Nox: Tumblr Prompt for the USS Caryl! Woot Woot! A bit of frivolity on my part. I seriously had way too much fun with this. Everything in here has nothing to do with the show. Characters that died may still be here, time has no relevance, and Caryl is, well Caryl. I hope you enjoy it!
The Walking Dead belongs to Kirkman and AMC.
A Shoebox of Us
"Brush yer teeth," he said one more time, his patience growing thinner by the fuckin' second. She splashed in the small tub, giggling. She pushed down on the rubber duck bobbing in the water until it was fully submerged and giggled again.
He was losing this fight and he knew it. How the hell was he supposed to tell this little girl to do somethin'?
She looked up at him, and smiled, all five of her teeth showing wide. "No." Shit. She was just too damn cute. Why the hell had he been given this job in the first place? He should a been on watch with Merle, or out huntin'. They all knew he was the worst at makin' her do shit.
He clenched his jaw, the toothbrush fisting in his hand. "Carol said you need to start learnin' to brush yer-"
She started slapping the duck in the water and laughing, and as much as he wanted to be 'stern' with her, a term Carol had used; he was losing the will for it.
"No. No. No. No." She looked up at him and giggled, pulling his arm into the water with her and making him slap the duck this time, laughing all the while. "No," she said looking up at him, her eyes sparkling as she released him.
"Dammit Jude," he barked, standing up. Wasn't it just the one word that would be her first would be 'no'. And every time ya tried to tell her otherwise, it was still fuckin' no. Did she want something to eat; no. Did she want to go outside; no. She said no to everything no matter what it was. And then she had the nerve to laugh at ya, no matter how pissed ya were at her. She knew it too, when ya were pissed. She knew it.
Fuck it. If she weren't gonna brush her teeth for him, he weren't gonna sit there and let her laugh at him about it. He'd just get Carol and let her deal with it.
Her eyes went wide as she pointed her delicate little finger at him. She was gettin' on to look just like her mama.
"Ohh," she said softly, her mouth wide. He grabbed up the towel and snatched her out of the little tub, the duck clasped tightly in her hand. And then her face split into a bright smile.
She rubbed his cheek with hers, hugging him tightly. "Bad," she giggled out, kicking her legs against his chest.
He just groaned and walked out of the kitchen, Jude held tightly to his chest. Carol was gonna hear it from him.
"Deer are…they're fuckin'…" Merle fumbled for the right word, or any word, "goddammit they fuckin' majestic!" She couldn't stifle the laugh that bubbled passed her lips.
He glared at her, lifting his other arm between them, as if threatening her. He just looked ridiculous with the purple scarf wrapped tightly around it. He'd taken to not wearing the weapon on his arm and instead to wearing something else wrapped around it, for comfort; for the peace of the others mind. He'd refused to answer her question about the woman he used to love so he had to wear her purple scarf wrapped around it this time. She giggled harder.
"Goddammit woman," he muttered and lowered his arm, shifting his right leg under his left. He sat in an old folding chair, legs propped up against the wall of the watchtower. They were supposed to be on lookout, but somehow they'd both gotten sidetracked. Carol wasn't sure who started it first, but she wouldn't say she wasn't glad for the distraction.
"And why are deer so fuckin' majestic?" she pried, not ashamed to be enjoying the company of Merle Dixon. If there was one thing she had figured out about the older Dixon in the time he had been there, it was that he was just looking for a friend. And hell, she was starting to like him. She was starting to understand why Daryl had wanted Merle back. Underneath all that bravado of tough skin, and a blackened heart he was just a man with a hurt soul. And she didn't wonder sometimes if he just wanted someone to take care of him.
"Have ya ever tasted venison? Worn buckskin?" His eyes lit up like he was a child in a candy store. "Have ya ever watched a deer woman?" He turned to her, dropping his legs to the floor, arms resting on his knees. "Have ya ever watched them glide through the trees like they was one with it?" She could feel her lips turning up at the corners, and she wanted to laugh so badly. Listening to Merle talk about deer as if they were creatures of beauty to be studied, to be admired was the most ridiculous thing ever.
Of course, she had never thought she would be up here taking watch with him either, liking it all the same.
"Eaten, yes. Seen…no," she said biting her lip, "although…" she pondered thoughtfully as the laughter died in her throat. If there was one thing she had ever seen glide through the trees like they were one with them it was...
"I have seen something like them before," she volunteered hesitantly. His brows went up, and she could see the doubt clear across his face.
"Bet ya ain't seen shit 'fore," he mumbled, turning away from her, and propping his legs back up on the wall. He brought up the pair of binoculars to his eyes, scanning the border of the fence. He grunted and shook his head.
She had seen something as graceful as what he was describing though. She saw it every day. And every day she became more captivated by it, every day she found just a little more courage to approach him about it.
"Yes I have," she whispered. She watched him every day as he left the protective walls of the group to hunt for their food. She watched him hold Judith with a tenderness she had never known was there. She watched the way he would keep track of everyone in the group, herself included, and knew that he would always put them first before himself.
He carried himself with a grace, and a tentativeness she hadn't ever seen before. But the moment something spooked him, or he knew trouble was coming he'd tear ass to the safest place that he knew.
She could watch Daryl move through the world for the rest of her life, and she would always be transfixed.
"Deer are fucking majestic," she murmured absently. She could see Merle look at her from out of the corner of her eye.
"How the hell would you know?" She smiled a little, and looked at him, his blue eyes so much like Daryl's but with flecks of gray hidden just at the edges. She just shrugged her shoulders deciding it was better not to say.
"There is one deer I've never tasted," she admitted. Merle stared at her for a moment, the silence thick between them. She felt her face flush immediately. Had she really just let that slip out? She had never felt so embarrassed in her life. And she could tell that Merle knew.
He knew. Knew that she wasn't just talking about deer. She could see it in his eyes. He knew exactly what she was talking about.
His eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward, closer to her. "Ya mean elk?" he asked quietly, eyes watching her darkly. She swallowed hard, confused. Had she dodged a bullet? Whatever he thought, she would go with it.
She nodded fiercely, "yeah," she stuttered out, biting her lip nervously. He looked her up and down for a moment, one brow going up quizzically.
And then he leaned over and snaked his arm around her waist. Her eyes widened, as an indignant squeak burst passed her lips.
"Well why didn't ya just say so!" he bellowed, lifting her expertly with his scarfed arm and setting her on his lap.
This was definitely not who she had in mind.
"Merle," she pleaded softly, pushing against his chest with a hand. "I didn't exactly mean-"
He laughed heartedly, his arm tightening around her waist. She felt her face go white. She wasn't afraid of him, but she was afraid of hurtinghis feelings. She had never expected it to turn around this way!
"Look sweetness, ol' Merle ain't worried bout no damn watch," he said wiggling his brows, "an' I sure as hell ain't worried bout no-" he wiggled his brows again and looked down the length of her body. She couldn't help the disgusted grimace that crossed her face. She couldn't believe what she had gotten herself into. All she wanted was to be a friend to Merle and maybe get a little friendlier with Daryl. And now the damn opposite was happening.
Why was it always the wrong men that she attracted?
His face twisted. "What? Ya ain't fuckin' changin' yer mind are ya?"
She smiled thinly. "Well Merle, I have to admit that you weren't exactly the one I was-" He placed his hand on her leg, and she felt her heart deflate at the hope in his eyes.
"Cos ya know, I ain't that bad. Sure I might a done some stupid shit, an' hell I regret a lot a things." His gaze took on a faraway look, and she felt her heart constrict. She really didn't want to hurt him. But she didn't want him either.
She reached up, placing a hand against his cheek. "Oh Merle, it's not that." And then his eyes lit up, and she was trying to reel back two steps.
"Cos I'm sure lil brother won't mind neither." And that was when she knew she had to put a stop to this. She stood up from his lap, pulling his arm from around her. His lip twitched, and he let her go.
"Merle, I'm flattered you would…" she struggled to find the right words now, and was at a loss. She sighed and gave up. "It's generous of you to offer to fuck me, but I don't love you."
She watched him for a minute as he continued to stare her, his nostrils flaring suddenly. And then a smile slipped passed his lips.
"Merle-" and then he started laughing, bellowing really, clutching at his stomach and doubling over.
"Sweetcheeks ya should see yer face!" She stood there, dumbfounded for a moment. And then it hit her. He was teasing her.
"Merle, dammit, it's not funny!" But she couldn't stop her lips from turning up as she smacked him across the arm. "How dare you!" she reprimanded, mock angrily. It seemed that Merle had a sense of humor about him as well, no matter how ridiculous it might be.
"Goddammit Merle!" someone yelled, storming into the watchtower, and tossing something straight at Merle's head. Carol gasped, her hands covering her mouth in surprise as she watched something yellow fly clear across the room and bounce right off of Merle's head.
"The fuck?" Merle barked back, turning on his heels to glare at Daryl. Daryl who stood there with his shirt partly open and his hair wet. Who looked like he'd just run a few miles, and was pissed as hell.
She bent over to retrieve the item and nearly laughed. It was a rubber duck. Like the one she used to keep around for Sophia when she was just a little girl and she would take a bath.
"The hell's yer problem?" Daryl yelled, stalking toward Merle with a fierce glare in his eye. She didn't think she'd ever seen him look so angry at Merle before.
"My problem?" Merle chuckled in his face which only made Daryl's hands curl into fists and his jaw crack. She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of Daryl throwing a rubber duck at Merle's head but the sudden weight of the situation stopped her.
She and Merle may have been joking but Daryl wasn't aware of that.
"Brother, just havin' a little fun here with Carol," and Merle, damn him, pulled her against his side. She let an exasperated breath escape her.
"She ain't yours to make fun of like that!" She couldn't believe what he'd just said. She watched as Merle's eyes went wide, his grip tightening around her.
"Oh ho little brother. Is she yours then?" Daryl clamped his mouth shut suddenly, his ears tingeing red. He shifted on his feet, looking to the ground.
"I-I didn't mean it like that. Not to C-Carol," he stammered. Merle laughed, and Carol knew she should have stopped Merle from making fun of Daryl like that. But something about the way he said it didn't set right with her. It made her feel pissed now. She knew there was enough between them that something could possibly happen. He didn't have to make it sound like she was an old lady that he'd never be attracted to!
"How did you mean it then?" she asked, surprising herself with the sudden question. Daryl glanced at her then, and she could see his throat bob as he swallowed. His eyes shifted between her and Merle and backed up a step, nervously biting his lip now.
"I meant exactly what I said," he forced, sounding more anxious than he really needed to be. She sighed. Watching him worry over this, and the way he was trying to escape from the watchtower without actually running away headfirst made her feel awful. She should know better than that.
"Well I don't," Merle quipped. She reached out and grabbed Merle's arm, pulling him back a little, shaking her head. Enough was enough.
"Carol don't belong to nobody." Carol couldn't stop herself from looking up at him suddenly, her heart swelling.
And Merle, he just looked Daryl up and down and nodded his head. "Bout damn time brother," he said as he gathered up his rifle and walked away. Carol stood stunned, watching as Merle clapped Daryl on the shoulder and walked out of the watchtower.
There was a moment of awkward silence between the two of them before Daryl approached her hesitantly.
"I told ya he was fuckin' trouble," he remarked absently, rubbing the back of his head.
She just shrugged her shoulders. "I know, but we were just talking. And you know I volunteered to go on watch with him because nobody else wants to." Daryl nodded in understanding. It was hard for some of the others to be around Merle, especially because of his mouth.
"Why'd ya get to talkin' to Merle anyway?" She sighed, knowing it was bound to come up and pulled out the shoebox, watching as his face twisted. He swallowed hard, and went to pull it away from her hands, thought better of it, and turned away from her.
She was going to talk to him about it anyway; now was as good a time as any. "I thought it was yours," she said absently. "Merle found it, and was looking through it when I got up here. I know you said to just keep from talking to him, but I do like him, Daryl." He gave a derisive snort, and she couldn't blame him. The others still hadn't taken to Merle; not like she had.
"And then he started asking questions," she said as she sat down, opening the box. She watched as his eyes went wide and he started chewing on his thumbnail.
"Then he pulled this out," she said and held it up for him to see. She pulled out a doll, the very same that Eliza Morales had given to Sophia. She felt something break inside of her.
He stared at her, unmoving, unchanging. He just stood there.
"And then this," and she pulled out the little gold chain with the cross dangling at the end. The one she had abandoned so long ago in those cold winter months. He still said nothing as she waited for something, anything. She wanted to know why he had them. Why he had kept her things.
"I said they were mine," she said softly. "Because…they were at one point. Daryl, I abandoned these things a long time ago. But now there here." She still waited for him to say something. But he just continued to stare at her, picking at the skin on his fingers, nostrils flaring.
"And then he pulled this out," she said and pulled out a carving of a bird, one wing missing and stained by blood. She marveled at the beauty, turning it over in her hands. There was a craftsmanship there. Someone had put love, and effort, and time into such a thing. But something had happened to it.
"He waved this in my face and said 'what about this?'" And she let it hang there, between them. She didn't know what the bird was, or what it meant. But clearly, Merle had.
"He knew what it was Daryl, and I didn't. He looked sad about it. Sad," she said desperately. She had never heard, seen Merle look so dejected about anything before. "And all I could tell him was that it was mine, that I'd found it and kept it with my other things. And I don't think he believed me, but he let it go." She put the things back into the box, and looked out the window of the watchtower.
Daryl had kept these things for a reason. He'd kept them in a shoebox – something a child would have done, and then stuffed it underneath his bed – but Daryl had kept them. One item that had belonged to her daughter, her Sophia. The other was hers – the necklace she had given up so long ago, along with her faith. She had never thought she would see it again.
And then the bird, which was clearly Daryl's to begin with.
All three of them, tucked neatly away in a box, together, where nothing could touch them. A place that only Daryl had known about. Something that only Daryl had done. She felt her eyes well up with tears.
"I don't know why you have…this," she said, holding out the box between them and letting him take it, "but…I'm glad you do." She felt the tears fall down her cheeks. If there was one person she would want to keep her daughter close to their heart, to keep her close to their heart; it was Daryl.
She felt his fingers brush across her cheek as he wiped at her tears.
She laughed a little and stood up, feeling far too embarrassed for letting herself get emotional. It had been a long time since she had cried in front of Daryl.
"Didn't mean ta keep it from ya," he said softly, avoiding her gaze. "I just…wanted to keep a piece a ya both close to me." And she was going to cry again. The fact that he wanted to keep both Sophia and her close to him, a piece of them with him forever nearly broke her heart.
She inhaled deeply, pulling the tears back. She couldn't dwell on it.
"Why…why are you wet?" She asked curiously, breaking the moment to reach up to brush at his damp hair. She could feel him trying to lean away from her but he never did move his feet.
"I-I was giving Jude a bath," he said quickly, eyes flitting nervously between hers. She could feel her lips tilting up, as she pulled at the collar of his damp shirt that had been hanging open giving her a view of his chest. She could hear his heart beating wildly in his chest now.
She chewed her bottom lip. Maybe it wasn't the right time for it but…"There enough water for another?"
His brows drew down, confused. "No. Just enough for Jude. She practically splashed it all out." She nodded her head as she listened, and then she sighed in disappointment.
"Too bad. We could've had ourselves a bath," she called sweetly over her shoulder as she walked away, swinging her hips just a little.
"Together." She couldn't stop herself from winking as he stood there flushed, and stunned silent. She wasn't blind either; he was definitely staring at her ass.
He licked at his lips, the flush still coloring his face as he took a hesitant step toward her.
"Ya know…" he tried, swallowed, and then seemed to lose his confidence. She wanted him to, whatever it was he was going to do. She wanted it.
"Yeah?" He looked up nervously, and then walked towards her. He reached out to her, but she never took her eyes from his; the blue shining with a haze she'd never seen before. She wasn't going to scare him away now.
She gasped softly as his hand trailed along her stomach and over her ribs, tentatively. He watched his hand intently, his lids lowering. His fingers reaching up to just barely graze beneath her breasts. Her eyes went wide at the boldness of his touch.
He brought his eyes up to meet hers again. And this time, it was her turn to swallow nervously. "You could stay," he whispered hoarsely, his hand curving around to her back, pulling her closer. Her hand fell to rest across his forearm and she could feel his muscles quivering beneath her fingers.
"I could stay," she whispered back. He pulled her against him; against his firm chest where she inhaled the smell of soap, and leather. And where she could feel his body trembling beneath hers.
"I want to stay," she breathed, reaching up to caress his cheek, never looking away from his gaze. Those words must have been enough because one moment she was afraid she hadn't said the right thing, hadn't given him the right signal to move forward.
And the next his lips were crashing into hers with a fervor she'd never thought he was capable of. His hands gripped her hips firmly as their bodies pressed tightly together. He was inexperienced but it didn't matter. He was so eager for her. And that made her want him all the more.
She reached up, sliding her hands across his shoulders, over his neck and through the wisps of hair at his neck, pulling on them gently. He groaned and opened his mouth to hers allowing their tongues to twist together. His hands pulled her closer, melding their hips together, laying his palms against her back and lying just above her ass.
The feel of him pressed hard against her, and his mouth hot on hers, his stubble scratching her cheeks sent a thrilling warmth through her. She had never wanted anything more than this.
Until he pulled away panting, and a quizzical look on his face.
"Why the hell did Merle think ya wanted him, when ya want…me?" The way he said me sent her heart into her throat, and a smile passed her lips. She wanted to show him just how much she wanted him. Not Merle, not anyone else. Just him.
"I told him you were fuckin' majestic." She couldn't help the laugh that escaped her at the look on his face. She just pulled his head back to hers and kissed him.
"He didn't get it either," she murmured against his lips, running a hand across his shoulder under his shirt, sending a shiver through him, "but I set him straight."
She started to unbutton his shirt. "Like I will you," she whispered huskily, licking his collarbone.
His hands didn't waste any time either.
A/N: I had 4,000 words to do this in, with toothbrushes, shoeboxes and rubber ducks, and Caryl, and 'fuckin' majestic deers.' Thus, we have this.
The shoebox: The necklace is my own thing. I firmly believe now, after my fic In His Arms, that Daryl has been holding onto that thing. And the bird - see my fic The Bad, the Ugly and the Dixons Chapter 4 and 30. That bird has so much meaning to me.
Thanks for being here!