The older man looked over at Addison with a raised brow and the other woman asked, “Really?”
There was a bashfulness to his expression as he made eye contact and he rubbed the back of his neck with a quiet chuckle. “I don’t know about that…” He wasn’t used to someone showing such confidence in him unless they were out scavenging and trouble reared its ugly head. For a moment, it was similar to the old days before the outbreak, when his brother would compliment him for his fair shooting when they’d go out hunting with friends. He took the rifle from the woman, adding, “I’ll try my best.”
Looking over at the various targets as the woman spoke up, telling him that he could do anything he put his mind to, he rubbed his beard. The targets were spread apart and he asked, “Which one do I need to hit for the rifle?”
“Well,” Stacy crossed her arms over her chest and grinned. “Since Addison is so confident in your skills, you have to shoot all of the targets.”
Arthur gave the weapon a quick once over, just to make sure everything worked correctly. He’d seen too many accidents and deaths occur because some idiot hadn’t double checked their gun before using it. Hell, he was guilty of that in particularly tight and chaotic gunfights. He didn’t want to shoot and cause an accidental injury to anybody here. Once he was sure it was deemed acceptable, he nodded his head to the side and lifted the butt of the rifle against his shoulder and pressed his cheek against the stock. As his finger slipped onto the trigger, Arthur felt his heart rate increase as a familiar wave of adrenaline hit him. Everything came to him naturally. The gun felt like another part of himself. An extra limb he’d learned to use after so many years. At Addison’s quip, he glanced in her direction with another breathy chuckle. His own eyes sparkled with a new mirthy amusement and he nodded his head once, moving it away from the gun for a moment to reply, “I could out-hunt you with my eyes closed, anklebiter.”
He readied the weapon and focused the sights on the first target and fired with a quick exhale. The can with a red dot painted on it fell over and the other three followed suit, each flying off the railing with a loud clang. Four of the metallic targets had dried paint on them with three circles and each were hit in the middle circle. Arthur’s brows furrowed as he aimed to the final target, a makeshift scarecrow, with six circles painted on it. Three were on its chest and three were on its head. A bullet hit the center of the chest and there was a pause before another hit the circle in the middle of the head. Someone let out a long whistle and Arthur looked behind him to find four or five others had stopped to watch him shoot. Another awkward expression appeared before he wiped it off with his usual neutral lok, silver brows furrowed. Well, that was a little weird… He was used to having people watch him shoot, but most of the time it was because he was shooting at them. Not for them. He hadn’t been running a show here, either, but… Well, it was weird.
His attention swiveled to the hunting rifle as Stacy handed it over to him, switching out the one he’d used for the own he’d won. His movements were a little stiff because a hot flash of pain hit, but he forced himself to act natural. Arthur could act like he was fine until Addison got to bed. He didn’t need her worrying over him. She was obviously impressed with his work. “Hot damn, Arthur! That was some really good shooting! You’ve got great aim and the way you handled the rifle was just… Wow! If you can teach Addison that skill, then you two will be the talk of the town!”
A nervous hum rumbled in Arthur’s throat as he averted his eyes, feeling a little better once the tiny crowd left. “It’s, uh, nothin’ too… I’ve just had a lot of practice.”
"It had long since come to my attention that people of accomplishment rarely sat back and let things happen to them. They went out and happened to things." -Leonardo Da Vinci
"It's over, Anakin! I have the hashbrowns!" -My Bro-Bro
"Damn right you will!" Addison replied encouragingly, resisting the urge to continue bouncing up and down. The last thing she wanted was to distract Arthur while he tried to shoot. The young girl eyed each target as Stacy pointed out the ones that Arthur would need to hit in order to win. It was a bit more than she anticipated - and clearly her excitement got the better of her as Stacy also added that he would need to hit all of them. She gave a sheepish grin at first, but quickly replaced it with a scoff and a wave of her hand. "Pfft. Arthur can do that easy." Once Arthur had stuck the rifle against his arm, Addison focused her attention on the targets, a small giggle escaping her as Arthur teased her.
Addison held her breath as he readied to shoot. She could see the familiar pattern of him preparing to shoot - she'd seen it a dozen times, after all. If anything, this would be easier to do than shooting ophies - these targets didn't move, and they didn't fight back.
Within two breaths, Arthur had taken down the targets in rapid succession. As the now-mangled scarecrow fell backwards, Addison pumped both of her fists in the air and turned to Arthur. "Yes! I knew you could do it! I fucking told you!" After Arthur handed Stacy the rifle again and retrieved the new one, Addison gave him a light double-punch on the bicep. "You're almost as good as me and Chris." Despite the teasing, she beamed as she looked up at him, taking note of the small crowd of whistles and praise coming from behind them. Addison turned and looked at all of them. It reminded her of when they first walked into the settlement. People looked and gawked with curiosity. Now they looked on with amazement and joy. Who knew things would ever turn out like this?
With cheeks red from the embarrassment of onlookers (which hopefully passed off as the cold), Addison turned her attention back on the hunting rifle and took in its form. "That's a nice-looking gun," she commented as she reached out towards the forestock. The surface was mostly smooth and didn't possess much damage to its exterior. Whoever had it before now took good care of it. The two of them had pooled a fine collection of weaponry together, that was for sure. "Where do you think it should go? I think we should make one of those badass gun rack things and stick it over the fireplace. We've gotta show it off to anyone who visits!" Her eyes gleamed with possibilities as she pulled her hand away. She shook her head for a moment, steamrolling over her own thoughts with a sudden realization.
"Where the fuck did 'anklebiter' come from?" She gave a belly-laugh as the name sunk into her brain. After lightheartedly calling him 'old man' so often, it was surprising to hear him return the favor with a unique name of his own.
Seeing his little girl all excited and proud of him made happiness swell within Arthur’s chest. He raised a brow and offered her a small smile, chuckling when he felt two hits to his arm. The pain flared and Arthur winced, but played it off with a cough, rubbing his hand over his mouth as if he had something stuck in his throat instead. It was such an odd thing to experience in this new, cruel world. Happiness. Happiness was rare and could usually only be found in one’s next meal, but Addison. Addison brought Arthur so much happiness. She was the light in his never ending, grim, dark tunnel She had started to bring back his humanity and made the world worth living besides the constant means to survive. Although she annoyed the hell out of him, Addison was a firecracker and one that continuously drew him to her. The way she got overly excited over the smallest things, or how she would tease him, or playfully give him a hard time while he was in his usual, grumpy mood amused him. Amusement was another quality the redhead had that made him happy and he would listen to her bad jokes all of the time if they weren’t always being thrown or interrupted into bad situations. Well, since they were in Chris’s settlement, maybe now he would get the chance to listen more often. Maybe he would get to learn more qualities about her that made her so unique.
Wait.
Since when had Arthur referred to her as his little girl– even in his head?
No, that was not allowed.
He couldn’t do that. Addison was not his family. Addison was not his daughter. Addison was not his anything. She had a real father who would weep and pull her into a big embrace when he finally sees her. A father who would keep her safe and would laugh outwardly at her jokes. A father who would make her feel whole and wanted and loved. Arthur couldn’t do that. Arthur couldn’t make her feel like she was home. Not like an actual father could. He had never had his own kids, so it was obvious that he wouldn’t be able to take care of her properly. Not when she had her biological father out there somewhere. Addison still had to find her real father and he still had to leave her here. Apparently, that was going to be something the old survivor would have to remind himself frequently for the next few months. Again, a hand gripped at his heart, an ache of pain spreading its way further throughout his chest like the virus that infected people. He cast his gaze down to his snow covered boots and swallowed, but immediately looked up with a forced twitch of a smile, nodding at what the redhead had told her. “That you did.”
When she joked that he would eventually be as good as her and his brother, he glanced off to the side with an eye roll, scoffing out another chuckle. “Oh, I have no doubt about that,” he stated, taking a few steps towards her, patting her shoulder before he let it fall back to his side. Another soft smile pulled at Arthur’s chapped lips and he blinked at Addison while she started prattling on about a gun rack. He scratched at his beard and shrugged, “We can make one. Just need some wood, the right tools, and a lot of space to work with. Though, I was thinkin’...” His eyes flicked down to her face as he looked past her at the giant tree further away. “...we would use this while we went out hunting sometime. Maybe tomorrow afternoon.”
Had Arthur changed his mind about taking Addison out to scavenge? No, but he had decided to give in and let her use the new gun they had acquired as another Christmas present. Arthur felt a little guilty for all the times he had lashed out at her for stupid mistakes and getting her another new gun was one of the ways he could think to make up for them. He didn’t think she held any of that against him, but still. It would make him feel better to know that she had another weapon when he wasn’t with her anymore, too. Heaving out a long sigh through his nose, a cloud of white mist dispersed into the crisp air and Arthur returned his attention to her when she asked him about her nickname. The old man nodded his head to the side and walked around her, placing his head on the area between her shoulder blades. “I thought it suited you,” he hummed, guiding her back towards the restaurant. “You’re annoying and loud and don’t even get me started on you runnin’ that mouth of yours in the worst situations.” His tone was playful, gray-blue hues twinkling with mischief.
A new snowfall began to thicken, but the snowflakes were gentle in their descent and some got caught on Arthur’s silver lashes and hair. An icy cold breeze bit at his reddened cheeks and stung his eyes and he looked down at Addison with some worry. She was a lot smaller than he was, so he was positive that she might’ve been a lot colder than him. Even with the scarf on. He contemplated his next move with much hesitation, rubbing his fingers together in the palm that was on her back. Clenching his jaw, Arthur moved his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer, tucking her beneath his coat as best as he could given how short it was. “You’re freezing. Gotta keep you warm enough till we get home.” Tilting his chin away, he muttered, “Careful where you aim that end,” he offered her a smirk and added, leaning a little closer, “anklebiter.”
Arthur nodded his head towards the tree and said, “Let’s get back to the cabin.” He blinked and walked in a comfortable silence one their way back up to their cabin. He’d made sure that Addison didn’t slip on the mud or ice too much, keeping his grip on her gentle, but firm. There were a few lanterns lit on the trail, giving them just enough light so they wouldn’t trip over their own feet. Moving away from Addison, he walked up the stairs and opened the front door for her. “Let’s get in here and get warm. Maybe scrounge up some coffee if we have any left.”
Once she was in the house, he followed suit and shut the door behind her. It wasn’t as cold as it was inside, but fuck, it was still cold. Arthur rubbed his hands together for a moment before he locked the door and crossed the room into the living room. Leaning down with a breathy grunt, he started taking the pile of wood into the fireplace and he felt his wound flared once more with each movement. Pressing his lips together, he shut his eyes and stood from his spot, picking up the matches that had been placed on the surface of the fireplace. Striking one, he tossed it into the fire and waited for the flames to spread. Standing up once more with a pained sigh, the old man snatched up the box of matches, stuffed it into his back pocket, and grabbed four logs of wood, and headed up the stairs. On his way up, he yelled to Addison, voice getting more muffled the further up the staircase he went, “Can you see if we have any coffee or tea we can warm up? I’ve got the fire goin’ in the living room. Gonna start one in your room so you won’t turn into an ice cycle tonight.”
Arthur was already in Addison’s room, kneeling down by the mini stove he had placed in there for the frigid, snowy weather. Chris made sure Arthur had two of them, but Arthur rarely got cold, so he didn’t take the second stove offered to him. Once the fire was lit in the bedroom, Arthur rubbed his shoulder again and inhaled a deep breath when his nerves screamed at him, demanding him to stop with a sharp pain. Yeah. It was going to be a while before that healed. Rolling his eyes, he sighed and flared up at the ceiling. And you expect to go hunting tomorrow with this injury. He was planning on going despite the pain. Had they not been in a safe haven, then he would’ve made himself go hunt anyway. With another hefty, tired sigh, Arthur shut the door to the mini stove and walked out of the room and back downstairs to check and see how Addison was doing, his boots knocking against the wooden floor. “Any luck?”
"It had long since come to my attention that people of accomplishment rarely sat back and let things happen to them. They went out and happened to things." -Leonardo Da Vinci
"It's over, Anakin! I have the hashbrowns!" -My Bro-Bro
“Don’t kid yourself -- you know I’m too irresistible to not charm you,” Addison snickered as Arthur joked about her newly minted nickname. She slid her hands back into her pockets to escape the chill of the wintry air piercing her exposed skin. The rumbling of voices began to gradually dissipate as they left the town center, leaving the pair to the sound of snow crunching underfoot and quiet conversation. Upon Arthur suggesting taking her out hunting tomorrow afternoon, she turned to him dumbfoundedly. Was he serious? Did she hear him right? Her face initially dimmed with skepticism at first, but when the older man made no indication that he was anything but serious, she cracked a smile. Addison nodded eagerly as she looked ahead once more.
“Yeah…yeah, that’d be awesome! I can’t wait to blast away those fuckers. They’ll never know what hit them!” She held up her hand, pointing it ahead of her like it was a handgun as she held the side of it steady with her other hand, pretending like there was a squirrel in front of her as she “fired” it with a loud mimicked gunshot. “Boom! Headshot!” Her chuckles faded away into the night as she settled into a comfortable silence, replaying the game in her head with a cheeky grin. Addison hadn’t seen many instances where she could recall someone needing to shoot so quickly and accurately, and it was fun to watch. Maybe she should get Philip to help her set up a shooting range to practice on. That could be a fun project.
Addison looked at Arthur once again as he placed his hand on her back and tried to tuck her into his jacket as best he could. It was something else that was out of the ordinary for Arthur to do, to willingly be so physically close outside of combat. It didn’t stand out enough for her to ask about it, however, as she graciously accepted the extra bit of warmth. “Thanks,” the young girl breathed as she pressed in to the best of her ability. Another smile creeped up on her as Arthur whispered “anklebiter” in her ear.
The moment pulled her away into a still memory for a split second. Her father had done the same thing one night as they rested in the bed of his truck under the stars, watching the skies in the cooler autumn months. They had been fortunate enough to live in a place far enough outside of any cities so that the stars wouldn’t be obscured by distant lights. He would tell her stories about the stars that ignited her imagination. They would sit, swaddled in the comfort of a pile of blankets while sharing a cup of hot chocolate. Dad sat her still one night as she shivered, pulling the blankets tighter around her small form while whispering something in her ear. It was so long ago that she had forgotten by now, but Addison could still feel a familiar tickle on her ear as the deepness of his voice rumbled into it. It brought her comfort that she had nearly buried under hard years of survival.
Trying to decipher when and where it happened took her long enough to easily pass the time it took to reach the front steps of the cabin, which were now laden with snow. She noticed that some of the wood was beginning to sag from the weight and dampness of the snow. With a shuddering breath, Addison gave a nod and stepped inside. Damnit. I forgot all about getting more coffee!
The warmth of the cabin hit like a wall, causing her to temporarily forget her plight. It wasn’t as cold as being outside by any means, but shelter from the exposure was enough to make her give a groan of relief. To think that she could have missed out on this opportunity all those months ago! It appeared as though hanging around with Arthur had its perks. Besides the companionship, of course. She watched Arthur for a few moments as she stood in the center of the room, watching his prolonged movements as he tried to get a fire going. Whatever it was she had noticed earlier had come back to gnaw at the back of her mind, something she couldn’t quite place her finger on. It was worrying, but Addison debated if she wanted to spoil the good mood they shared. Once the fire was set, Addison took off her coat and draped it over the armchair she stood beside. She slipped past Arthur and held her hands by the hearth, closing her eyes in satisfaction as the heat soothed her frozen palms. “Oh yeah…that’s the stuff.”
Addison’s head turned as Arthur shouted down to her, asking if she could start looking for coffee or tea to make. “Yep, I got it!” She lazily kicked her boots off next to the fireplace so that they could dry, then glanced over at the gift she had hidden in the corner. I hope he hasn’t seen that yet. Maybe he won’t peek. Addison had already attempted to find any gifts that Arthur had gotten her, but he had hidden them well enough that even she couldn’t find them. If he had gotten any at all, that is. There was a chance he had put it off, but she didn’t think that was the case. Arthur was old, in her mind, but certainly not forgetful. Maybe. Addison quickly checked under the sheet to see if the toolbox had dried since she last painted it. Almost looks brand-new! “Yes!” she whispered sharply to herself as she scampered over to the kitchen.
Long, slim fingers scoured over all of the surfaces and nooks of the cabinets and counters, scanning every inch of the space to the best of her ability. Addison found a couple of things that she had entirely forgotten existed, which is how she ended up with a near-empty package of stale crackers stuffed inside of her pocket. It left a noticeable bulge, but perhaps the darkness of the cabin would mask it until she snuck it into her room. My room. A flash of worry crossed her chest as she looked upstairs. Her pistol was tucked away in her bedside drawer for safekeeping, but a part of her realized that she didn’t know if Arthur knew she had it on her. Would he even care? If he didn’t want her having it, she hoped that he wouldn’t go looking in her room for anything. Who knows, maybe he liked to search for gifts too. Addison gave a soft, nervous exhale as she returned her focus to scavenging for the coffee.
It didn’t take her long to find a tin of coffee tucked in the corner of the counter -- honestly, it’s where she should have looked first. Old habits die hard. Addison peeled open the lid and looked inside. There wasn’t much. It would be weak, but coffee was coffee. Especially in the apocalypse. She reached for a small pot and filled it with water, then set it on the stove to boil. Arthur called down as she put the lid on top, asking if she had found any. “Yeah, I found a little bit of coffee! It won’t be strong though.”
Her eyes searched the floor for something to preoccupy her mind while the water heated up, eventually setting on the rifle that was resting on the coffee table. An eager grin crossed her lips as she headed for it, sitting in front and admiring its looks. It was a handsome weapon for sure. Addison reached out carefully, gingerly running her fingers across the stock once again. The crackling of the fire soothed her mind as she closed her eyes, feeling the gun and imagining firing it. She loved the smell of the heated metal after a shot and the mastery of handling such a weapon in the first place. If only she had more opportunities to use it. Not in terms of danger, of course. Her smile drifted as she remembered the last rifle she held in her arms, carefully aiming up at the boat, adrenaline and fear pulsating through her veins. Addison feared losing him then, of witnessing another brutal death of someone she loved. The anxiety of not knowing, of potentially losing everything, haunted her almost daily. Her fingers lifted off of the rifle as she exhaled, calming herself.
“I’m not there anymore,” she whispered. “I’m here. I’m alive. Arthur’s here. He’s alive.” Still, she couldn’t seem to quiet the slight shake in her hand. The teenager gripped the hand, massaging it as she pulled back. Addison looked upwards again, desperate to be with someone. “Are you done yet, old man? The coffee will be cold at the rate you’re going!”
Addison stood to go check on the stove, peering over at it impatiently. “Oh,” she piped up quickly, “I just remembered! I invited Philip over if he needed company tonight, so don’t like…I dunno…fucking shoot him on accident if he comes in.” A small part of her always worried that something like that might happen, whether it be from her or Arthur. The odds were slim, but she was always extra careful about it.
Arthur had already started down the steps, pausing at the bottom when he saw the girl touch the rifle. He watched her silently and his brows furrowed in worry when her hand shook and the way she tried to calm her nerves. There were many things that could make her react in such a way and he didn’t think it was the cold. His eyes dipped to the floor as that guilt of leaving her nagged at him again. What if she was terrified without him near? There was no doubt about that. They’d grown closer the months they’d been traveling together and even Arthur hated the thought of not having someone to have his back in the future. Well. He didn’t like the thought of not having Addison have his back in the future. She, along with a very few handful of people, was the only one he trusted. She would have her father to keep her safe one day, though, once he showed up in Chris’s place safe haven. There would be nothing to worry about and Addison would be where she belonged, with her family. She and Arthur wouldn’t need to travel together anymore and she wouldn’t have some cold-hearted, old, grumpy bastard grumbling at her every two seconds. She’d have someone who would take better care of her than him…
When he heard her speak, he quickly took silent, rushed steps backwards and made an effort to put a little more umph in his footsteps as he walked back down the rest of the stairway, calling to her heartedly, “Yeah. I’m comin’ down right now.” There was a forced, breathy chuckle as he smiled softly as her, locking his eyes with Addison as he stepped further into the room. A bushy, silver brow rose and he added, “I’m not that old yet, anklebiter. If there’s one thing you should know about me, I love coffee.” He made his way to where the coffee was being brewed and ran his fingers through his hair while placing his hand on his hip. “I missed coffee… The good kind.” Arthur checked on how it was going and nodded to himself before he poured Addison a mug. The dark liquid smelled and looked delicious and for a bit, he was taken back to the days before the outbreak. Her words brought him out of it as he mindlessly poured himself a mug, glancing over his shoulder at her with a smirk. “Really? I don’t see a problem with him comin’ by. I won’t shoot him. I promise.” While turning in a saunter, he placed Addison’s half empty mug on the counter close to her and lifted his own mug to his lips. Before taking a sip, he locked eyes with her and teased, “So long as he behaves.” Shaking his head, he said, “I’m kidding. I know he’s a good kid.”
That first sip was like heaven. Better than the guinness they found in that one town. Arthur closed his eyes as a rush of warmth formed in his gut and chest and he hummed in appreciation. Another nod and soft sigh. “Mm. Now this, this right here is a good cup of coffee. Tastes great. Makes ya warm on cold days. …You did good.” Leaning back against the counter more, he took another long sip and his eyes shut. “Mm mm.” He opened his eyes and nodded his head towards Addison, gesturing with his mug towards her, “Go on. Try a sip. See if you like it.”
"It had long since come to my attention that people of accomplishment rarely sat back and let things happen to them. They went out and happened to things." -Leonardo Da Vinci
"It's over, Anakin! I have the hashbrowns!" -My Bro-Bro
“Only old people love coffee,” Addy grinned, moving to the side and leaning her elbow against the counter while Arthur served the coffee. The aroma was tantalizing, drawing her in with a warm scent. Arthur slid a mug over and she took it up in her hands. A small hiss escaped her lips as the mug burned against her skin. Shaking her hand to wave off the burn, Addy gingerly grabbed the handle with her other, non-injured hand and looked in. The drink bobbed back and forth, darkly swirling around in its ceramic enclosure. Wisps of heat curled upwards. Its scent was much stronger now that it was in her hands.
Arthur’s opinion on Philip caused her eyes to latch on to the older man. Again, relief surged through Addy’s chest when he said he thought positively of him. Questions followed suit, pressuring her to pry into Arthur’s thoughts on the boy. He had already given several indications that he liked Philip, but Addy needed to be certain that he approved of the young chef. She knew well enough from some of the movies from movie night that fathers tended to like boys, but not with their daughters. Hopefully that was that classic Hollywood exaggeration she’d heard disapproving remarks sometimes from the adults. Addy held off the questions when Arthur asked her to try the coffee. A short, grateful huff blew back some of the trailing steam of coffee, whisking it away.
Addy brought the cup to her lips, hesitating over the sloshing liquid. She looked down, watching for a few moments. Finally, she tipped it back and let some of it in. A splash of coffee poured over her teeth and tongue, the warmth providing a slight burn to match the bitter taste. Her face scrunched without meaning to, her taste buds determining if the bitterness was welcome or not. "Eugh… Don't you put shit in this to make it taste better? It's a strong taste." Addy set it down and pushed it about an inch away with her fingers. She didn’t hate it, but the coffee took up everything in her senses now.
Sooo…you do like Philip?
The question teetered behind her teeth, balancing on the tip of her tongue. Addy's brain panicked, sharply barring her from asking. Perhaps it would be better to ask after gift-giving, when Arthur was in high spirits. Yes. Good. That plan sounded fine. She pushed herself off of the counter, whipping around to face him fully with a wide smile. The smile was plastered on at first, stretched over her cheeks to cover up the underlying anxiety of his opinion of Philip. But the spirit of the holidays returned in full force to reignite her excitement, reinforcing the smile with sincerity and a change in subject.
“We need to give each other our gifts now!” Addy insisted, reaching over to give him a firm slack on the bicep. “I’ve been waiting ages to give it to you. Can’t let all my hard work go to waste. It’s gonna knock your fuckin’ socks off!” She grabbed his wrist only for a moment to direct him towards the living room, then practically bounced back in and hopped onto the couch. In careful (and somewhat hesitant) movements, Addy took the rifle and set it safely to the side so that it wouldn’t get in the way. She gave a glance to the corner of the room that housed her gift to Arthur.
“Do you want mine first? Please say yes.” Her eyes lit up, looking back over at Arthur expectantly. She kinda figured that he would let her, but she still wanted to ask.