This is a prompt response from over on ninelives, from WillowFaerie82. The prompt went something like this; 'Carol works the reception desk at the vet clinic Hershel runs. Construction Worker!Daryl brings in an abandoned puppy he found skulking around the site.'
It's an AU (no apocalypse), and Ed is dead or divorced or whatever. I really could not care less what happened to Ed Peletier.
It's my first try at an AU but I have another one in the works if this one gets some love.
Enjoy!
"Greene Veterinary Clinic, you're speaking with Carol. How may I help you?" The air conditioner blew cold air across the room and flipped a section of hair into her face. She brushed it behind her ear for the nth time and returned her attention to the telephone. "Hello? Can I help?"
"Uh. I, uh, I found a dog on the side'a th'road 'bout five minutes ago… Ain't lookin' too flash. But it ain't mine, do I bring it to y'all or the pound?"
"How hurt is it, sir? Bring it in, the clinic has an adoption program."
"Uh…" There was a pause. "I'unno. Think it got hit by a car or summat. I don't gotta stay or nothin', do I? On my lunch break, is all."
"Bring it on in, hopefully Herschel can help the poor thing. If you sign it over to the clinic, you don't need to stick around. Are you coming now?"
"Yeah. 'm on the way now."
"I'll let Herschel know. Can I take your name?"
"Daryl Dixon."
"Alright, Mr. Dixon. We'll see you shortly."
The phone clicked as he hung up.
Herschel was sitting in the main office chatting with Carol when he backed into the clinic, a bloody blanket in his arms. In an instant Herschel was on his feet, pushing the prepared examining table towards him.
"Up here, son."
He unloaded the dog none too carefully onto the table and helped the old man push it through into the surgical room, with Carol following on, carrying her clipboard to take down notes for Herschel.
"Alright…" Herschel mused. "Carol Anne, if you could get him hooked up to the gas, that would be wonderful. Mr. Dixon, do you know where all his blood is coming from?"
"Naw, saw him on the side'a the highway 'bout ten minutes ago. Looked pretty much th'same as he does now."
As Carol bustled around the room setting up the anesthetic gas, Daryl backed up against the wall, hands shoved deep into his pockets. The dog had gotten blood all over the front of his sleeveless button-down and jeans when he'd hauled it into the vet clinic. It was a nice looking thing, he mused. It looked like it had been living rough for a while, but it seemed to be some sort of Border Collie, with brown and black patches on a once-white coat.
Herschel muttered observations to Carol, who scribbled them down on her clipboard. Once he had completed his inspection, he dismissed her with a 'thank you' and warm smile.
"Oh! Mr. Dixon, I'm so sorry! I've just got one form for you to sign then you can get back to work, I hope you're not late…" She prattled on as she looked for the piece of paper at her desk in the front office. He let her talk, trying to ignore the itchy sensation of the blood drying all over his bare arms.
"Mr. Dixon?" She asked, smiling pleasantly.
"Uh, Daryl'll do." He mumbled.
"Daryl, then." She had a nice voice. "If you just fill this in, you'll have signed all care and responsibility over to the clinic, so he'll be off your hands for good."
"He ain't mine." He reminded her. "I only picked him up twenty minutes ago. He even mine to sign over?"
"You're the only one who thought to pick him up at all, that's good enough for the clinic. If you put your phone number at the bottom, I can give you a call once Herschel's done with him, tell you how he's doing?"
"Uh, yeah, that'd be good. Y'reckon he's gonna make it?"
Carol leaned on her desk. "You want my honest opinion?"
He grunted affirmatively.
"I'm not sure. He's probably going to lose that back leg, it's smashed to hell and infected to boot. He's also got at least two broken ribs but I'm not sure if Herschel thinks there's internal bleeding… So if you know anyone who wants a three-legged stray, give us a call,yeah?"
He huffed a laugh. "Ain't much of a market for 'em. Could call the little bastard 'Lucky' and try sucker someone into adoptin' 'im."
She hummed, smiling at him. "If you want to check on him, just come on in. We're open between eight and six, Monday to Friday."
"A'ight. Thanks for takin' 'im." He checked the clock. "I better head on back."
"Have a nice afternoon!" She called after him as he headed out the door.
"You too." He mumbled on the way out.
Daryl rapped on the door frame to the clinic two days later, still in his construction vest. Carol looked up from her magazine, polite smile in place. When she recognized him, she smiled properly and rose to her feet.
"Come back to check on Lucky?"
"Yeah. He a'ight?"
"Come on through, you can see him for yourself! He's a bit groggy, Herschel ended up amputating his leg and he had to reset his little ribs, so he's on a lot of painkillers right now."
"Poor lil' fucker." He shut his mouth in a hurry, worried he'd offended this demure, sweet woman. To his surprise, she snickered.
"He'll be just fine. Some time, a little love… He'll be a nice sort."
The dog was, in Daryl's inexpert opinion, not just fine. He had been shaved on one side, all over his rib area. On the same side, his rump was similarly clipped, although his leg now ended just above the hock joint. There was a bright red incision in his side, held close with both staples and stitches. His entire (well,) leg was doused in antiseptic, and was stained a vivid purple. He had two separate I.V lines in, one connected to saline and one to painkillers. His face and stomach on the same side were covered in lacerations,just under a week old by the look of them.
The poor dog was a mess.
"Jesus." He muttered. "Looks like he got hit 'bout a week ago. Th'fuck just leaves a dog running 'round with a broken leg for a week?" He crouched near the dog's head and stuck his fingers through the cage, wiggling them just in front of its nose.
The dog's fluffy tail thunk-thunk-thunked against the floor of the cage.
"First time he's seemed happy to see somebody so far." Carol commented.
Daryl snorted but didn't respond.
She leaned back against the side of the cage and watched him pet the dog. He was a little sunburned across his shoulders, she noticed, probably due to the fact that he'd ripped the sleeves off of his button-down shirt (which, she couldn't help but note, he filled out oh so well), although his face seemed to have escaped with just a tan. His vest read 'Scott Construction'. He had a small beard and fairly long hair that brushed the back of his collar. That was about all she could see from her standing position in front of the kneeling man.
"Do you think you could mention that he'll be up for adoption in three weeks to anyone who might be interested?"
He looked up at her with a shrug. "I'unno if anyone'll be interested but I'll spread the word. Where's he gon' go between now an' three weeks?"
His eyes were surprisingly blue behind his squint.
"He'll stay in the clinic until the open wounds have scabbed over." She said, feeling a little flustered under his scrutiny. She was pretty sure she was sporting a double chin, purely from the angle she was looking at him on, and her hair was sticking out at odd angles. She hadn't bothered putting on any make-up this morning either. "I'll probably take him until we can find him a home. The one I have right now is going at the end of the week so I'll have the room."
"He's in good hands then, I guess."
She smiled. "I like to think so."
"How old y'reckon he is?" Daryl queried as he stood up, knee joints popping.
"Six months, or thereabouts… He's a sweet little guy, just shy, I think. He doesn't have a microchip, so finding out where he's from is going to be almost impossible."
Daryl gnawed at his thumbnail for a moment. "He was skulkin' 'round the site we're workin' on a while back. Took half my lunch one day." He snickered. "Probably why he's so damn happy to see me."
Daryl came in two days later, hands jammed deep into his pockets. Lucky had been shifted to a crate in the main office; his wounds had finally stopped leaking and the crate allowed him a little more room to move and get used to his altered leg.
The little blonde-haired girl playing with him turned at the sound of the door opening. Lucky sat up and yipped a greeting, his tail picking up speed as it wagged frantically.
"Mommy!" The little girl whisper-yelled. "Mommy, a man's here!"
"Coming, sweetheart!" He heard Carol call before she bustled through into the office. "Daryl! Hi." She smiled. "Come to see our patient?"
"Uh." He scuffed his foot on the polished linoleum. "Yeah. Looks like he's got him a friend already, though."
"My daughter, Sophia. She's been keeping him entertained. Soph," She beckoned. "Come say hello, darling. This is Mr. Daryl. He rescued Lucky."
The little girl shuffled over. "Hello."
"Hi, kid."
"He's a real nice dog." She mumbled. "But he only got three legs now."
"Reckon he's still gonna be able to run around?" He asked her.
She fixed him with huge blue eyes and nodded, her thumb edging towards her mouth. Carol gently took her hand and eased it away without even looking at her.
"How can I help you, Daryl?" She smiled.
"I was thinkin'." He stopped.
"That's ideal." She quipped, then snickered.
He laughed. "Lemme finish, woman. Y'said he needed a home, right?"
"He will, once he's healed up." Carol felt a smile beginning to form. He wanted to take Lucky home? Bet you wouldn't mind if he wanted to take you home. Her cheeks turned a little pink. What was she thinking?
"I ain't had a dog in a couple'a years, but I got a fully fenced property, a kennel an' run… Kinda miss havin' one, you know?" He chanced a glance at her face. She was beaming, cheeks pink and she was almost bouncing on the balls of her feet.
"I'd have to come out and do a property inspection and you'd have to do a bit of paperwork," She warned. "But I doubt that'll be an issue."
"Great." He grinned back.
It took two weeks for all the paperwork to be approved by the animal adoption agency, but in that time Daryl made a habit of dropping in every other day. Sometimes he would call in a few days in a row, occasionally bringing her a sandwich or coffee if he was there around lunchtime. The dog had come to anticipate his visits, knowing he was going to be fussed over and possibly treated to a crust of sandwich.
Sophia, who had been coming into the clinic to see the animals on days her kindergarten was closed, was constantly pestering him about the dog. He bore her attention with a grin, showing her how to pet him and feed him treats without getting her fingers nipped.
One Thursday, he was leaning against Lucky's cage talking over the dog's medication with Herschel when the phone rang.
"Greene Veterinary Clinic, how may I help you?" Carol chirped. "Mr. Rhee! How nice to speak with you!" There was a pause, then she laughed quietly. "Glenn, then. Are you calling about the property inspection for Lucky?"
She beckoned Daryl over, and with a quick "Just a minute." into the phone, she covered the receiver with her hand. "When's a good time for the property inspection? As soon as possible would be great."
"T'morrow? 'Bout four? That's the earliest I can do…"
She patted his arm. "Four tomorrow?" She asked into the telephone. "Excellent, I'll meet you at the clinic then we'll head out? Wonderful." She said goodbye and hung up.
"Guess I'll see you then." He offered. He waved to Sophia and clicked his tongue at Lucky, who was sniffing around the office, getting used to his altered physique.
Carol beamed as he headed out the door.
Glenn Rhee was irresistibly likeable. She climbed into the pickup and the first thing he did was offer her a pastry.
"Carol? I'm Glenn." He smiled. "Have a pastry."
She smiled. "Thank you. I'm glad all the paperwork turned out all right for Daryl to adopt this dog."
"He picked it up off the side of the road, right? I haven't met him, but I can't help but think he's related to Merle Dixon. Do you know?"
Carol shrugged. "What's wrong with Merle Dixon?"
Glenn glanced over at her. "He's got a list of convictions longer than my arm, for one. Inclined to the seedier places around town, bar fight connoisseur… Take your pick, really."
"Huh. Well, I doubt he's too much like his brother. He doesn't have a criminal record, aside from a couple of bar fights. He's actually quite sweet you know… A bit quiet, but the dog loves him to bits and he seems like a nice man."
"Sweet in general, or on you specifically?"
Carol giggled in surprise. "Glenn! You haven't even met him yet!"
"I'll hold my judgment then." He wriggled his eyebrows at her.
They both dissolved into giggles.
Daryl stood near them as Glenn finished writing up the report on the property, one hip cocked impatiently, the toe of one boot tapping in the dust.
"It all looks good, Daryl." Glenn grinned. "I'm writing up a license for you right now, it'll arrive in the next week."
Daryl rocked onto his toes. "Really?" Carol smiled widely. He looked like a boy on Christmas Day. "Well, shit! A'ight, thanks man." He extended a hand, which Glenn shook happily.
"No problem. Carol, if you don't mind, I'd like to leave soon. Date night, y'know?" Glenn said apologetically.
"You can pick him up as soon as you like." She smiled at Daryl. "Let's go. Can you drop me back at the clinic? It's closer than my house."
"'Course." Glenn replied.
"Uh." Daryl interjected. "If I went in an' got 'im now, I could run you back. Save y'all some time."
"That would be great." Carol smiled. "Thanks for your help, Glenn."
The dog sat in the passenger seat of Daryl's pickup, tongue lolling and ears pricked as Daryl staggered down the stairs with an enormous bag of dog kibble. With a grunt, he heaved it onto the back of the truck and headed back to help Carol with the armload of dog toys she was carrying.
"He still needs that dressing changed once a day." She reminded him.
"I know."
"He'll have to live inside for another three weeks." She cautioned.
"I know." He nodded.
"Don't feed him too much human food,-"
"He'll get fat." He completed her sentence as she said it. "I know, Carol. He's gonna be just fine, ain't'cha?" He tapped the glass in front of the dog.
"I don't mean to nag." She said contritely.
"Y'ain't." He shrugged. "Pretty damn cute, to be honest." He stopped abruptly. Shit.
She blushed.
He blushed.
"Y'wanna grab a coffee sometime?" He blurted.
She leaned on the side of his truck. "Well…" She drew it out.
"Never mind, sorry for-" He backtracked in a hurry. Fucking idiot! He mentally scolded himself.
"Daryl!" She stepped up to him, placed a hand on his arm. "I was teasing! I'd love to."
"Really?" He asked in surprise. "I mean, uh, great!"
"Monday afternoon alright for you?"
"Yeah, great. I'll pick you up on your lunch break?"
"It's a date." She smiled. "Bye, Lucky!" She cooed. As she headed up the stairs, she turned to him once more. "It is a date?"
"Yeah." He nodded shyly. "I reckon it is."
So...? What did you think?
I won't be writing much for the next few weeks. It's currently Sunday night and I have my first benchmark on Wednesday, so I really ought to be studying instead of feeding my Caryl addiction!
If you enjoyed this and would maybe possibly kind of like to see my other AU I have been playing around with, drop me a line!