AUTHOR NOTE: - This is my very first TWD Fanfic! I am new at writing these so please excuse the few odd line breaks and I can definitely say I like writing between third and first person views. Please read and positively review! :) Enjoy the Caryl Ship!

"GHOSTS THAT WE KNEW"
Chapter One - "A Strange Encounter"

I could feel blood pouring down my dirty arm flowing towards my fingers and gravitating towards the greasy floor in the shop. "Damn…" I muttered with disgust. I had just ripped my entire length of my forearm pretty deep. Nothing life threatening but now the blood was getting all over my white t-shirt under my overalls. I dropped the wrench I had in my right hand and made my way towards the office attached to the front of "Dean's Mechanic Shop".

I sauntered in the small little waiting room up to the front desk where a pretty little lady with short gray hair was typing on a keyboard. She looked up in panic as she saw me standing there, and then gasped as she saw the obvious wound dripping on the tiled floor. She stood up with her hand across her mouth, just dumbfounded, not moving to help or anything. The look on her face, that pity, only pissed me off even more.

"What the hell are you doin' starin' there?! Git me something to clean up this damn mess up woman!" I barked in her face.

She, with a look of shame, scurried to the office closet and dug out a roll of paper towel, peroxide, some rags and the first aid kit. She sure straightened up fast, that little mouse. "Here," she almost whispered, like her words were even unsure of themselves.

"Could you pull the top of your overalls down so I can clean the wound?"

I nodded with a grunt and pulled my right arm out of its sleeve then carefully worked off the left side, which was now soaking with my blood. She let out another quieter gasp as she saw how huge the gash was. "It really looks like it needs stiches…" she muttered, and then looked up into my eyes.

"I could drive you to the hospital?" she started to offer but I interrupted "Ugh… No… I hate effing hospitals." "Okay then, well I could stich it up for you right here if you'd like?" she asked, feet shifting with nervousness. I scoffed "Yeah right, a little office gal like you wouldn't even begin to handle sumthin' like tha…" She cut me off with a curt shake of her head. "Just trust me," she placed a soft hand on my good arm's shoulder as she made that strong eye contact again. "I have plenty of experience." She assured.

Well I was fresh out of options anyways; no way was I going to go into a hospital for a stupid gash in my arm. I grunted in agreement with a nod. "As lon' as you go do me one quick favor firs'." I dug in my right pocket for my small set of keys and tossed them to her. "Go git me my damn whiskey out of my truck." She nodded with a smile and the tiniest of laughs as she walked out the front door.

I couldn't help but let out a small smile to myself as I watched the little mouse walk away.

I couldn't help but laugh at the cute, gruff redneck mechanic trusting me to perform such a task; even though I had to brush off his blatant rudeness earlier. I caught his dirty set of keys and walked out the front door towards the shop's large parking lot.
I scanned the parking lot and spotted a few nice, newer trucks, and then I saw a beat up old Ford pickup in the far corner of the parking lot with a bumper sticker that read "Keep Honking… I'm Reloading." "That has to be it." I thought to myself with another smile.

I peered in the rear and spotted a faded black crossbow with a few orange tipped arrows scattered throughout the truck bed. "Redneck for sure…" I muttered out loud and shook my head. I found the cab's key on the ring and slowly unlocked the passenger door, the cab was fairly empty, just a few takeout boxes and bags scattered about and a fox tail hanging on the rear-view mirror. I closed the door and walked over to the driver's side to feel around under the ratty old bench seat,

"There we go!" I grabbed the half empty bottle of 'Kentucky Straight' whiskey out of its hiding place. I re-locked the truck and headed back towards the shop's office, concealing the bottle under my light red jacket.

The mouse came back inside grinning from ear to ear, I couldn't figure out what had her wired, but I was betting it was my shit mess of a truck. "You laughin' at that POS beater out there?" I inquired and she responded with a giggle "No! No, I'm not laughing at your truck, in fact I like it. I'm just trying to figure out why on earth you carry whiskey on you at all times?" she smiled that damn smile again. I shook my head, pushing away her question and went to take a seat behind the front desk.

She set the bottle down on my right and I immediately took a quick swig. "You really know whatcha' doin' do ya?" I scoffed again. "Yes sir, don't go worrying." She assured while prepping the supplies and cleaning the needle.
"You must be replacin' tha' last gal, I'm assumin'?" "Yes, Carly. Today's actually my first day…" she faded off quietly. "'Carly'? huh? Never knew er' name, she was quite a slut with all the other boys." I shook my head and took another small swig. "Guess ole' Dean had enough of er' shit and kicked her out." I concluded.

She smiled a small courteous smile, and then looked at me straight. "Okay, this may hurt a lot, considering I don't have anything here to numb it…" I raised my hand that was holding the whiskey. She laughed and shook her head "You ready?" I grunted my yes, as she took peroxide dipped cotton and began to clean around the wound. I grimaced and took another larger swig right as she placed the needle at the bottom of the gash.

Half way through she looked me right in the eyes and asked with concern "Are you sure you're alright?" "Yeah of course I'm fine! Damn, woman, no time for formalities, jus' finish tha' damn thing!" Her mouth curved down into a small frown. "Hurts like a bitch but it's really more annoying than anything. Don't have many clean shirts left…" he drifted "Oh?" The woman looked down at the man's left arm that she was stitching and notices no ring on the fourth finger. "You're not married?" She asked in wonder as he almost chokes on his whiskey "Aw hell naw' I ain't tied down to no damn ball an chain!" She hushed after that and finished her way up my arm, placing the final stitch and tie.

I looked over to the computer and saw the login name on the screen read "Carol", damn that was a pretty name for a little lady like her. "That name suits you." She looked up in shock out of her concentrated trance "What?" "I said that name of yours is very suiting." I let out a small smile and a nod. She looked down with a growing crimson on her cheeks. "Why thank you."

His little compliment caught me off guard. I haven't been sincerely complimented by a member of the male gender, in a very, very long time. I just finished the final part of the stitch and was now unwrapping alcohol wipes to clean away the excess blood. I carefully finished up the job and nodded at him that I was finished. "Um, tha… thank you ma'am."

I smiled then got up to put away the supplies, while the mechanic was carefully putting his arm back into his sleeve. I looked out the window towards the front lot and saw a small sedan pulling up with customers. The man rose from my swivel chair and began to walk past me back towards the shop, when I stopped him. "I almost forgot! Didn't catch your name?" I inquired.

He stood still for a few seconds before responding. "Daryl." He growled in a low tone, and he continued to walk past me, when I saw, back turned in large letters across his shoulders on the jumpsuit was 'DIXON'.
"Daryl Dixon… Interesting…" I smiled to myself as he walked off, and then turned to face the incoming patrons.