I had two ideas in my head that wouldn't go away but I decided to combine them to save a bit of time... (Look at me, I'm so enterprising!) The first one was a fluffy mess about the kids picking raspberries and the second one was a raging angst-fest where the boys go missing, but it was going to be so intense and stressful I didn't want to do it. I smooshed them together and I hope you enjoy the result!
Daryl and Carol sat side-by-side on one of the benches near the vegetable gardens, watching as Caleb and Rory helped Glenn pick raspberries off the wildly tangled vines that grew along one edge of the peas. Daryl nudged her and reached for her wrist, turning it so that he could check the time on her watch.
He sighed. He'd had a fifteen minute break from splitting firewood for the outdoor stove to have lunch with Carol and Caleb."We should probably get back to work. How much wood you want?"
She made a kissy face that caused him to groan in exasperation. "How much you gonna give me?" She teased, wriggling her eyebrows. He blushed and she laughed delightedly. He began to laugh at her and rested his forehead against her temple for a moment before standing and offering her his hand. She tugged herself up and kissed his knuckles before he could pull his hand away.
"Stop." He scolded her, unable to fully squash his smile. "There're children listenin'."
She smirked at him. "I'm going to carry on with stocktake… I might need a run organised to get some more antibiotics after that chest infection Rachael had."
Daryl nodded. Carol's herbal medicines were effective enough that they'd almost completely removed the need for conventional medicine, which was generally becoming scarcer by the day, but most of the Atlanta group that had joined them had residual illnesses from their damp living conditions that cropped up every winter. This year, Rachael had succumbed to a serious chest infection that, despite Carol's best efforts, had required a large portion of their precious antibiotics to cure, and as such the depleted stock needed to be replaced.
"Jus' write it all down an' we'll set one up… I gotta get back." He said, cupping her cheek and pulling her in so he could kiss her temple. "See you after."
"Bye, lover…" She purred, making him snort with laughter as she wriggled her eyebrows at him again.
"Get." He scolded and headed back in the direction of the stack of wood rings waiting to be cut against the wall, five minutes walk away. The sound of her sweet laugh made him smile as he walked away.
She snickered as he walked away, crossbow slung over his shoulder. "Hey, Glenn?" She called, carefully picking her way over the rows of vegetables towards him and the boys. "Are you going to be out here for a while?"
He turned at the sound of her voice. "Yeah, do you want me to keep Caleb out from under your feet?" The boys held up their cupped palms full of raspberries to show her when she reached them, and she swiped a few, popping them into her mouth with an appreciative hum, amused by the evidence smeared around their mouths that they had been eating as many as they'd picked.
"I need an hour, tops. Is that okay?" She asked, licking the sleeve of her over-shirt and using it to wipe first Caleb's, then Rory's, face clean of raspberry juice. "Will you keep helping Uncle Glenn with the gardening?" She asked Caleb, thumbing a smear of dirt off his nose. He nodded enthusiastically, his mouth already full of raspberries again. "Don't eat too many more, they'll make you sick," She chastised. "And don't let Uncle Glenn lift anything heavy, even if he says he can… His shoulder hasn't healed yet, okay?"
"Okay, Mama." He mumbled around his mouthful.
"Have fun!" She called over her shoulder at the trio as they continued to pick into baskets whilst she headed back to the infirmary.
She stopped briefly at the outdoor kitchen to help Beth and Tara, who were trying to cajole the cantankerous barbeque-grill into lighting.
"Why did we sign up for dinner duty?" Tara huffed, hands on her hips while Carol wriggled the right dials in the proper order.
"Because it means you get to hang out with me." Beth teased, turning a little pink.
Tara pursed her lips, as if seriously considering her answer. "Eh, I guess." She shrugged, before giggling at Beth's disgruntled expression.
Carol laughed as the pair flirted and giggled as they set about preparing meat for the stew they would be serving for dinner that evening. Once she checked that they were fully in control of the dinner situation she returned to the infirmary and picked up where she'd left off half an hour ago with the stocktake.
"Hey, Carol? I think the boys misunderstood when I said 'go find Carol'. They weren't meant to hang around and get in the way, so I can take them back with me." Glenn called, his voice echoing in the barn.
"What?" She yelled back, half inside a floor-level cupboard. She wriggled out backwards and pulled herself up with the counter, dusting her hands on her jeans as Glenn came in.
"The boys, they came to find you." He said, glancing around for them. "They're not here?"
"No…" She said. "How long ago did you send them?"
"An hour, maybe?" Glenn ran a nervous hand through his hair. "Caleb wanted to sleep over so I told them to come ask you if it was okay. You haven't seen either of them?"
"No." She shook her head. She watched the first hints of panic rise on his face. "Glenn, they're probably off playing somewhere, you know how they are. We'll go look for them, okay?"
"Shit, I'm sorry." He apologised, clearly unnerved. "I should've come with them, I was just trying to count the seedlings and I thought they'd be okay to walk here, honestly."
"They'll be fine." She soothed, even as she reached for her knife. "Let's ask around for a minute. There's nothing to worry about."
Glenn rushed out of the barn with Carol trailing behind him, anxious and terse compared to her unphased expression. He headed for the outdoor kitchen, a more sophisticated version of the one they'd had at the prison, and began to ask those gathered around that had missed the lunch meal and were grabbing a quick meal to tide them over until dinner. Carol wasn't, in all honesty, that concerned by the boys' disappearance. They were six years old and fairly independent, and spent their days racing around the orchard or playing in the tree-fort they'd had built as a Christmas surprise the year before. As a result, both boys were fleet of foot and capable of shimmying up the nearest tree should walkers present themselves, and the older members of their family would come to their aid in moments. In reality, there were no walkers on the farm anyway, thanks to the solid eight-foot stone wall that fenced in the sprawling property and the boys were probably just playing somewhere, or off 'helping' someone who had seen them idle and enlisted them for more chores.
"Nobody's seen them!" Glenn rushed back to her. She could tell that he was growing more frantic as the minutes ticked by, and to assuage his fear she sent him off to the east wall to check with the firewood-splitting crew, whilst she went to the westernmost section to the orchard, where they liked to play in the fallen leaves and climb up to the highest possible sturdy branches to look over the wall. The fifteen-minute walk took her maybe ten minutes as she made good pace through the pasture, keeping a wary eye on the somewhat ornery bull they'd found last season to refresh their bloodlines with the three milking cows. She ducked under the solid post-and-rail and walked down a row of peach trees, noticing that there was an abundance of almost-ripe peaches to be picked within the next week.
"Caleb?" She called. "Rory? Are you two playing out here?"
Silence reigned aside from the birdsong and quiet rush of the river on the other side of the wall.
"Boys! Hide and seek isn't funny right now, everyone's getting worried! Come on out, please." She put her hands on her hips and waited, but there were no rustling branches or youthful giggles to give them away. With a sigh, she turned back towards the pasture, mentally listing all the other places they might be playing, unaware of the feeling of unease their disappearance had caused that had begun squirming in her gut.
They weren't in the long grass in the hay field, and they weren't making mud pies next to the out-of-the-way water pump that dripped and turned the soil around it into mud.
They weren't hunting for eggs in the hedge where the chickens liked to lay.
They weren't even out harassing the old riding pony like they were only allowed to do under supervision, clumsily plaiting its mane and tail or petting the fat white blaze on its face, whilst being overly cautious about having their toes squashed by its hooves.
Her last hope was that they would be playing up in the hayloft in the barn, but she doubted they'd be there because she hadn't seen or heard them whilst she was taking stock of the medicines.
When she returned to the courtyard she was surprised at the amount of people that were waiting expectantly on her.
"You ain't seen them?" Maggie cried as she rounded the barn. "They can't just be gone!"
"They're not playing anywhere on the western side." She replied, standing next to Daryl as the cold feeling in her stomach grew to engulf her chest. "Nobody sent them off to do chores?"
The rest of the community shook their heads. There were fifty people here, and not one of them had noticed two six-year-old boys scampering around, looking for mischief?
"I was thinkin'." Daryl began, nudging her reassuringly with his hip even as he spoke the words that made her feel ill. "They asked me 'bout a week ago if'n I'd take 'em out huntin'. I told 'em they weren't big enough yet but they were real keen to go."
"You think they'd go out there on their own?" Beth piped up, worriedly stirring the stew.
Daryl shrugged, even as Maggie and Carol looked at each other, aghast. They were good boys, who rarely talked back and always did as they were told, but they had a penchant for mischief. They also loved having 'adventures', although they were always completed within the safety of the walls. Their favourite stories were those where travelers found foreign lands and excitement, and Carol pressed a hand to her mouth as realization dawned on the pair of women.
"Shit." She whispered. "They could have."
"A'ight." Daryl snapped into action, scooping up his crossbow whilst she watched him, uncomprehending. "Where you reckon they would'a gotten over? Can't think'a anywhere but the ladder."
"That's the only way out." Carl confirmed. At seventeen, or thereabouts, he was a proficient archer and often accompanied Daryl on hunting outings. He'd learned to shoot a bow from Andrew, who had been a competitive archer in his youth. "I'll help you look."
"Let's go, then." Daryl said curtly, before squeezing Carol with one arm. "We'll be back before dark, a'ight? Ain't nothin'."
She nodded numbly. He eyed her with concern for a moment before kissing her forehead and leaving, muttering "Keep an eye on her, will you?" to Beth as he passed, taking a canteen of water with him.
"Carol." Glenn said, unsure if he should hug her or not. Maggie was too fidgety to be comforted but Carol just looked lost. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have let them run off like that."
"No," She said weakly, snapping back to reality. "It's not your fault. They're always playing somewhere, you couldn't have known they were going to go over the wall."
"I'm still sorry."
"You're no more to blame than I am, Glenn. I'm going to go and get organised in the infirmary in case either of them are hurt." She walked mechanically back into the barn.
She went through the cupboards, digging out gauze and saline to flush out wounds. She briefly fingered the sterile stitching materials, still sealed in the packaging but decided against it. The image of those two little boys with wounds severe enough to need stitches turned her stomach, and she snatched her fingers away and decisively shut the cupboard. After a few minutes of pacing the room with her hands on her hips, she sat on one of the hospital cots and cursed herself for maintaining such a degree of organization, wishing that she had needed to dig around for a while for supplies to keep herself busy. She pulled her legs up so she was sitting cross-legged in the centre of the cot and fiddled with the green jasper stone she kept on a string around her neck.
The forest was mostly silent, apart from the birds that sang overhead and the crunching of leaves under their feet. Daryl silently pointed at two sets of small footprints in the dirt and Carl nodded, following him as he stalked through the trees. They'd been tracking them for almost an hour and Daryl glanced up at the sun, trying to gauge how many hours of daylight they had left.
"Couple hours before it gets dark." Carl said. "They can't have got much further than this."
Daryl shrugged, gnawing at his thumb. "Tracks ain't too old."
The growling of a walker drew their attention. They whipped to the left and waited for it to come into view, watching as the bushes began to tremble. Daryl swore under his breath when he realised that it was only small, and Carl gasped and watched as Daryl's face paled.
"I can't… I can't put 'em down." He garbled, even as he lifted the crossbow to his shoulder.
"Daryl, I'll-" Carl paused, unable to believe what he was saying. "I can do it. You don't have to." He reached carefully for the arm that Daryl had the crossbow braced on. "You don't."
The child-walker staggered out of the bushes and Daryl made an animal noise of relief when he saw that it had been long dead, grey skin so dried and cracked that it was flaking away. He shot it quickly and stepped over it to yank his arrow free. His premature grief quickly morphed into anger and he brushed past Carl, stomping in the direction the tracks led him.
"I'm gonna tan their hides." He snarled as Carl caught up to him. "Beat both of 'em into next week." Carl let him rage quietly, knowing he was all bluster and would never lay a hand on his son in anger. "Should fuckin' leave the lil' shits out here for the night, scare 'em into behavin' next time they get dumbass ideas like this." He continued to mutter to himself as they crunched over dried leaves and fallen branches, making enough noise that Carl kept a wary eye out for walkers even though walkers were rare this far from any major cities.
The sun had dropped lower in the sky by the time they came to the end of the tracks. Daryl stopped in disbelief for a moment before he realised what had happened and he glared up into the trees.
"Get your asses down here right now!" He thundered.
"Daddy?" Caleb called tremulously from the canopy.
"Who the hell else would it be?" He snapped. "Hurry up!"
Carl felt a little sorry for the boys. He'd never seen Daryl so blatantly angry before. Daryl was the sort who used to lash out after containing his anger for too long, but since they'd lived at the prison he'd been more the type to calm himself before entering any sort of confrontation. To see him so openly angry must have been frightening for the two boys, who were used to a calmer, more mellow Daryl than he was acting at the moment.
First Caleb, then Rory dropped down from the same tree and scuffed their feet in the leaf litter.
"Either'a you hurt?" Daryl growled.
They both mutely shook their heads.
"What?" He scolded. "Walkers get your damn tongues?"
"No, sir." They both mumbled, cowed by his anger.
"Why you hidin' up a tree?" He scolded.
"There was a walker… It was a kid but we had to hide." Rory mumbled.
"The hell were you thinkin', huh? I damn told you two you ain't allowed over the wall 'til you're older!" He eyeballed them. "Out with it!"
"We… We, we-" Caleb stuttered. "It, we heard Aunt 'Chonne and Carl talking about coming out here and we, I, uh…" He stammered.
"So y'all thought you'd just climb on over the wall and what? Get your asses bit?" Daryl flailed his arms. "Your Mama is settin' up the infirmary, she don't know what's comin' back with me an' Carl! She's thinkin' y'all are gonna need stitches, thinks you might be dead! If'n she's lucky, you might only have your damn hand bitten an' then we might be able to cut it off, 'stead'a havin' to bury her kid!"
Caleb shrank back, shamefaced. "'M sorry, Daddy."
Daryl exhaled hard through his nose. "Ain't me you gotta apologise to. And you!" He rounded on Rory, jabbing a finger in his direction. "Your Daddy thinks it's his fault you two could be dead out here! Your poor Ma's cryin' her eyes out and everybody's been lookin' for you all afternoon! You two got any idea how scared we all were?"
Both the boys looked on the verge of tears.
"Come on." Daryl snapped. "We better get back 'fore anyone gets more worried. I should spank you both so hard y'all can't sit down for a month! Hoo, boy," He shook his head in vindictive delight, pointing at Rory again. "I don' wanna be in your shoes when your Ma gets ahold'a you!"
The boys hurried to keep pace with Daryl, and Carl brought up the rear, vigilant for any walkers that may have been drawn to Daryl's thunderous yells.
Daryl scrambled over the wall, using the strategically placed rocks as footholds to climb. Carl climbed halfway up and hauled Rory up first, and the little boy pulled himself up and climbed down the ladder on the inside. Daryl had jogged ahead to tell Maggie, who he knew would be pacing up and down the wall, that they had returned safely and after a few seconds, Maggie came racing along the wall towards them. Caleb climbed down the ladder and Carl dropped to the ground next to him as Maggie scooped Rory up and held onto him tightly, simultaneously berating him for his stupidity and crying relieved tears into his hair as she squeezed him. He held on just as tightly, realizing how afraid he'd been on the outside.
"Caleb." Daryl said gruffly. "C'mere."
Caleb shuffled reluctantly to him, expecting more scolding or a clip around the ear. Daryl dropped into a crouch and beckoned him closer before hugging him tightly.
"Don' you ever go out there again, a'ight?" He murmured. "I ain't kiddin'." He pulled back a little and held his son by his arms. "That walker you saw? It weren't big but it would'a ripped your throat out quicker'n blinkin'. I don' want you to get hurt, little man." He pulled the boy in again. "I love you." He said, feeling a little choked up. "An' so does your Mama, but you better suck up to her for the rest'a your life t'make up for this."
"I love you, too, Daddy." Caleb wrapped his arms around his neck and held on tightly, so Daryl stood up with him in his arms and trudged after Maggie.
Carol met them at the door of the infirmary, dry-eyed but terrified because of the tears streaking Maggie's cheeks and the silence of the two boys, who usually chattered unless they were asleep or eating.
"They're okay." Daryl said, setting Caleb on the nearest cot. "Jus' worn out."
The tears began to well in Carol's eyes as she peeled Caleb out of his dirty shirt, checking him for bites or scratches. She knew Daryl would've said if they'd been hurt, but she needed to see for herself. She set to work wiping the small scrapes he'd gotten from climbing over the wall and up and down trees as the little boy swayed with sleepiness. "You're grounded for a month." She said quietly. "You do your chores, you go to class, you can eat with everyone, but other than that you're not going out to play. You get it? You can't go to Aunt Maggie's and Uncle Glenn's, and you can't play with Rory."
"Yes, Mama." He mumbled. "I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry."
"So you should be." She returned. She and Maggie had planned out the punishments they would inflict on the boys, should they return unscathed. It appeared, however, that Daryl had given them a severe talking-to, because they sat meekly and accepted their punishments without protest.
Once Rory's scrapes and scratches were seen to, Glenn and Maggie took him home to bed in the last slivers of light from the sunset. Caleb was asleep, curled up at the head of the cot with Carol stroking his hair.
"You okay?" Daryl asked.
"I'm okay now." She smiled tiredly at him. "You?"
"Seriously though 'bout whoopin' both of 'em." He admitted. "I was actually considerin' it."
"Honestly?" Carol said, beckoning him over. "I felt like belting them after you left." She rubbed his bicep and kissed his shoulder. "Thank you for finding them." She murmured against his skin.
"What was I gonna do instead?" He asked, rubbing her back. "I ain't lettin' you go through that again."
"I know that." She leaned on him. "But I'm still thankful you did it. He didn't seem to mind being grounded." She changed the subject.
"Give it a week." Daryl snorted. "I'm gonna hold this over him for the rest'a his life, ain't no way he's gonna play up again."
"Parenting, done right." She teased. "We should get him to bed."
Daryl scooped him up and he woke briefly to apologise to his parents again on the trip back to the house, but as they whispered 'sweet dreams' to him they couldn't find it in themselves to be angry any more. He was home safe, and none the worst for his little adventure in terrifying his parents, and Daryl couldn't help but sigh in relief as he eased the door shut behind him.
This is a little bit longer than most of the stuff I've posted recently but I hope you all enjoyed it! Obviously, Beth is alive here... And she'll probably stay alive in this arc because I love her and I can do what I want, basically. Any and all reviews are gratefully received :)