Hey, look! I'm not dead!
I know everyone's waiting for Cellar Door, but I've been wicked blocked and this was the only thing that was coming. I do have half a chapter of CD, though, so soon, my children. Soon.
The scene in episode 4x1 (30 Days without an Accident) where Daryl tells Beth about Zach's death incited a huge reaction from both Caryl fans and Bethyl fans - different reactions, obviously. But I wondered what would Carol think if she'd seen it? Clearly, I'm a Caryler, so I'm wildly biased, but this is where that question led me.
Carol left the library with anxiety squirming like snakes in her gut. Her storytime activities had always been at risk of discovery – the children could let something slip, a parent could walk in... or Carl could overhear her teaching the children how to use knives and tell his father. She knew Rick wouldn't understand, so she'd asked Carl not to tell, because she needed to do this. Sophia had died horribly – fearful and helpless. If Carol could help even one of these children avoid a similar fate, then the deceit, the sneaking around – it would all be worth it.
But now Carl had seen, and Carl might tell. It was tough to guess what Rick might do. He'd stepped away from any sort of leadership responsibilities, but everyone still responded to him as if he were in charge. His opinion held more weight than those of others, and if he objected, then she'd be forced to stop teaching the kids the skills they needed to survive in this new, brutal world.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to relax the knot in her stomach. There wasn't anything she could do about it now, and if she worried about things she couldn't change, then she'd have driven herself mad long ago. She'd finished her work for the day, so she decided it was high time to call it an early night.
She went the back way to the cell block, preferring to avoid the busier corridors. Everything seemed quiet as she approached, and she hoped she could go straight to her cell and read until she fell asleep.
But when she stepped in the doorway, Carol found the cell block wasn't empty after all. Shock stunned her into stillness as she saw Daryl reach up to cup Beth's elbow as she embraced him. His head was down, his nose hovering just above her blonde hair. Words were exchanged between them, but she couldn't hear what they said. After a moment, Beth pulled away and disappeared into her cell. Carol turned and fled before Daryl could see that she was there.
She bolted through the corridors, headed deep into the prison, no destination in mind – just running. She finally stopped in the generator room, gasping for breath, but there didn't seem to be enough oxygen in the air. Dropping her head, she put her hands to her cheeks, trying to cool the burning, but it only got worse.
Before she registered it happening, hot tears were cutting trails down her cheeks. Carol squeezed her eyes tightly closed, trying to stem the flow, but all it did was allow her to see more clearly Beth's arms around Daryl.
Her eyes snapped open. She was jealous. This suffocating pain in her chest was jealousy! She was shocked at the strength of it – she'd never felt anything like it before. It hurt. Scrubbing her hands over her face, she took a deep breath to try to ease some of the pressure. There was nothing to be jealous of, right? What had she seen, really? Beth hugging Daryl. He hadn't even really hugged her back.
But envy clawed its way back up her throat. Beth hugged Daryl, and he had allowed it. The most he'd ever allowed Carol was a quick clasping of hands or a bump of the shoulder here or there. He'd held her in his arms exactly twice before – once when her daughter died and once when Carol herself nearly did. Tears scalded her face again, and a sob lurched its way out.
This was ridiculous. If anyone knew she was crying over this, they'd shake their heads in pity. It was embarrassing and pathetic, but yet the tears kept rolling. Finally she stopped trying to fight them. She dropped to her ass on the filthy floor between the machinery and cried until there was nothing left inside. Eventually the sobs subsided to an occasional sniffle, but she didn't bother wiping her face. She just leaned back against the wall and felt sorry for herself. The tears on her cheeks slowly dried, and the salt began to itch, as if to point out her weakness.
Jealous. And why? She knew she was important to Daryl – he showed her that every day. But Daryl wasn't hers. If he wanted to cuddle with some cute young thing...well, that was his prerogative. Pain lanced through her heart again. Of course she'd already known she had feelings for him, but until now she hadn't realized just how deeply they ran.
She dragged her finger through the heavy dust on the floor, drawing random patterns and letting her mind drift back through the last few weeks, trying to think if she'd seen Daryl and Beth together, but she just couldn't remember. Beth had been spending time with the new guy Zach, and Carol had been sure there was a budding romance there. Maybe she'd been mistaken.
With a start, she realized she'd lost all track of time mooning around back here, and now it was getting late. With a resigned sigh, she got heavily to her feet and brushed the dirt from her hands, then dusted off her behind. She detoured through the shower room to rinse her face and blow her nose before heading back to the cell block. Hopefully if she ran into anyone, they wouldn't notice she'd been crying. She took the back way again - with luck she could get to her cell without anyone seeing her at all.
"There you are!" The scrape of his voice startled her, since she never heard his footsteps. She whirled around to see Daryl down the hall, stepping out of the infirmary. "Where the hell you been? I been lookin' everywhere for you."
Of all the people to run into... She found that for the first time ever, she couldn't meet his eyes. Her throat tightened up, so she shrugged.
"Where were you? Nobody's seen you in hours. I was gettin' worried." He joined her in the corridor and leaned a shoulder against the wall.
"Were you?" A note of disbelief crept in, though she tried for nonchalance.
He paused. "Is somethin' wrong? What happened?"
Shit. Of course he caught that – he caught everything. She shook her head and made a sorry attempt at a smile. Without even looking up, she could feel the weight of his gaze. Desperate to change the subject, she asked, "How'd the run go today?"
"It was a clusterfuck. Walkers were literally rainin' down from the ceiling – I don't even know what happened."
She raised her eyes at the defeat in his voice. She'd never heard him sound so dispirited. "Are you all right?"
He took a breath to answer, but then paused and frowned as he finally got a good look at her face under the dim electric lights of the hallway. "You were crying."
Dammit. Turning away, she shrugged. "It's nothing. It's stupid. I don't want to talk about it." Her cheeks prickled in embarrassment at getting caught out.
He studied her for a moment, then sat down against the wall right there in the hallway. "Sit."
"What are you doing?"
"I wanna sit for a minute. Come on."
Great. After her pathetic meltdown, all she wanted was to hide in her cell for the night. Now not only was Daryl the first person she ran into, but he wanted to talk about it. The whole time she'd known him, now is the one time he wants to talk about it.
Reluctantly, she turned and slid down the wall to sit next to him. The silence stretched, and Carol began to fidget.
Finally he spoke. "So, rough day?"
"I guess." She tried diverting the subject again. "Yours, too, it sounds like."
But he didn't take the bait – he just nodded soberly before asking point blank, "What made you cry?"
She sighed. "I told you, it's stupid, and I really don't want to talk about it." She felt like an idiot.
He gnawed at a thumbnail as he regarded her. "Ain't seen you cry in months, so it ain't stupid, and it ain't nothin'. You didn't get hurt, right? No vicious papercut during storytime that maybe needs stitches?"
He knew perfectly well she was teaching the kids to use knives. Smiling a little in spite of her misery, she replied, "No. No papercuts."
"Somebody say something?"
"No."
"Somebody do something?"
Why wouldn't he leave it? "Daryl, please...?"
Grunting noncommittally, he went back to his thumbnail, but kept watching her from the corner of his eye. Then he changed tack on her. Shifting slightly, he nudged her shoulder with his. "Sorry you had a shitty day."
Despite her jealousy and her annoyance at his ill-timed nosiness, she found herself closing her eyes and leaning into his touch. He was always a source of comfort to her even when he was the cause of her frustrations. But it wasn't just that. After her little fit of jealousy, she had to admit to herself that his touch, however slight or incidental...just felt good. She craved it.
"Thanks. You, too." In another attempt to change the focus to him, she said, "Tell me about the run."
"Ain't a lot to tell," he rumbled. "Shoulda been easy, but it all went to shit. The end."
She glanced over, taking in his sudden tension, and realization hit. Her belly went cold. "Someone died."
While she was throwing herself a pity party in the dark corners of the prison, someone had died.
"Yeah." His voice was dark and rough. "Happened so fast. Fuckin' walkers fallin' down everywhere, a goddamn helicopter comin' through the roof..." He broke off without finishing. Though he mostly appeared calm, she could feel the storm rolling beneath the surface.
"God," she breathed. "Are you okay?"
Daryl closed his eyes for just a moment, and chewed his lip. "I will be."
She nodded, trusting that it was the truth. Dreading the answer, she asked, "Who was it?"
"Zach. Nothin' any of us could do. He was just...gone. Had to leave him."
Carol's mouth opened, but a crush of conflicting feelings choked off her voice. The grief and sorrow over Zach's death clashed with a wild surge of relief and even elation. If Zach had been killed, then that's what she'd seen in the cell block – Daryl must have broken the news to Beth.
And then she flushed, ashamed of her selfishness. A boy was dead.
"I'm so sorry," she offered softly.
Staring down at the floor between his knees, he gave a small nod.
They sat together in silence for a few moments before Carol ventured, "How did Beth take it?"
Daryl shook his head, then shrugged. "Dunno. She didn't seem too upset. Didn't even cry." He blinked and looked directly at her. "So what happened that made you cry?"
Dropping her eyes, she felt her cheeks burn again. "Nothing. Please just forget it. It wasn't even what I thought it was, so it's like it never happened, okay?"
Carol's discomfort grew with each agonizing second he sat watching her steadily, until she couldn't bear it any longer. Just as she started to make an excuse to get away from his scrutiny, he finally spoke.
"I saw you earlier."
"What?" Her heart sank. Maybe he meant something else?
"At Beth's cell. I saw you take off."
Well, crap.
This day was just getting better and better. Maybe to top it off, she could have an aneurysm and die before bed.
When she didn't respond, he continued. "Didn't think anything of it, but then you didn't come back. Got to wonderin' where you'd disappeared to, so I went lookin'. And here I find you been off cryin'."
Daryl squirmed a little, and some crazy part of her was perversely happy that he was uncomfortable, too.
She hugged her knees and refused to meet his eyes. "I told you it's stupid. I don't want to talk about it."
"So... that is what this is about, then?" he prodded.
She scowled at the floor. "I said I don't want to talk about it!"
"Can you at least tell me if that's what it's about?" Frustration sharpened his tone.
"No!"
"Will you just talk to me like a goddamn adult? What's with the adolescent bullshit?" he snapped.
Carol scrambled to her feet. "Adolescent bullshit? Looked to me like that was your thing now."
He rose and squared off with her, his jaw set. "Oh, real classy. Her boyfriend just got fuckin' eaten by walkers. The hell is wrong with you?"
"Oh, I don't know. I guess walking in to see you...snuggling with sweet, young little Beth was a bit of a shock, okay?"
"She's the one hugged me!" He jabbed a finger off in the general direction of the cell block.
"Fine, whatever. Didn't see you objecting." Crossing her arms, she cringed a little at the petulant tone of her own voice.
He matched her pose and eyed her with a bit of a squint. "Zach is dead. And I'm s'posed to – what? Tell her too bad, life's rough, now go fuck off back to whatever you were doin'?"
Carol looked away. "Of course not."
"Then what? You're upset cuz I wasn't a heartless asshole?"
"No!"
"Then what? You jealous or somethin'?"
"YES!" She flung her arms out to the sides in her frustration. "Yes, Daryl! I am jealous! Is that what you need to hear?"
He stared at her as though she'd sprouted extra arms.
"I'm jealous because you let her hug you, and the most I ever get from you is a lousy damn shoulder bump even though I'm an actual friend. There. I said it. Happy now? I'm a petty, pathetic, horrible person." Her eyes stung as she blinked back humiliated tears. God, hadn't she run out of those by now?
"Y'are not! And what makes you think I wouldn't let you hug me?"
"...What?"
"You ain't never tried." His eyes flicked to her face, then back to the floor.
She gaped at him for a moment in disbelief. "You're telling me that if I tried to hug you, you would let me do it. You're saying I've never gotten a hug from you because I've never given you one."
Picking at a callus on his palm, Daryl shrugged. "I guess?"
Narrowing her eyes, she pointed out, "You've never tried to hug me, either! Why's it my job?"
"It ain't, really. I'm just sayin', is all."
"Well, um... fine. Okay then." All of her anger and embarrassment had melted into confusion.
"Fine."
"Okay. So..." The air felt thick enough to choke on. Carol finally cleared her throat. "You, uh- You headed back to C?"
"Nah. Not yet. ...You goin' then?"
She lifted one shoulder. "No, I might stay for a bit, too."
The corner of his mouth quirked upward almost imperceptibly.
They settled against the wall right back where they'd been, though Carol wasn't sure if she felt more or less awkward than before. Mulling over their bizarre exchange, she decided on less awkward. Slightly.
As an afterthought to the conversation, she added, "Just so we're clear? If you did hug me, I'd let you."
The corner of his mouth quirked again. "Okay."
After a while, Daryl leaned to give her shoulder a familiar nudge and said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't'a kept hasslin' you after you said to leave it."
"No, you shouldn't've." She smiled a bit. "Jerk."
A minute later he nudged her again. "And just so you know, you ain't gotta be jealous. I don't shoulder bump just anybody."
"Stop," she growled and bumped him back.
They pushed back and forth for a moment, but in the end they were shoulder to shoulder – each leaning on and supporting the other. Carol laced her fingers and hooked them over her knees. Turning slightly, she examined his face in the weak, flickering lights of the corridor.
"Daryl? I'm so sorry about what happened to Zach. I'm sorry you had to see it. Will you really be all right?"
Tension rippled under the surface again, but he nodded. "Yeah. It was a shitty day, but I'll be fine."
"Okay."
After a few more minutes sitting comfortably together, Carol hauled herself to standing and dusted off her pants. "You know, it's late. I think I'm going back now. You coming?"
She held out a hand, palm up. He hesitated only an instant before reaching out to take it.
Once he was on his feet they let go, but neither of them moved. Heart hammering in her chest, she decided just to dive right into the deep end.
"You know...they say that after a really bad day, one thing that can sometimes make things a little better is a hug."
"I've heard that," he acknowledged.
With a breezy air, she said, "I suppose I'd be willing to offer one if you thought it might help."
He gnawed the inside of his cheek and scratched the scruff on his jaw. "Okay."
"Okay?"
He took a tiny step closer, and suddenly she was a gawky, uncoordinated teenager all over again.
Carol thought anyone watching would never believe either of them had ever experienced a hug in their lives. They couldn't seem to work out whose arms should go where. And no matter which way she angled her head, it was the wrong way, and they nearly bumped noses twice. She found the physical sensations of the embrace overwhelmingly magnified – the tickle of his long hair on her cheek, the heat of his hands and arms placed so carefully on her back, the mixed textures of his angel wing vest under her fingers. And once they'd finally maneuvered themselves into an actual hug, an agonizing awareness of every part of her own body burned in her brain. Was she holding him too tightly? Were her hands in the right place? Was she too tense? Too close? Maybe she shouldn't have pressed so close. Were their hips touching? Oh, God. Could he tell she was smelling his neck?
"Oh!"
Beth lurched to a halt as she came around the corner down the hall. "I'm sorry! I didn't- Sorry!" she stammered.
Carol jerked away from Daryl as if she'd been burned. She felt a blush rise as she struggled to appear casual. "Beth! Hi. Um, I heard about Zach. I'm so sorry – are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine, thank you. I, uh- I was looking for my dad. Do you know if he's in the infirmary?"
Daryl shook his head. "Infirmary's empty. Last place I saw him was the library."
"Okay. Well...thank you! Sorry!" Side-stepping past the two of them, Beth hurried down the hall and off toward the library.
Carol watched her go, then made a wry face at Daryl and blurted out, "Well, that was awkward."
"Which part? The huggin' or the gettin' caught?"
She smothered a grin and replied, "Both, I think."
Still looking down the hallway in the direction Beth had disappeared, he said, "A hug's supposed to make a bad day better, right? Does it still work if it's interrupted? Maybe we oughta try it again – make sure it has a chance to do its job." If she didn't know him so well, she would have missed the quivering hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.
"You're probably right. It was a pretty bad day – don't want to leave it half done."
Her stomach fluttered nervously as they moved together again. Though Carol was still acutely aware of every point of contact between them, this time they embraced far more gracefully. No tangled arms or bumped noses. And by the time they pulled apart, her nervousness had changed into something else. Something warm and charged. Something powerful.
When it was over, a stillness fell over them. Carol looked up at him, skin still tingling everywhere their bodies had touched. He gave her a soft smile, and after a moment, they both turned to walk back to the cells without needing to discuss it.
"So? What do you think? Did it help?" she asked as they walked without hurry.
He glanced at her and replied, "Things are definitely better."
They walked the rest of the way in comfortable silence. By the time they reached the cell block, most everyone had already gone to bed for the night. Soft snores and rustling came from behind the privacy curtains of the occupied cells.
Just before turning to head for her own cell, Carol paused and whispered, "Good night. I'm sure tomorrow'll be better."
Daryl nodded. "Hope so." Then he quirked a half-smile. "'Night."
She ducked into her cell and busied herself getting ready for bed. When she settled into her bunk, she closed her eyes and bunched the blanket up under her chin. The hug she'd shared with Daryl had left her restless, but she soon relaxed. Drifting toward sleep, she smiled into her pillow, looking forward to the morning.