Daryl couldn't contain his excitement.
Despite telling his brother otherwise, Daryl had been waiting for this day with a growing nervous anticipation. Hell when Merle called him giddy he hadn't been that far off. The Peletier family was moving in tomorrow. Into the park where he and his brother lived, for the time being. They had actually bought one of Daryl's trailers, an above standard one with two beds and a nice kitchenette, right across from his and Merle's. They seemed like a good family to be neighbors with, though Daryl isn't a fool; he saw the signs of abuse on Mrs. Peletier, he knows he'll have to deal with her husband soon enough. The only problem was trying to resist the urge to resort to violence, he couldn't afford to get arrested, or god forbid bail out Merle again. This had to be a peaceful deliberation, he might even have to stage an intervention with the rest of the 'neighborhood'.
As a child of abuse he felt a sense of responsibility for those trapped in its spiral. He would vehemently defend anyone who he saw was being hurt. Merle had taught him to be a survivor, a man of iron will and a cold heart, to watch out for his and his alone. He had let Merle raise him to believe that family was the most important, and while Daryl recognized hat idea as flawed he did love his brother deeply. He just couldn't let Merle know he felt such a strong sense of protectiveness over the Peletier woman and her daughter. When he met the family a summer prior, as the family came by the park to look into his trailers, he took an immediate, and albeit confusing, liking to Carol. She was a soft spoken woman, long beautiful silver hair despite her age, and gentle doe eyes. Daryl loved listening to her talk, she was slow to come out of her shell, the first time they talked she wouldn't even look him in the eye. He had noticed the bruising around her wrists the afternoon before the family left, but she staunchly told him it was an accident, 'she had fallen'. Which Merle had laughed at, "Sounds like yer woman burned his dinner". Daryl had known what the marks were from the beginning, and Merle had confirmed his suspicion when he met the daughter.
Her daughter was young and curious, freckled and shy. Daryl had forbade Merle from speaking to them, as his older brother had a notorious way of letting his temper take control. To put it lightly Merle had the uncanny ability to insult everyone. The daughter, Sophia, had happened upon Merle while exploring the park one day and much to Daryl's chagrin, the two became thick as thieves. At first Carol was reluctant to let Sophia out of her sight, she was undoubtedly afraid of Merle and his smarmy grins, but Merle was deemed a worthy babysitter when Daryl vouched for him. Merle watched Sophia the whole week the Peletier's were there; they would go hiking and to the playground and he would buy her ice cream as often as he had the money to. Sophia had shown Merle how to paint nails and braid hair and he taught her how to defend herself and spot wild animal tracks. They even had the same favorite sweet, black licorice used as straws in cherry cokes. Daryl still remembers the evenings fondly, he would sit out back with Carol sharing anecdotes about where they grew up, watching the Kentucky sun fall over Cynthiana, as Merle and Sophia would catch lightning bugs. He still pokes fun over Merle's sheepish offer to give Sophia one of the bikes they had in storage. The bikes of course didn't exist, but try to tell Merle he can't do something, especially for that sweet child.
Despite everything, Merle had a soft spot for kids, he always saw himself as a big brother to them, and wanted to protect them, he felt he had an obligation to make some kid's life better after he botched being a big brother to Daryl when they were younger. He knew he was a shit big brother, he left Daryl in the hands of their alcoholic father when he was a little kid and they both had the scars to prove what their dad was capable of. He knew Daryl didn't blame him for anything, but Merle had, for the longest time felt ashamed at how deplorable he was. He knew he was too far into drugs, selling speed was one thing, but taking it was a whole different thing. If he couldn't make up for Daryl's lost childhood he would try to give some other child one. And Sophia was no exception, Merle probably felt a stronger desire to protect her because of the abusive household she was growing up in. If he knew anything he knew that if a child was raised in that environment, they become products of that influence; they either grow up to be violent and disillusioned about their own self worth, or isolated and dissatisfied with life. Painful scenarios and horrible lives either way.
Luckily enough for Sophia, she showed no signs of being abused herself, her mother was taking the brunt of it, but both Dixon brothers knew it was only a matter of time.
Daryl hadn't actually met Ed Peletier, neither brother had, though they both knew what he was doing to his wife and had pretty good ideas what kind of man he was. Ed had sent Carol to negotiate the price and move in day while he spent all week at the local pub, drinking and gamboling, or that's what Merle told him. While Merle had promised not to interact with the man he couldn't just stand by while Sophia's father wandered around his town.
Both brothers had been mentally preparing for their new neighbors; Daryl had looked up ways to confront abusers (of course without telling Merle). And Merle had bought a road bike for Sophia, one with detachable training wheels (and like his brother, Merle hadn't told Daryl about this).
For months after the family left Daryl had exchanged letters with Carol, usually under the guise of sending reports if the trailers care, but he wanted to be more acquainted with her before they became neighbors. He could be cold and unwelcoming even to those he cared about, and he wanted her to understand this about him, to spare her feelings.
Every few days there'd be a new one; a long painfully handwritten letter for Daryl, telling him about the family's everyday life. And a drawing from Sophia for Merle. Daryl hardly understood it but that family had changed him and his brother in the short span of a week. He felt himself wanting to reach out so to know her better, know her favorite books and movies and what the sunset made her think about. It took her two months to open up about Ed, how he was to her and Sophia. Daryl was furious as he read her letter, she was defending him, talking about he had been so charming when they first started dating and that it was the stress of domestic life that corrupted him. She didn't say exactly that she found fault with herself but it was implied by the apologetic tone she adopted when she told Daryl about her husband's temper. It wasn't fair, and while he knew it would do no good he felt such a rage, at Carol and at Ed. How could she be so blind as to ignore and defend the man who hit her in front of her child? Din't she care about Sophia growing up to be independent and fearless? Did Carol want her daughter to grow up being afraid of disappointing men? And what kind of man took his anger out on another person, especially the woman who had agreed to live her life with him and go through the pain of childbirth for him? It was sick. And while he was disappointed in Carol's dependence on Ed, he understood it and did not blame her. He just wanted to be help her, to be her friend, for her to trust him. To protect each other. He wasn't sure if he was feeling a sexual or romantic or purely platonic desire to be near her, but he could not bear to be far from her. He would do anything to be her shield. He began subconsciously planning his days around the mailman's schedule. Though he adamantly refused this accusation from Merle.
Then one day the letters stopped coming. At first Daryl just assumed there was a storm that was preventing him from getting it, but as days turned to weeks without a word from her he feared the worst. Maybe Ed had found out that she had told him about the abuse, and was punishing her. Daryl felt sick to his stomach picturing Ed's fat sweaty palms touching her, hitting her and making her cry. That fury fueled his hunt, he had stopped going out and practicing ever since he started corresponding with Carol, he didn't want to miss the mailman and her letters. But without her to occupy his life so strongly he reverted back to old ways, disappearing into the woods for days at a time and getting high with Merle out of desperation.
As worried as he was though, his pride wouldn't let him reach out and inquire about what he had done. Instead he would write to her formally, addressed to the whole family, about the logistics of their new home. They had already paid three months rent in advance, but he had to come up with some, any excuse to try and talk to her. To try and hear from her. It was infuriating how this woman could leave him so devastated, it made him vulnerable. Weak.
The day the Peletier's were scheduled to move in came and went.
Daryl stayed inside his trailer all day, pretending to read or watch tv but his focus was on any movement outside. Next door to his right, Merle was lounging on a plastic pool chair in his "front yard", the perfect image of redneck hick with his wife beater, aviators, cigarettes, and brown bag beer. But he sat with his feet on a large and long brown box (the bike he had wrapped up special but still had to make it look nonchalant). Both brothers waited and waited, but aside from the other people who lived in the park, no one came. It would have unsettled atone else but to the Dixon brothers it just pissed them off; neither were accustomed to being made to wait.
Frustrated at their disappointment both Dixons retired to Daryl's trailer to relax, unwind, and vent. They got drank long into the night, and as tired as he was, Daryl couldn't seem to find it in him to sleep. He was wrought with worry. What is Carol was hurt somewhere, what if this was a test to see if he did care for her? There were too many "What if"'s for him to bear. Paranoia was upsetting his stomach so he detached himself from the couch where Merle was nursing a beer and stumbled over the the kitchenette sink. The water was cold and stung his eyes, sensitive and red from Merle's pot. Daryl had been to anxious about the 'what if's to smoke with his brother, but Merle had insisted on keeping the windows and door closed when he smoke, secretly Merle still hoped for the family to arrive and didn't want Sophia exposed to the harsh smell. Essentially they hot boxed Daryl's trailer. But Daryl's anxiety and the grass didn't mesh well and he was starting to feel the pot affect his body, the beers certainty didn't help either. He was standing hunched over the sink when he thought he saw a shadow cross over to the trailer that would have been Carol's. It hurt his heart to imagine Carol living so close, he would see her everyday. Or he would have. He tried to imagine the shadow would have been Carol, coming home late from a movie or something, but as soon as his eyes adjusted to the dark he lost it. Just a figment of his uneasy stoner mind.
No there was something definitely out there. This time he was sure of it! A light flickered behind one of the windows, the blinds drawn to protect the furniture inside from fading. But there was definitely something, someone more likely, in there.
"Fuck that," All the concern was gone in a flash, replaced by a quick white hot rage. Someone was inside Carol's house.
"Fuck that!" He said again, Daryl's knuckles white as he gripped the sink's edge.
"Mmh? The fuck you sayin'?" Merle cocked his head at his little brother, his elbow bent over his chest, a cold one numbing his fingers, his other arm draped over the arm of the couch. He was comfortable, more at ease on Daryl's loveseat than in his own bed. But his brother wasn't responding, just looking outside, with that glare of his no doubt. Merle was going to ask again what the fuck was buggin his brother, when Daryl pushed off the sink counter and clumsily stomped towards the door, only to trip over Merle's boots and fumble with the lock.
"Ey? Daryl whatcha doin'?" He would have gotten up to see for himself what had riled his brother up so much, but his body was feeling heavy, a winning combination of too much pot and not enough beer.
Daryl ignored his brother's protests as he staggered across the pathway to Carol's trailer. Their doors matched up perfectly it was only approximately 4 yards from his front door to hers. But it seemed so much farther as he teetered up to the door, his stomach doing summersaults.
"Hey! I saw ya! Whatcha doin' in there? Come on–hic–out," He had meant to bang on the door but after one aggressive knock he had to catch his breath, fuck he wasn't feeling too hot. It would be a shit show if it came down to a fight.
But he heard light, reluctant footsteps, whoever it was didn't want any more trouble than he did it seemed.
His head against the cold metal of the door, he half fell as it was yanked open. He squinted his eyes up at the light from inside, annoyed that this person had surprised him. He couldn't have been more surprised.
She was staring at him, her face half hidden by the door, her hair was the same silver grey but where it had been long and wavy months prior, it was now short and stocky. Even her eyes were different, beautiful and big and blue but the gentleness was gone from them. They looked colder than before, some of the light gone from behind them. And she was so thin, her cheeks were taunt and prominent, her eyes sunken, she looked so haggard and emancipated it made Daryl sick. Or something did. Something about all the booze and pot and her being there made him sick. Physically.
He tried to straighten up, and smile at her but he was choking back heaves. With a cringe and a slanted smile he looked up at her, and managed, "Hiya Carol,", before throwing up all over her shoes and new house's front door.