled by the thought. She’s already given Hershel and Dr. S two jars to use for sterilizing shit and she don’t like the idea of the whole prison that ain’t on watch being fucked up. Don’t sound like a good idea. She’d honestly rather give the rest to Jesse to burn for fun than have most of the adult population fucked up.

“C’mon, Coretta, what’s a party without drinks?” James is smiling wide and cajoling at her as she smokes a cigarette and leans against a prison wall.

“Said I’ll think ‘bout it, didn’t I? Take that as a fuckin’ win an’ leave me alone,” She snaps and blows smoke out. He’s been arguing with her for her to outright agree for two cigarettes now. She’s fuckin’ sick of it.

“We don’t even need all of it. Moonshine is supposed to be strong, right?” James goes on.

“Ya ever fuckin’ drink ‘shine? ‘Course it’s fuckin’ strong,” Coretta rolls her eyes and turns to leave, having had enough of this. She’s gonna go check with Hershel. He’s on the council. If they agreed to an alcohol fueled party, he’ll tell her.

Then James makes the fuckin’ error of grabbing her goddamn arm, “So it’s fine?”

Coretta’s teeth grind and she contemplates putting her cigarette out on the hand around her arm seriously for a moment, “Get the fuck off me if ya want a goddamn chance of even smellin’ the ‘shine. I’m gotta clear that shit with the damn council. Ain’t gonna get my ass chewed out ‘cause yer a fuckin’ idiot.”

James lets her go and makes a face, “A few drinks won’t get you in trouble. Besides, we’re adults.”

Coretta don’t respond to that. It ain’t about being adults. It’s about not being fuckin’ dumbasses. She hardly ever touches her ‘shine and when she does it’s only a mouthful or two before going to bed. She don’t go trying to get fucked up in a damn apocalypse. She don’t particularly care to end up getting bit because she was too drunk to kill a walker. She just puts her cigarette back to her lips and walks off. She doubts her moonshine was mentioned in the council meeting. Knowing the council, they agreed to a small bonfire in one of the areas the walkers on the fence can’t see and extra food or something.

She makes sure to put her cigarette out before going to take to Hershel. He don’t like the smoke and she don’t wanna piss him off. He’s checking on Rick’s pigs and managing it perfectly fine without a leg. She leans her elbows on the makeshift fence Rick built when they found the pigs and eyes the animals idly, “Hey, Hershel, what all got approved for this party thing tonight?”

Hershel doesn’t look up from where he’s checking on pig and takes his sweet time responding. When he does, it’s in the same slow, calm tone he always uses, “I believe there’ll be food and music.”

“This a dry event?” Coretta questions. If he says yes, she ain’t about to be sharing her ‘shine. She don’t need him giving her his disapproving looks.

Hershel gives her one of his looks. That fatherly indulgence mixed with disapproval look she’s only ever seen him manage to give anyone, “If an adult has alcohol and wants to drink it, there’s no reason they can’t. Though, I do suggest limiting your consumption.”

That’s how Coretta ends up parting with four jars of her remaining nine jars that Jesse has to damn near pry out of her hands when she hands them over. She ain’t thrilled to be doing it, but everyone needs a night to unwind and Rick and Michonne are handling watch for the night, something Coretta privately thinks is the council’s poor attempt at keeping Michonne from taking off again in the morning. Jesse promises her cigarettes and coffee if he can find them when he goes on a run when he takes in her irritated look at parting with more of Wade’s moonshine.

The kids are running around the area that’s been set up for the little party and they’re all wired on whatever sugar they’ve managed to scrap up. She’s right, there is a little bonfire in the middle of the ground chosen for this and someone found a radio with full batteries and a shit load of cds and there’s music, not very loud, just loud enough to enjoy.  Food too, Carol cooked a lot of it. She can tell. Carol is the best damn cook they have. There’s shitty lemonade too, the kind that’s made by that mixing those little tubes of powder into water and Coretta can taste the shine when she takes one and grimaces. One or two glasses will have most of the people here fucked up. Either James underestimated how strong her moonshine is or Jesse decided to pour the drinks out and made them the strength he likes for a mixed drink. Hard to tell, really.

Carol seems to have put herself in charge of shooing the teenagers away from the drinks with a sweet smile and a sharp warning. Merle is talking loud as can be to James and the new guy, Bob. Tyreese and Karen talking to David and Sasha. Coretta can see Lizzie and Mika’s daddy talking to Hershel. Dr. S is telling Meridith about the work he did before shit went to hell. Jesse has managed to get Hannah to let him spin her around like it’s a club instead of a prison party as the music plays. She’s beaming up at Coretta’s brother and she can’t tell what he’s saying to the redhead but she knows it’s something slick. Maggie and Glenn have pretty much moved in by the food and Beth and Zack keep trying to sneak off.

Coretta has found a quiet place to relax and just people watch. She’s content with that. Ain’t in the mood for a lot of people, but she wasn’t inclined to missing the only party they’ve ever had either. So she’s got a cigarette and her cup of moonshine with some shitty lemonade in it and she’s watching the kids running wild and the adults unwind and she’s content enough.

James comes over and she can tell immediately that he can’t hold his liquor. The man is staggering a little and he’s got that stupid look on his face only the really drunk seem capable of. He’s slurring when he speaks, “Coretta! You’re a fuckin’ godsend, you know that? I owe you big time for sharing your drinks.”

Coretta offers a thin smile and flicks ash off the end her cigarette, “Ain’t nothin’.”

“No, really, you’re fuckin’ awesome. What’re you doing all alone? C’mon, got a whole fuckin’ party,” He tries to grab her hand to pull her to her feet from where she’s sitting but she jerks her hand back before he can.

“I’m happy where I’m at, thank ya,” She narrows her eyes at him warily, “Think I hear Merle callin’ ya. Should go see what he wants.”

James squints like he suddenly don’t understand plain fuckin’ English, “I don’t hear anything.”

“I sure did. Go see what he wants,” Coretta pushes and puts he cigarette to her lips to take a drag.

“In a minute. You’re really a beautiful woman, you know that? Like shit, I know you got kids and all, but I don’t get why you don’t have a man. But damn, if you’d let me, I’d love to repay that favor you did giving me the shine,” He gives her a smile that’s probably supposed to be flirty, but just looks drunk and stupid.

“Excuse me?” Coretta narrows her eyes and blows smoke directly in his face out of spite.

“You heard me, we can have a damn good time, just the two of us,” He’s leaning over her now and she’s leaning away.

“Ya threw a real nice fuckin’ party. Don’t fuckin’ ruin it,” She hisses in irritation. She don’t like this shit one bit.

He tries to touch her again and on instinct the hand she has resting beside her drink flashes out and slaps his hand away hard. He jerks back and glares, “What the fuck?”

“Don’t fuckin’ touch me,” She snaps. She knows if this idiot doesn’t back off and Jesse notices, her brother is liable to murder a man tonight. She’d rather not have to beg the council to let him stick around.

James’ pretty face twists into something ugly, “Fine, just tryin’ to be nice, bitch.”

Coretta keeps glaring at his back as he staggers off and she’s had enough of the party already. She checks her boys and makes sure they know when Carol tells Sophia to go to bed, they have to too. Satisfied they’re going to listen and sick of the party, she heads back to the cellblock, a fresh cigarette dangling from her lips and the dogs ambling along beside her. Daryl’s the only one in the cellblock and Judith is fast asleep in the crib Rick found for his daughter. Coretta doesn’t think before joining him up in his perch.

“Ain’t at the party?” He raises an eyebrow as he works on his crossbow.

“Nah. Sucks ass. James sucks at throwin’ parties. Cig?” Coretta settles down against the wall beside him and offers him her pack.

He takes one with a muttered thanks, “Wasted yer shine on a shitty party.”

“Ain’t like I been drinkin’ it. Why ain’t ya down there gettin’ fucked up?” Coretta leans her head back and blows smoke into the air.

“Ain’t lookin’ ta be a fuckin’ idiot tonight,” He sets his crossbow aside as he finishes working on it and stretches his legs out in front of him.