Timeline: This jumps about all over the place – set during seasons 3, 4 & 5.
Pairing: Carol/pretty much everyone (Carol/Tyreese, Carol/Tara, Carol/Merle, Carol/Eugene, Carol/Rick, Carol/Daryl)
Disclaimer: If this show, characters and thangs belonged to me, you'd know about it. They don't. So don't sue.
A/N: No fictitious characters were harmed during the making of this fic - except Eugene (he may have suffered some minor cookie-related injuries).
Girl Disappearing
Tyreese
His hand curls around her fingers and squeezes gently.
Carol looks up, his worried eyes peer into hers.
Tyreese tries to give a reassuring smile but she sees the pain behind it.
"It's okay," she whispers.
"S'pposed to be me doin' the reassuring," he says lightly.
She smiles, for the first time since... she tries not to think of Lizzie. Tries to vanquish those memories.
"Hey," Tyreese calls - bringing her back to him, to the moment.
For such a giant man, he has an inherent softness.
He raises her hand to his lips and places a kiss on her palm. It's such an intimate act, done with nothing but good intention.
She holds his eye.
They're standing on train tracks, the sun is setting and Judith's asleep in her carrier on Tyreese's back. They're beneath a pecan tree and she feels the grief - raw and relentless.
Tyreese is so demonstrative, so physical... she's used to the intimate silences with Daryl, the fleeting touches that carry so much meaning... and here's Ty, giving her so much... too much... pulling her in. Overwhelming her.
Slowly, and still clasping her hand, he leans in and gently places a kiss on her cheek. Carol remains still. Not sure of her feelings. Everything between them is confused. Chaotic. So many twisted emotions and ties. Karen. The fall of the prison. The grove. Lizzie. Judith.
His forgiveness had been the biggest thing she'd ever asked for. And now here he was, caressing her cheek and looking into her eyes like she's the only one who understands.
His breath is warm against her face.
He runs his thumb across her bottom lip, their eyes lock.
She's full of apprehension... not sure she wants this. Not sure she doesn't.
She thinks of Daryl. Wonders where he is. Who he's with.
Tyreese leans in, his lips about to touch hers... the air around them halts... and then Judith lets out a cry.
It startles them both.
Tyreese pulls away and Carol is relieved, because she's not sure she would have resisted. She needs him. Tyreese is the only one who fully understands her demons... it's created an intimacy between them.
His heart is so big, so capable... she remembers the feel of his arms around her at the grove. Enveloping her. Warm and comforting... and she hadn't felt she deserved that comfort. She'd been lying to him then but now it's different. Now he knew the truth and still wants her near.
Tyreese rocks Judith, to calm her. He holds her tightly and hums a lullaby in her ear.
She settles.
Carol smiles; he's a natural.
He catches her gaze. "What?"
Carol puts her hand on his arm and leans in, placing a tender kiss on his lips. "It's not over," she whispers. "We'll make it, you'll see."
He smiles.
Tara
What's left of the group ambles along the dusty road.
The gun strap cuts into her shoulder. Her feet are numb and every inch of her skin is covered in sweat. She shifts the weight of her firearm onto her left hip and hears someone approach alongside her. She turns to see Tara. They exchange a smile, then focus their eyes back on the endless road ahead.
Steam rises off the tarmac. The sky is cloudless and their mouths are dry.
"So..." Tara begins.
Carol looks expectantly at her. She's getting used to these newbies. She still feels out of place; like the group has adjusted without her. But she's trying.
Her friends have died and new people she doesn't know, doesn't trust, have come in. Tara is one of them.
Carol likes the ex-cop, likes her frankness and humour... but Carol doesn't know her.
"Washington seems a lot further on foot, huh?" Tara jokes.
Carol nods.
There's a brittle silence; nothing but the beat of footsteps and the sound of crickets.
"How are you?" Tara perseveres. "I mean - your injuries? You doin' okay?"
Carol nods again.
She feels Tara tense... and it's been a long time since she's had to make an effort. She's forgotten how to be civil, how to do the polite 'get to know you' conversation.
She glances sideways at Tara and decides now is the time to exert herself. If it hadn't been for Tara, who knows if Glenn and Maggie would've made it. She owes the young woman for helping her family.
"How are you holding up?" Carol asks.
Tara looks visibly relieved, like at last she's cracked Carol's secret code.
"Okay. The Mullet drives me nuts sometimes but it's all in days work."
Carol smiles. She's heard Eugene's rants.
"Guess he's an acquired taste," Carol teases.
Tara's eyes light-up, feeling a comradeship. "Bit like Daryl," she states.
Carol stiffens.
Tara immediately kicks herself. Daryl is Carol's BFF - she shouldn't pick holes. First rule of hitting on somebody – don't slag-off their friends.
"You got some moves," Tara says quickly.
Carol catches the flirty tone and smiles; flattered.
"I like a woman who can take care of herself," Tara continues.
Carol leans closer and hears the hitch in Tara's breath.
"I'm not a lesbian," Carol says softly.
Tara is alarmed. "But you've got the - "
"Short hair?" Carol finishes.
Tara nods.
"It's Georgia. It's hot," Carol points out. "It's not a statement."
"Oh."
Carol gently nudges Tara's shoulder and smiles warmly at her. "If I were - we would so be on!"
Tara laughs and Carol grins.
They keep in step with each other and fall into easy conversation for the next two miles.
Merle
His eyes follow her everywhere. She wonders if it's a Dixon trait; that intense stare. That feeling, like you're the only thing in their sights. Like they're closing-in.
His slow purposeful walk. His smile - brazen and over-confident. She wants to hit him, but as he draws near, deliberately trying to... what? Intimidate her? Wrong-foot her? Fluster her?
There's a menacing look in his eyes... like he wants to rip her clothes off but has a grudging respect for her.
Carol remembers his attitude towards her at the camp after the turn - he ignored her, like she was nothing... and now. Now his back goes up whenever she enters the room. Like she's a siren calling out to him. Like he sees her as a challenge.
His hook scrapes the rail as he moves down the stairs towards her. She's preparing dinner and deliberately doesn't look up. She knows it's him, knows he wants attention and she refuses to pander to his bullshit.
She bends over to retrieve the ladel. She feels him move close to her, hovering behind her.
"You want something?" she asks pointedly, refusing to turn round.
She imagines the suggestive cock of his head. The smug grin covering his face and she sighs.
"Maybe," he croons.
She straightens and stirs the stew.
"I hear you and my little brother are... good friends. Just wanna make sure he's keepin' the right sorta company. You bein' good to him?"
Carol turns to face Merle. "None of your damn business," she snaps.
Merle grins. "That's what I thought. He's too pussy. Can't deal with a real woman."
He grips Carol's hips and she's startled by his forwardness.
As he swoops in to kiss her, instinctively, she turns her face away and raises her hand - slapping him hard.
The sound reverberates through the mess hall.
Merle's grin is wider than she expected.
"Well ain't we the fiery one?" he mocks.
Carol tries to pull away but he grips her arms tightly.
"Not so fast missy!" he exclaims, enjoying her squirming.
There's a thud and they both turn.
Daryl kicks over a chair and throws his crossbow on a table, pointed in Merle's direction.
There's a palpable silence.
Merle takes a step back from Carol, releasing his grip of her.
Daryl's eyes are fixed on his brother; cold and unflinching.
"Hey little brother," Merle drawls.
"Don't," Daryl warns, his eyes gleaming with something Merle's never seen before - pure hatred.
"Geeze - no need to be so touchy. I was just givin' the lady a helpin' hand."
"She don't need nothin' from you," Daryl states.
Merle takes a step back. "Gonna get some rest... give me a shout when dinner's ready."
He slips onto C Block.
Carol glances over at Daryl. He looks embarrassed, disconcerted.
"You okay?" he asks.
She smiles. "Yeah."
He grunts and picks up his crossbow, slings it across his shoulder and moves towards her.
"That rabbit stew?" he asks softly.
She nods.
He picks up a bowl and stands beside her. "Smells good."
Eugene
He lifts the cookie off the plate and raises it to his lips, mouth salivating in anticipation. He opens his mouth and feels a sharp slap across his knuckles. He drops the cookie instinctively.
Carol glares at him; her best murderous gaze.
He gulps nervously. She always makes him jumpy. She has that calm exterior with a slightly scary, slightly sexy 'I'll kill you in your sleep' undercurrent.
"They're not for you," she states matter-of-factly.
He averts his gaze. "Guess bad manners are only charming if you use a crossbow."
Her glare intensifies.
He shifts his weight from one leg to another. "Probably not the best thing to say."
She purses her lips and folds her arms across her chest. "Probably?"
He turns to face her. Her sky blue eyes blaze with annoyance. Her short spikey hair is wild and she possesses an air of confidence that he envies.
"I see what I see," he states cryptically.
Carol takes a step towards him. Eugene sucks-in a sharp breath.
Carol's shoulders roll back. "Do I scare you?" she asks.
"A little," he admits.
She smiles sweetly. "That's good. You're smarter than I thought."
Impulsively he leans forward and plants a kiss squarely on her lips.
Carol draws back.
They stare at each other in disbelief; both shocked that Eugene had the gumption to do that.
Carol recovers first. "Maybe not that smart," she corrects.
Eugene's eyes widen. "Sorry..." he mumbles. "I didn't mean to... I just..." he starts to hyperventilate. "I like strong women and the Brady Bunch. You've got both attributes in abundance - it's very confusing."
"It's fine," she says nonchalantly.
Eugene's shoulder's relax but his expression remains cautious. "Really?" he squeaks.
She nods, picking-up a cookie and shoves it in his mouth.
"Just don't do it again. Understood?"
Eugene nods.
Carol lets go of the cookie and stalks out of the kitchen.
Eugene closes his eyes, relieved... and yet strangely turned-on.
Rick
Carol hums the lullaby she used to sing to Sophia. She feels Judith's light breathing against her shoulder and smiles. Gently she places the sleeping baby down in the makeshift crib.
Silently Rick walks into the cell behind her. His eyes watch every move Carol makes. He smiles warmly. He misses Lori, misses all the things she would have done for Judith... but Carol is a good surrogate.
He moves close beside her and they both gaze down into the crib.
"How's she doing?" he whispers.
She meets his eyes.
"Good," Carol replies.
Her smile is bright – it reaches her eyes and makes them shine.
He takes a moment. She's beautiful when she's unguarded. He wonders what it would be like to run his hands through that short hair and kiss her lips...
She knew Lori so well... better than he had these last few months... she's able to share that history with the kids, able to pass on wisdom... she is kind and nurturing and he needs that - his kids need that. She is someone he can build a future with.
Rick runs his fingers up Carol's forearm, his breath uneven.
Carol stiffens under his touch. Her eyes shift to meet his; his intention clear.
She takes a breath and he waits... for rejection or acceptance.
His fingers hover at her shoulder and Carol takes a step back. His hand falls away. He swallows hard and averts his gaze.
"I'd better get dinner started," she says lightly.
He nods but stays silent.
She moves around him and exits his cell.
Rick stares after her.
Daryl
They belong to each other. That's understood. By everyone.
He comes back from a run with Aaron. He's been gone for three weeks. A week longer than expected.
Daryl can't wait to see her. He feels the tightness in his belly; the tense excitement. She does that to him; every time.
They pull into the ASZ and she's there, at the gates, hands on hips. Staring hard at the car as they roll up. She looks like she wants to hug him and kill him.
He holds her gaze through the window. Gets out of the car and slams the door shut.
Hesitantly, he moves towards her. Usually she's smiling. Usually she's full of news. Usually she's relieved he's safe. Not today.
He stops directly in front of her. Feeling small and displaced.
"Hey," he mumbles.
Her gaze is icy. "That's all you've got to say?" she asks coolly.
He shrugs, feeling like a gangly teenager. His hair falls in his eyes as he bows his head, suddenly ashamed... at keeping her waiting... for worrying her...
"Never mind," she says sternly and turns, walking away.
Daryl chases after her; he always seems to be behind.
He catches her up on main street and falls in step with her. They walk along the street. Their street. Towards the house. Their house.
He still isn't used to it; he's used to calling her home.
He remembers the prison fondly – he felt relevant there. Here he's nothing. Here he doesn't recognise her...
"Sorry," he says.
Carol doesn't look at him. "For what?"
And it's a test.
He touches her arm lightly. She stops. They turn to face each other.
"I'm sorry," he repeats.
Carol softens and he smiles that smile he only gives to her.
"I don't mean to stay away... I want to be here," he doesn't add, 'with you' but she knows.
She nods. She gets it; she always gets it.
"We good?" Daryl asks.
Carol smiles. Her blue eyes light-up and leave him winded. She smiles – her lips crooked and alluring. He takes a breath. Sometimes she floors him - without even trying.
"We're good," she affirms.
He steps closer. Emboldened. He reaches out, his fingertips grazing her arm.
Carol's breath hitches.
"You save me," he says softly.
She raises a quizzical eyebrow.
"When I'm out there. On the road. Thoughts of you keep me going," he confesses.
She lifts her hand and brushes his jaw.
He's done with waiting. With delaying. He wraps his arms around Carol's waist and pulls her taut against him. Their faces an inch apart, their lips tantalisingly close.
Carol doesn't resist. She meets his eyes - unabashed. It's time.
She reaches up and strokes his cheek. With her other hand she gently brushes the hair out of his eyes. Raises her lips to his and softly kisses him.
The sunlight filters through her hair, creates a halo around her like he doesn't already know she's the most important person alive.
Her skin is warm beneath his touch and her lips smooth like velvet... she's everything he knew she would be... she's Carol; she could never be anything less.
They draw apart.
"You okay?" he asks.
"Yeah," she whispers huskily.
He slips his hand into hers and they head towards the house.