This is my first attempt at a Caryl fic. Feedback is greatly appreciated and if you have any cool ideas you might like to see happen along the way feel free to message me. The story is rated M for content to come in future chapters :)
Daryl closed his eyes tight and groaned. "I'm coming with you today" was all she had said as she climbed on the back of his bike, only seconds before they had left. And now here they were an hour later, separated from the group, a flat tire, miles from the prison, and Carol was singing.
He felt a grin creeping on to his face and quickly replaced it with a scowl. He could hardly blame her for the massive group of walkers who forced them to split from Glenn, Rick, and Michonne, or the rough terrain that eventually destroyed the bike tire, but dammit why did she have to be so happy and positive all the time?
It could take days to walk back to the prison and god knows how many packs of walkers they could encounter on the way. Ordinarily he would be ready to kick the shit out of a thousand walkers if he had to but it was different this time. She was here. He had to keep her safe. Period. He almost lost her once and Daryl was damned if that was going to happen again.
Her soft voice caught his attention humming a catchy tune he had never heard before and he almost turned around. He remembered just in time why he had his back to her to begin with. They had found a cottage a mile or so off the trail they had been riding down. It was in surprisingly great shape inside, obviously no one else had discovered it yet. While Daryl was inside scrounging anything he could find of use, Carol had found a well built rain barrel shower outside. With the all the new people from Woodbury at the prison they didn't get to shower nearly as often as they had become accustomed to. So when Daryl found soap, shampoo, and conditioner inside it had sealed the deal.
Daryl thought it was a huge waste of time to shower but it was getting dark already and it only made sense for them to stay the night at the cottage so here he was watching for walkers while Carol stood naked behind him enjoying the luxury of soap, shampoo, and slightly warm water.
"I'm almost done so there should be plenty of water left for you," she said brightly.
Daryl grumbled something incoherent in response. He really didn't want to shower but his hair was matted with blood and small chunks of a Walker that had got too close earlier. Carol interrupted his thoughts appearing in front of him wrapped in one of the towels they had found inside. She smiled at him, oblivious to his bad mood as usual, "don't worry, I won't peek."
He gave her a non- menacing glare and moved towards the shower peeling off clothes as she turned away. Daryl added his filthy clothing to the pile of hers on the ground. There were clean clothes in the cottage too that would have to do until theirs could be washed back at the prison.
Daryl pulled the cord and lukewarm water began to sprinkle down on him. It felt surprisingly good and he grudgingly admitted to himself that perhaps it wasn't a complete waste of time. He opened his eyes to reach for the shampoo and caught a glimpse of Carol adjusting her towel. He felt a slight stirring low in his belly as he stared at her bare back and shoulders. She didn't drop it low enough for him to see anything else but he stood there staring for a moment longer wishing for a gust of wind to blow the towel away.
Suddenly aware of some slight action down south he tore his gaze away and scalded himself silently, "stare much longer and you aren't going to be able to hide that with a towel you idiot." He finished showering quickly, thinking about walkers, blood, and death to try and keep Mr. happy from embarrassing him.
Satisfied, Daryl grabbed the towel she had left him and dried himself off then securely fastened it around his waist. He looked down at his bare chest and suddenly became aware of the scars on his back. Carol had seen them briefly before but he preferred to keep them completely hidden, just like he preferred never to speak of where they came from. He went to reach for a shirt out of the dirty pile when Carol touched his shoulder. He jumped reflexively in response and glared at her, "what the hell?"
Her eyes were soft and warm, "it's okay, I have some too." Her understanding and empathy were so evident he dropped the shirt and nodded slowly. She made no attempt to look him over, but simply turned and started to walk towards the cabin, "lets go find something to wear and finish searching inside."
Sometime later they were both dressed in AC/DC t-shirts and Adidas sweatpants. The owner of the cabin apparently did not believe in much variety of their wardrobe. Carol looked like a child wearing their parents clothing with the sweatpants rolled at the waist and the baggy tshirt tied on the side. But somehow she still pulled it off in a way that left Daryl gazing a little too long at times.
"Ok. I've had enough, sit down," Carol demanded pointing at the couch. Daryl was pretty sure she caught him staring at her so his face flushed slightly as he paid heed to her demand. She stood over him and began speaking in a tone that he had seldom heard from her, "what exactly is your problem? I know you aren't much of a talker but you have literally said barely 5 words to me since I climbed on the back of your motorcycle this morning! And every few minutes I catch you glaring at me too!"
Daryl fought hard to keep the amused look off his face, "she thought I was glaring at her!"
Obviously he hadn't tried hard enough. "What is so funny?" She demanded. Even though she was trying to remain focused and in charge he could tell she was wavering.
"Nothin'," he started, "it's just that you ain't never used that 'mama knows best' tone with me before."
Carol couldn't help but smile, "Well if I ever thought in a million years you might actually sit there and listen I would have tried it sooner."
She sighed and sat down beside him. "You know that none of this is my fault right?" He nodded and she continued. "You guys have been going on runs almost every day. I know we all have our own ways of contributing but..." Her voice trailed off. "But you and Rick, Michonne, and even Carl... You get to be the heroes every time you come home with food and clothes and all the stuff we need." She paused and looked at him, "I just wanted to know what that feels like. That's why I wanted to come."
"But you didn't even ask, you just showed up and forced me to take you," he shot back, a little edgier than he meant to.
Her eyes narrowed, "And if I had of came to you and asked? What would you have said?"
"Hell no!" He stood up and faced her, the words came out quickly before he could take them back, "Carol you were dead. I had to go on knowing you were gone forever. And then there you were, alive, and back in my life. And then I finally get my brother back and next thing I know he's gone!" He stopped for a breath, "I can't do it again. The prison is safe. Out here, you never know what can happen... or if you're coming back."
His words lingered in the air and Carol looked him straight in the eye, "And how do you think that makes me feel every time you take off on that damn bike?" She wasn't looking for an answer, it was a statement he heard loud and clear.
He broke the awkward silence, "come on, you know I don't do this girly sentimental crap." Carol rolled her eyes as he continued. "I go on runs and you stay at the prison. That's how it's going to be from now on. Understood?"
He was expecting a fight and was surprised when she nodded. "For now," she resigned. And he was satisfied.
"Good. Now lets loot this place before its too dark."
God he was frustrating sometimes but it was all part of the overall charm of Daryl Dixon. He certainly wasn't someone most people would think of as charming but she did. He was gentle with her now and even when he was grumpy or down right angry with her she was never scared.
Carol knew what it was like to be scared of a man and she also knew she would never have to be scared of Daryl. Carol knew she could protect herself now and she also knew that deep down Daryl knew that too but she had to admit that it felt really good to know he would always protect her. He made her feel safe and that was something rare in her life.
She certainly hadn't planned for this opportunity to be completely alone with Daryl but she wasn't going to let it go to waste either. Somehow, she was going to make him talk tonight, whether he liked it or not!
Carol needed to know what they were and she planned on finding out sooner rather than later. She really wasn't even clear on her own feelings. The only thing she knew was that he was the best friend she had ever had and she loved him.
But exactly what kind of love it was she was still unsure. At times he was her buddy, someone to tease and laugh with. Other times he was her protector and brought about the feeling of safety she craved. But the confusion started more recently when Carol would find herself watching him talk to other women and feel that angry stab of jealousy. It was so bad that the green eyed monster appeared even when Daryl would talk with Maggie. Maggie, who was head over heels in love with Glenn!
When she told him earlier that she had wanted to know what it felt like to be the hero that was only a tiny part of why she jumped on his bike. What she really wanted was to spend an entire day with him. It had been a long time since they had spend more than an hour or so together. There was always so much to be done and they were continuously pulled in different directions. And now here they were alone in a cabin for the night with a two day walk back to the prison.
Carol smiled to herself and glanced over at Daryl who was looking through the last of the cupboards, "I'm going to find out how you feel and figure out what is going on in my mind too."
She was brought out of her thoughts by an exclamation of glee from Daryl. The first she had heard from him in days. "Score!" he laughed and held up a quarter bottle of crown royal. "It's not much but we could get a buzz going at least."
She returned the grin, walked over, grabbed the bottle and took a swig. The liquor burned as it found its way down to her belly. But it tasted good. Really good. She downed another quick sip before passing it back to him.
He looked amused as he took his own long drink. "I didn't take you for a whiskey girl, Peletier," he said as he finished the drink and set the bottle down on the counter.
"There's a lot you don't know about me," she said coyly.
Carol grabbed a deck of playing cards off the kitchen table and lit the oil lamp they had found, "come sit down. You play poker right?"
Daryl grabbed the whiskey and followed her to the couch. "Yes, but I ain't strippin if I lose."
She laughed, "nah, that's way too cliche. A couple get stranded alone in a cabin with a bottle of whiskey and start playing strip poker? I'm pretty sure I saw that on an episode of Days of our Lives once." She looked at him as he sat down on the couch facing her, "but there is a penalty if you lose."
She pulled out the cards and shuffled them expertly. "If I win you have to answer my questions."
Daryl took another drink of whiskey, feeling a bit fuzzy already and wondering when he had become such a cheap drunk, "And what happens when I win? You strip?"
"Sure," she replied easily. "Because I don't plan on losing."