#lizzie considers relieving it all a part of her duty of care

[divinekangaroo]

it's interesting how characters do take on a certain position in headspace as you write. i've been trying since june last year to find a scenario where lizzie would legitimately wear tommy's clothes while they have sex, including having him very lightly imply this might be possible in passing at inappropriate intervals (the night of his daughter's death was a terrible time for him to do this really, even if i buy into the whole 'please be me because i can't cope with being past me or current me right now' that motivated [me to write] it), but...

lizzie is just so femme she doesn't even have a framework to acknowledge these suggestions are anything other than tommy putting random words one after the other. wear some boxy unfitted man's suit instead of her amazing, cutting edge fashionable dresses? not lizzie

#it will take place in one of those many post-death scenarios #when i really lean into the whole lizzie becomes him [unhealthily] in his absence; the haircut was one thing #the clothes will come and then a return to the midland hotel #in the meantime lizzie would without hesitation have sex with sleeping (drugged) tommy if he happened to have an erection #she wouldn't even tell him after.so idek really #the man is suspicious of why she keeps encouraging him to take more sleeping pills and chase them with booze #'if you can't get it up while you're awake.well.then....' #sleeping pills can.in a rare but known adverse reaction.cause unwanted erections or maybe priapism which would be painful if conscious #lizzie considers relieving it all a part of her duty of care #obs this is not medically accurate because actual priapism can't be relieved that way but you know... #she does get desperate there for a bit

[justjessame]

The Deal Chapter 19

After the Governor’s defeat, our community at the prison grew and thrived. Dad and Hershel made plans to use the fertile land surrounding us for farming. Carl worked hard to go back to being “normal”. Beth found love. Daryl and Glenn managed to find peace between them, and worked together on runs and keeping up our numbers and morale.

During one run, they find a man named Bob Stookey. And another member is added to our population. Hershel, Dad, Carl, and Beth prep the land for crops as I keep Judith occupied on a blanket nearby, enjoying the sun and laughing at my brother’s attempts to become a farmer. It feels like we might have finally found IT. That elusive place that my dad kept promising.

With the aid of our new members, with the ingenuity of Hershel’s experience, and with the aid of the prison library we keep adding conveniences. Running water being the one I most enjoy. Everyone has a part to play. With my decision to make sure Judith is raised without the cloud of terror hanging over her innocent head, Dad decides the other children will be added to my self-imposed burden. I become the head of our daycare. Keeping the kids, none as young as Judith, occupied while their parents perform their own jobs.

I’m not their teacher, nor do I want to be. Instead, I am their caretaker between the classes that other adults teach. I’m in charge of their fun, reading them books, taking them on walks so they can enjoy the world that isn’t overrun by biters, and watching as they act out plays that children their age can perform. Carol takes storytime almost daily, even with my own version, and it’s then that I take Judith and rest. Classes aren’t long in the prison, but my days feel full. And I take all the pleasure I can in seeing my baby sister grow and my baby brother find himself outside of the blood and gore that was overtaking his existence.

Michonne and Daryl keep Carl in comic books, every run seemingly adds to his growing collection. And Daryl keeps me in small tokens of luxury that he knows will make me smile. A bottle of sweet smelling shampoo he found in some pharmacy or lotion for myself, instead of the baby scented bottles we keep for Judith and the other children. He offers each tiny gift with that smile that I’ve grown to love so much. And then, late at night, after each member of our community has closed the curtains and blankets that we call doors, he and I slip away to our own spot. Far away from the others, in a section that actually has a real door, we can take our time with one another. Even nights that have no moon to shine through the tiny window of the area we’ve made our home, in darkness we can find one another. Because at night, Dad takes over the care of Judith, and Daryl takes care of me.

Every time a new person or group appears to seek refuge with our group, my dad asks three questions. The answers are important, but more so the inflection that these newcomers answer each becomes tantamount to our safety. “How many walkers have you killed? How many people? Why?” I rarely witness these interactions. Keeping Judith away from anyone who hasn’t been vetted, who hasn’t been deemed safe, is my sole responsibility. Even if Carol has taken her to play or if Beth has her as an audience for one of her solo performances. I find my baby sister, and I keep her hidden away. Sometimes, I have to hide for longer than I’d care to, forced to neglect my duties to the other children, as Daryl, Dad, Hershel, and our other leaders take their time to decide on these newly arrived people. In the end, it’s worth it. Keeping her safe, away from eyes that would see her as a weakness or a target keeps me busy. And once the decision is made, my routine returns to normal, until the next influx.

Carol found comfort in a new relationship. A man with two daughters, Lizzie and Mika, and who has to be locked in his cell nightly because of sleepwalking. Ryan Samuels, a nice man who seems to treat his daughters and Carol well. I’m happy for her. She takes up the job of head chef and seems to enjoy the storytime she started, which she’s earned. The peace, the quiet, and the comfort. After Ed, and then the loss of Sofia, Carol deserves any happiness she finds.

I watch these new people, their ways and their actions, making sure that no one got past Dad’s questions by accident. While Dad is governing with help, I am staying clear of any role that would hand me more responsibility. I have more than enough, I think, as I watch Dad and Carl become more at ease with one another. While I watch Carl’s harsh edges start to smooth a bit, and Daryl learns to pick up more leadership than I think he’d ever considered for himself.

I laugh more now, than I have for some time. Seeing Beth fall for a boy named Zach and seeing Zach try so desperately to make himself useful. Most of my laughter comes from his insistence in trying to guess Daryl’s past life job. He tries so hard to get me to give him hints, but I shrug and chuckle. Daryl’s past doesn’t matter to me, as mine doesn’t even seem real to me now. Carol still teases my love every chance she gets, calling him “Pookie” or reminding him of his sweetness, in full view of all the people who have a trace of hero worship for my sweet man.

He’s gone back to hunting, without me since I've become a full-time parent to my sister. And Daryl’s aim is forever true, bringing back a big game that half our community had never enjoyed, not even in the before that most of us know better than to mention. I find myself laughing at the people who rush to thank him, that want to shake his hand, because the look on Daryl’s face, a mixture of awkwardness and incredulousness will forever make me laugh. He doesn’t see himself the way they do, he can’t even seem to see himself the way I do.

After Michonne comes back from a supply run alone, with nothing more than comic books for Carl’s growing collection, I know that a real run will need planning. And, as soon as that thought flashes, I know that Daryl will go. He always does. And now, after going through all that we have so far, he doesn’t fight me on the goodbyes I have to say. On the closeness I need to feel before he leaves me. Because, seeing Merle die at his hands, he knows as clearly as I do, that it doesn’t always end the way we want it to.

Maggie is scheduled for the next run, but I watch as Glenn takes her spot, and feel like I should find her. Make sure she’s alright, that she isn’t sick or- The thought rushes through me and I close my eyes. I have time, before Daryl leaves and before I have to get to work, so I run to Maggie and Glenn’s “room”. “Hey?” I offer Judith bouncing on my hip. Maggie smiles up at me from her seat on the bed. “I saw that Glenn’s taking your spot, wanted to be sure you’re ok.”

I can see the blush burn on her cheeks and bite my lip. “I’m fine.” Her accent is thicker when she’s embarrassed or any of her emotions are higher. “He’s a worrywart.”

She slides over so I can sit, and she reaches for Judith letting my arms have a break. “Does he have reason to be a worrywart?” I ask, since we’ve settled in the prison, Maggie and I have become closer. We’re basically the same age, and she was there when Lori-

I watch her studying my baby sister, taking her time to answer. “Not yet.” Her answer is quiet, and I understood. Those extra condoms that I’d overhead them bantering about at the farm were long gone. And they’re married now. It’s just a matter of time.

“Are you-” I stop, wondering if it’s my place to even feel curious. Would I, if we weren’t surrounded by the hellscape we were in, be asking the same thing of a friend? Feeling sure I would, I go on. “Are y’all trying?”

She squints at Judith’s button nose, considering my question. “We aren’t NOT trying.” And I have to giggle, which makes her own slip out. “I don’t know, Jessi, I see this little one and I think why not? But then I remember-”

Covering her hand with mine, I nod. We’ll both always remember how Judith came into this world as Lori went out. “Just let me know, when you are, trying, I mean.” I wink at her and stand. Holding out my arms so she can hand Judith over. “I have to go say goodbye, see Daryl off.” Kissing Judith’s soft head absently. “Come find me if you need company. All those kids need more distracting than I can come up with.”

My day, after kissing Daryl with more passion than I think his run mates cared to witness and forcing out the familiar promises on both sides, went along the well worn routine that I’d begun when routines became real again. I kept the kids occupied between classes, and felt so much pressure off my shoulders when Carol relieves me for storytime. Taking Judith for a long nap, for both of us, I woke up to Carl looking like he was ready to throw up, standing in the cell that I used during the day.

“What’s going on?” I ask, fear creeping in. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Judith was awake too, sitting in her crib playing with the toys that kept being found during runs.

Looking around us, he asked if we could take Judith for a walk. And I knew, whatever he was about to tell me was bad news. Carl took Judith in his arms and we walked out of the building and down to the fence, away from prying ears. And there, rocking Judith in his arms, getting as much calm from her sweetness as I did, he told me that Carol’s storytime wasn’t exactly what Dad and the others thought it was. That Carol, the consummate mother and quiet one, was teaching the kids how to weld and use knives. Closing my eyes, letting Carl tell me that she was fucking TRAINING children in the art of killing, I felt that fear that I thought I’d over come come creeping back in harder, with longer tentacles and that it was wrapping around me once again.

And here, away from the crowds of our population, away from the pig family that Dad and Carl had built a pen for, away from the walkers that were crowding around one part of the fence, I knew without a doubt that our world wasn’t nearly as safe as we wanted it to be. And, a snide part of my brain reminded me, it never would be.

#daryl dixon x ofc #eventual negan x ofc #mention of smut #mental illness #rick grimes daughter #angst #The Walking Dead #alternative universe