Chapter 1: Through the Mourning
They had found a place to stay. It wasn't much, just a deserted house with few supplies and barely enough space to accommodate everyone, but luckily had a well feeding the pipeline and the possibility of taking a real bath made them stop their journey and rest there for a couple of nights.
Beth was buried three days ago in a place away in the woods among prayers of Father Gabriel and Maggie's sobs. All of them had tears in the eyes, all but Daryl. The archer remained far from everyone, sitting on a rock positioned in a place that gave him a clear vision of where Carol was, while Rick and Tyreese dug a grave for the girll.
The fact that he search her with his eyes to make sure she was there and well even in the midst of his pain made her feel like smiling and gave her a will top ut her arms aroung him tight against her chest. Carol knew she couldn't run away, no more. Her life was next to that man and she could not get away from him, even if it meant the ruin of both.
The expression on Daryl's face was impassive despite he was visibly depressed. An explosion of emotion and anger would be better than the disturbing and austere silence that had plunged since he had carried Beth's body away from that place.
Just as he remained attentive to her, Carol watched him within walking distance. The fact that they sit there and share the pain speechless was the particular form of the two to mourning their dead and served them well enough. Carol still felt pain in her abdomen and stabbing pains in her right leg when she forced herself to walk, but would heal soon. She had healed from Ed's worst beatings.
Since then Carol came reliving the day they finally found and buried her little girl on the farm.
That day Carol could not believe her eyes, it wasn't really happening, was it? The image of her daughter coming out of the barn seemed to move in slow motion, slower than her dragging and changing footsteps. Sophia ...
All around Carol had stopped, but the images around her were just a blur meaningless when they occurred. Shapeless and colorless figures that nowadays formed a somewhat confusing picture and maybe somewhat inaccurate.
The world stopped spinning, there was only the sepulchral silence on her ears, even if that thing that had once been his little girl didn't stop making strange noises and drop low yelps. There she was, with her rainbow little T-shirt framing a gray skin and yellow eyes almost shut in a contracted expression due the clarity outside the barn.
The possibility of her precious daughter has become one of those things was inconceivable to Carol. All the love she felt for her, all the pain faced by her and all the terror that she had lived for Sophia made Carol's brain spin, clouding her senses.
"Is that what happens with a sinner that asks God to kill her husband? MY DAUGHTER WAS INNOCENT! " She thought in despair.
A mother without a child has no reason to be. So what if the creature would bite her? Carol's death seemed an infinitely small price to embrace what was left of Sophia's little body. Die in her arms would be a blessing and nothing else mattered, simple as that.
In thousandths of next few seconds her legs were quick to obey her and Carol projected forward into a run toward Sophia. But those steps that seemed about overcome the immeasurable distance between life and death were abruptly interrupted.
Daryl had held her, holding Carol with his arms with such a strength that for a moment their bodies collided and they collapsed together on the floor in a tangle of arms and legs and hands in different directions but equally strong. With one arm he held her close to him, leaning her back into his shoulder to comfort her as she cried in pure and cruel despair.
Only after many months and many other losses and farewells Carol understand how intimate that moment was for both. Daryl's hands on her arm and waist, her back leaning against the against his chest, his warm breath against her neck and their legs close. Their bodies fit together like pieces of a puzzle of only two parts.
"Don't look, don't look!". He told hoarsely when lifting jher off the ground using his own body as support. Carol said nothing, only pulled away from him in an agitated manner, leaving his arms empty in the same abrupt way in which he filled it before rushing toward the RV.
Carol still remembered that he found her there, sitting at the small table, without tears for a briefly moment. They exchanged a quick glance and he remained there, sitting next to her making her company while her thoughts swirled in turmoil. She would not bury it, that was not Sophia. No... her daughter didn't cried herself to sleep, didn't get hungry. Her daugher didn't missed her or called for her. Her daughter had died and she wouldn't bury a walker.
In her mind, as a known and often rewatched film, she relived the images and sensations of the first night her little girl did not even exist as a living or as a reanimated corpse. Carol, from inside the RV, stood in bed with open eyes staring at the dark and heard when Daryl dismissed Glenn from his watch and took his place on roof of the vehicle.
He was not surprised to watch her come up the stairs. Daryl had confessed to her, much later, that despite the sadness and pain, to see her there, standing with her simple and nothing attractive cotton nightshirt swaying in the soft breeze, with tired eyes and red nose, was one of the most beautiful images he had ever seen.
Words were not changed for a long time as they face each other. He could see in that suffered woman's eyes the unspoken gratitude. A soft smile took Daryl's lips and it was enough to make her cover the short space that separated them and bury her face in his neck with her hands at the sides of her own boddy.
Daryl did not move or rejected the unexpected physical contact. After several seconds he leaned his rifle in the chair and let the tips of his fingers of one hand met hers in a subtle and tender touch. Carol did not cry, did not tremble, did not say anything, not even when he his other arm around her waist, pressing her against his chest to kiss her hair.
"Everything will be fine, I'm here with you." Whispered Daryl.
Now Carol understand his motivations and felt her heart cherished the idea that he not only kept her from dying as prevent any living human being to waste its life, he stopped her from dying because it would mean her death, the end of her existence and that he could not allow. Carol had become Daryls' confidencee source and the fact she believed that he was a good man, a man of honor, made him glimpse a small chance to really become the man she believed him to be.
From that night on top of the RV until then much had happened, to the group as a whole and between Carol and Daryl, but some barriers seemed impossible to overcome, even after everything they lived.
Then there was Carol, accommodated in single bed at her own bedroom with the covers involving her tired and aching body even as her mind tried to find a solution to make Daryl react. Only after the storm would be peace for him and then he would be able to overcome the loss of another Young girl who he tried to save at all costs.
What Carol did not expect was to hear the door be opened and closed carefully and did not expect to identify the contours of his shadow walking toward the bed. She lifted the covers and left him accommodate at her side, leaning his head on her shoulder and laying a hand on her belly.
Carol stroked Daryl hair softly as their fingers intertwined over her belly. Their hands always find each other's when they were alone like two magnets. They also had a nasty habit of exchanging kisses hidden at any time and sometimes not always so far apart from the group.
To her surprise, there were no tears or bursts, there was only that comfortable silence that usually settled between them when they were alone. Daryl gently brought her hands together to his face and kissed her hand for long seconds.
"How are ya feeling?" He finally asked.
"I'm better. You?"
"Just want to lay here with ya. Do you mind?"
"You can lay with me every night if you want to." And there it was, that tone at her voice, a mix of provocation and mockery that irritated and embarrassed Daryl.
"Pfffff... Stop woman. I can't have my way with ya yet. Ya still recovering."
"So we are going to screw around." She provoked further, moving her hip languidly toward his hip.
"Yeah. I'll give ya what ya want, many times ya want and anywhere ya want." Daryl was kissing her neck. Soft opened mouth kisses that send chills through her spine.
"Why now Daryl?" She asked, looking at him with a curious look on her eyes.
"Cuz I figured out kissing is not enough anymore. Guess I'm ready to take the next step. And I'll make you a decente woman someday too."
He was serious, so serious that it scared her a bit, but Carol knew, of course she knew, that his decision was not a new. The fact he almost lost her twice in the past months and Beth's death maid him move. Finally.
"I'm not marrying you." She told him trying to suppress a smile.
"The fuck you're not, Carol Dixon."
They would be okay.
NA: I really would like to know what you think about it. Hope you all enjoyed.