This is starts at the end of Season 3 and continues onwards. Mostly follows the show, some deaths are changed, some new characters, at times events are in a different order. This is told from a Carol, Daryl point of view – it is Caryl (Caryl is endgame), although many other characters appear. I hope to have some angst in regards to Daryl having some competition for Carol's affections – I don't see why she wouldn't have other suitors – she is by far the best character in the show. There will be plot-twists and changing of some storylines. This will be a slow burner.
I apologise, but I feel this may be a long one. I am new to this, so sorry if it isn't so good (Be gentle with me) Also, the timescale and seasons during which the action takes place may not be factually accurate. I do not own the rights to The Walking Dead, nor any of its characters.
Chapter 1 – Her.
It was actually almost silent for once. Daryl savoured it as if it was a Snickers bar. He lay on his back in his bed in the cell he'd only recently claimed as his own. It still felt odd, voluntarily sleeping in a cage, even if it was unlocked, but the world was odd now. He closed his eyes, it must have been very early hours and still dark outside. The dark was that all consuming black, when it envelops you and everything else; it swallows all other sounds. Like a black hole maybe. He could only hear his own thoughts. He hated dwelling on his thoughts, especially as lately they always drifted her way.
Why?
Why did he have to feel a connection to her from the moment they were introduced back at that first camp? When Merle was turning on his particular charm so they could eventually rob them blind, why was Daryl noticing a timid, mouse-like married woman. A woman who tried her best to hide in plain sight? When they were staking the place out, he'd assumed she was old, her almost buzz cut greying hair and frumpy, shapeless clothes.
Up close, she was beautiful, younger, softer somehow. Her voice was gentle, and she was like him, she didn't waste words, although she probably wasn't allowed to speak unless spoken to before the world ended.
It was apparent to everyone that her big, bad wolf of a husband liked to lay hands on her. Ed Peletier was under the impression all men got handy with their fists on the ones they "loved". Obviously Daryl had been on the receiving of such treatment while growing up. He knew what type of man Ed was and it infuriated him right from the beginning. It festered and grew and observed the situation whenever he could, half hoping to catch Ed in the act so he could give him a taste of his own medicine.
Daryl didn't like thinking much about those days; his brother ended up chained to a pipe on the roof of a building before sawing his own hand off. They suffered losses at the camp after a walker attack whilst he, Rick, Glenn and T-Dog were trying to locate his sorry ass sibling. The only good loss after that attack was bully boy Ed getting his just deserts.
Daryl sighed. Remembered the moment he really noticed Carol Peletier. She was bashing dead Ed's brains in with a pick axe whilst crying. At first, Daryl had been almost mad; why was she crying over that prick? He beat her, he humiliated her, probably told her she was worthless and unattractive. Then he realised they were more like tears of relief. Daryl had no doubt Carol took the beatings to protect Sophia. The girl was gentle and quiet like her mother but she too, had a spark of something about her that Ed could not diminish. Carol seemed to try her best to keep Sophia out of her father's path.
That moment, watching the pick-axe demolish the ogre's skull, he noticed the woman's inner strength shining through.
Now look at him.
Lying in his bed staring at the bunk above him like some teenager with a crush. Thinking of times they'd spent together, him struggling against his inner voice. It screamed at him to make a move. He just couldn't. It was like being on the highest diving board at the pool, working up the courage to jump off. He would build it up and take a deep breath, he'd go find her. She'd smile that twinkly smile at him when he did and another internal voice would whisper "You're not good enough for her". The flicker of courage would extinguish itself and he remained in this state of uncertainty. Unsure, because, he suspected she was aware of his feelings. She flirted with him often enough, if she knew how he felt, why didn't she act on it? She mustn't feel the same. Well, he wasn't sure if it was flirting or if it was just friendly teasing because she always laughed or chuckled at the end. He always got flustered and awkward and words failed him. So he'd make some random noise and run away. He was such an idiot. At times, he wished he could be more like Shane.
Shane Walsh had been Rick Grimes' best friend. Sure, he screwed Rick's wife, got her pregnant and lost his mind (and consequently his life) but Daryl always got the impression that Shane knew how to sweet talk a lady. He must have had some gift to get Lori "frosty knickers" Grimes into the sack. Even damn Merle, obnoxious, racist, drug addled Merle could have his way with women.
Daryl knew the others noticed him observing her. He couldn't help it. She was a pull for him. If they were in a crowed place together, he always looked for her. Plus, there were far more people at the prison now, after they took in those abandoned by The Governor at Woodbury. He worried someone new would catch her eye if they continued taking groups in. The others had taken to immediately informing him of her whereabouts whenever he returned from a run or a hunt because once he'd unloaded his haul, the first words out of his mouth would always be; "Where's Carol?". Council meetings were both his favourite time of the week and most torturous. He stared at her whenever she had the floor, and those times she didn't. Everyone paid attention too, but he didn't think they watched her mouth, her lips, her eyes. Once, he had chewed his lip while she was talking and accidentally caught Hershel's eye. The old man winked at him and raised his eyebrows. Hershel had also once caught him staring at her after Dale's funeral back at the farm. Remembering all the times the others had noticed his behaviour embarrassed him but back then, he'd been more concerned about her emotional state after Sophia's death.
Sophia.
Daryl could feel his cheeks heating up in the dark, which was now less stifling. Damn feelings. He sighed again. He'd decided last night to carry on being rough redneck Daryl, who growled at most people, ate raw meat and carried a crossbow. He'd try to forget how he really felt like he'd had to most of his life. He had buried his feelings of inadequacy, his fear of never being loved, of never having a family and only now had he discovered that having feelings for someone should also buried. No way was he going to open up and allow the possibility of being hurt in. Look at Rick. He was so messed up by love and betrayal that he was close to losing his damn mind.
"Nah" Daryl muttered to himself as he sat up punched his pillow into a more comfortable position.. Not him. Not risking anything unless he got a clear, unambiguous sign that she felt something more than friendship for him. She worried about him on runs, she had once told him she 'couldn't lose' him but maybe she felt the same about Rick, their leader or Glenn, everyone's favourite walker-bait. That's what he told himself, he couldn't let himself hope that he was special to her.
He did have something she had said to him imprinted into his brain though. After they lost the farm and he had saved her from the Walkers on his bike, they had to make a camp in the roadside. Rick was emotional and angry after having to kill Shane and most of the group had a fear in their eyes. Carol had voiced her concerns to him and Daryl had asked her what she wanted. "A man of honour" was her reply.
So he had tried to be that man, to forget his worthless life before, and he would do his damn best to start over as a good man. Then maybe, one day, she'd realise that her man of honour had been around the whole time. He knew what honour was and he was pretty sure such men didn't go discussing their thoughts and feelings with someone they thought they loved until they were sure they'd won her heart. He had to be careful and mindful of her.
She had already suffered the greatest loss, that of her girl, would she ever even risk getting close to anyone in this world? It was an endless, exhausting circle he navigated in his mind most nights; tell her, talk it through with someone, engineer some way to spend time alone with her, forget her, kiss her….
Sighing again he turned onto his side and closed his eyes. His brain hurt from analysing these feelings. His mind's eye pictured her face in profile, the wind blowing from behind her. A Cherokee Rose (her flower) tucked behind her ear, her blue eyes twinkled as his imagination had her turn his way. That was when a baby's hungry cry pierced the air and Daryl knew he'd get no reprieve before sunrise. He sighed again and swung his legs off the bunk.