Title: "Dreamless Sleep"
Challenge: CARYL Secret Santa 2014
Author: Green Owl
Word Count: 1,800+
Pairing: Daryl Dixon + Carol Peletier
Rating: T (They have the sex talk. Finally.)
Timeline: Christmas Eve, Season Five
Summary: The Atlanta Quarry Group winters on the shores of Lake Lanier.
Author Notes: For Queen McBride, who loves Carol, Daryl, Game of Thrones, and M&Ms. Merry Christmas, my dear!
Disclaimer: I don't own or buy/sell/process this mind crack – I just abuse the hell out of it.
"Awkward" didn't begin to describe the circumstances that led up to the first night they spent together.
What was really funny was that it didn't seem awkward to either one of them.
No, it was Glenn that stumbled over his words, trying to explain why they had been assigned a bedroom together in the enormous vacation home on the shores of Lake Lanier where they had chosen to spend part of the winter.
To his credit, Glenn attempted to be matter-of-fact as he gave them their sleeping arrangements. "Me and Maggie got the blue bedroom, Abraham and Rosita got the pink one, Michonne and Sasha are in the yellow one –"
"So we're in the living room?" Daryl interrupted.
Carol marveled as Glenn somehow managed to achieve a deeper shade of red than he had turned that last night in the CDC when he was halfway into a bottle of merlot.
He glanced from her to Daryl. "Well, actually, we thought –"
"Y'all thought what?" Daryl demanded, his body bristling with impatient energy.
"Sorry, dude, but Eugene and I have the living room," Tara piped up as she placed more wood on the stack next to the fire.
"We are on first watch," Eugene clarified as he placed more wood on the pile. "To be perfectly clear, we are not an item. She finds me unattractive due to my gender and my past indiscretions."
"You forgot my aversion to Tennessee tophats," Tara said in a droll tone as she patted Eugene's shoulder on her way out to get more wood.
"Are you saying you would not countenance a ladyfriend who had a mullet?" he inquired as he followed her.
"Ew, no!" Tara's voice carried as the door shut behind them.
"So," Carol said, directing her attention to Glenn. "The family room?"
"That's Rick, Carl, and Judith," Glenn replied.
"Dining room?" Daryl asked.
"Tyreese and I got that," Father Gabriel said, brushing past them with an armload of blankets.
"Kitchen it is," Daryl shrugged, placing his crossbow on the breakfast bar.
"You won't get any sleep on this floor," Rosita observed.
"Sleep's overrated," Michonne countered.
"There's one bedroom left!" Glenn blurted out.
Daryl paused in the act of setting down his backpack, and all chatter in the house stopped.
There was silence for a good long minute as no one moved.
It was broken by the sound of the door opening.
"No, I don't like short hair," Tara explained as she stepped back inside, arms laden.
Eugene was right behind her, similarly burdened. "But I thought ladies of your persuasion were attracted to women with shorn tresses."
"Some are, I'm not –"
Carol could almost imagine the look on Tara's face as she heard the young woman stop short.
And there was Eugene, close behind, as he closed the door, shutting out the cold December wind.
Even better.
Carol bit the inside of her lip as she looked at the others.
Father Gabriel and Rosita looked confused, Glenn looked at the floor, and Michonne looked downright delighted.
Carol hazarded a glance at Daryl.
He surprised her as he met her gaze with an inscrutable expression.
Carol stifled a smile as she heard Eugene stage-whisper to Tara, "I do not understand what is going on."
"Shhh!" Tara hissed, elbowing her watch partner.
"We'll take it," Carol replied, her eyes serene as she turned to Glenn.
She had never seen him fresh out of the shower.
Considering the state of the world, it was one of the last things she'd ever expected to see.
What a beautiful man, she thought, covertly admiring the lean grace of his body as he rubbed the towel against his hair.
"Goddamn, I needed that," he muttered as he slung the towel around his neck and looked around. "The fuck is this room?"
"My best guess is the master bedroom." She put the enormous fantasy paperback book she'd been reading down beside the candle on the bedside table.
"I thought Glenn an' Maggie woulda taken it."
"This is where they put us," Carol replied, gesturing at the space.
He fidgeted, looking everywhere but at her in the king-sized bed. "So, I guess I'll take the floor?"
"Don't be silly. There's plenty of room."
"Ya sure?"
An inappropriate remark bubbled up to her lips, but she simply said, "Yes."
The bed dipped and his flannel sleep pants stuck to the flannel sheets as he slid in.
"Like Velcro," he muttered as he tried to push the fabric into its proper place.
"Like heaven," she replied, turning off the lamp before turning on to her side.
He rolled at the same time and their hands landed next to each other, the edges of their pinky fingers making contact as they settled into place.
"Hi," she whispered.
She expected he would bolt.
She hoped he would stay.
He surprised her when he smiled and whispered back, "Hi."
"How did you find this place?" she asked.
"Saw the solar panels and figured we'd give it a shot. Got lucky with the water heater and the well and the food."
"It's a Christmas miracle," she said, linking her pinky with his and squeezing gently as she thought of the fresh water and well-stocked pantry they had discovered.
"Christmas already?"
"Tomorrow, I think."
"Shit."
"What?"
"I didn't get ya anything."
"I didn't know you'd picked me in the Secret Santa."
"Smartass."
She grinned. "You got me plenty."
"Yeah? Like what?" he challenged.
She pretended to think for a moment. "The first hot shower I've had in years. Likewise, a good night's sleep in a real bed. Oh, yes, an entire bag of M&Ms, all to myself. Well done, Dixon."
He grinned and ducked his head for a moment, but his hand stayed where it was.
She smiled, trying to mask a shiver. They were conserving energy by keeping the heat on low. It was luxury next to camping outside, but still a bit chilly.
"Cold?" he asked, catching sight of her involuntary trembling.
"Yes," she admitted. "Do you mind?"
"Come 'ere," he said, tugging on her pinky finger.
She shifted across the cool expanse of the sheets until she found him. Her hands were clumsy and his were cautious as they maneuvered their bodies into a comfortable drape. It would have been comical if it hadn't been so raw and careful.
They ended up with him on his back, her on her right side, her cheek nestled in the hollow of his shoulder, his left arm curved around her shoulders.
"Your feet are cold."
"Sorry!"
"I don't mind."
"Oh."
"Bring 'em on back over here," he urged, hugging her a bit.
She straightened her legs and rested her feet against his shins.
"There ya go," he purred, rubbing his hand up and down her upper arm.
"Sometimes I think I forgot what it's like to be warm."
"Yeah, been pretty cold these last few days."
She squirmed a bit, trying to find the right place to put her legs.
"May I….?"
"Go right ahead."
Her left leg slipped between his and they settled even further into each other.
"Wow, you're so cozy. Wish I'd known sooner."
"How's that?"
"We'd have done this a long time ago," she teased, nuzzling his shoulder with her cheek as the first hints of dreamless sleep stole over her limbs.
He froze, abruptly mute and motionless next to her.
Suddenly she was wide awake and wondering if she'd just screwed up everything.
He took a deep breath and she heard him swallow.
"That book I got…" he started.
She knew exactly to what he was referring. "Yes?"
"It says I should reach out to other people, tell 'em how I feel."
She didn't say anything as she gingerly placed her left hand on his ribcage.
His right hand came up to rest atop her left. "I thought I could handle this, but I'm fuckin' terrified right now."
"Do you want me to leave?" she asked gently. "Sleep somewhere else?"
"No!" His hands tightened around her for a moment, then suddenly relaxed. "Shit, fucked that up. Ya wanna leave, don't ya?"
She snuggled deeper into him. "I'm not going anywhere."
"I just…never thought we'd do this. Well, I thought 'bout it. A lot, in fact. But I never thought we'd actually, y' know, do it."
"What's that?" she asked.
"Sleep together," he admitted.
"As in "sleeping" sleep, or….?"
"I wanna fuck ya" he blurted out, then immediately began backpedaling. "Goddamnit! I didn't mean it like that! I meant – Jesus, can't do anythin' right!"
It was her turn to be silent.
His voice was strained as his arms cradled her. "Carol?"
"I'm still here," she replied.
"I'm so sorry," he apologized.
"For what?"
"For bein' a pig," he said. "Yer jes tryin ta get warm and here I am, thinkin' 'bout ya nekkid and wantin' ta….ta…."
"Screw around?" she suggested with none of her usual sass.
"Yeah."
She would have giggled at how miserable the word sounded except that he was being vulnerable with her and her heart was blocking the laughter from escaping from her throat.
"I like ya," he said, the words hesitant and choked. "Always have. Even when I was nothin', ya treated me like I was somethin'. Like I mattered. That's real to me. Made me think mebbe ya liked me back. Then I thought mebbe I'm dreamin' 'cause that's who ya are to everyone. An' if that's the case an' ya ain't interested, I won't say 'nother word 'bout it ever 'gain. But since it's Christmas…an' the end o' the world, figured I owed it to myself to tell ya how I feel."
It was the most she'd ever heard him say to anyone.
She knew he was talking from his heart because his drawl had become even more pronounced than it was when he was angry.
"Carol," he pleaded. "Say somethin'."
She turned her face up to his, resting the tip of her nose against his cheek.
"Wish I'd known sooner," she murmured against the corner of his mouth.
It was his turn to be silent.
She knew he'd always understood actions better than words, so she moved her left hand lower down on his torso.
He sucked in a sharp breath. "We'd have done this a long time ago?"
"Wait, I just remembered something," she said, her hand stilling after a moment.
"Jesus fuck, what?" he demanded, panting against her cheek.
"I forgot to get you something for Christmas," she teased.
"What you're doin' right now is makin' this the best Christmas ever," he replied, deadly serious.
"Oh, I think we can do better than this," she said.
"Woman, we ain't gonna get a good night's sleep in this here bed, if'n we do 'better' than this," he gasped as the candle went out.
She shrugged delicately as silent starlight flowed into the darkened room. "Sleep's overrated."
"Damn straight," he agreed, all awkwardness gone as he kissed her. "Merry Christmas, baby."