Burden
"You're his henchmen, and I'm a burden."
"What do you want?"
"A man of honor."
"Rick's a man of honor."
Daryl had wanted to say so much more than that. They sat next to each other in front of the fire after a long day of Carol clenching onto Daryl's waist while he sped down the streets on his brothers motorcycle. That was the first time she had ever ridden on one of those things, and now as they sit on the ground, Daryl's cross bow separating them, she would give anything to be that close to him again. The way that her hands felt right on him, the way her head laid perfect on his back, she wanted that. She almost laughs after she comprehends that thought; she always seems to think so much into the little things.
They sit in silence and Carol wonders if they will ever be more than sitting next to each other in awkward silence. She glances across the fire, over the crackling sparks and is plagued with jealously. Hershel and Beth. Carl and Lori. Maggie and Glenn. Carol's parents had passed away long before the end of the world; and when she watches the way that Hershel holds her she wanders if her parents ever held her like that. Lori loves her son. She loves her son the way that she loved Sophia. Carol moves on to the next couple sitting on lovers lane, because she can't really bare to think much about her daughter.
Maggie and Glenn. Carol had always loved the thought of first loves, young and innocent. They sit close, their hands intertwined, Maggie resting her head on Glenn's shoulder. Of course their relationship is nothing like Carol and Daryl's; but Carol can't help but wonder what she would feel if Daryl held her like that.
Ha. Like that would ever happen. Carol is a Burden after all. Daryl didn't even deny it one bit.
Daryl can't sleep. Maybe it's being outdoors, with nothing but the scraps of blankets that the group had found it the back of the cars. Maybe it's the creaking and the buzzing and the thought a walker would wonder in at any moment. Maybe it was that he couldn't get what Carol had said to him early out of his head. He's been trying hard not look at her while she slept. She lay next to him, her arms hugging her tight, her legs tucked in beneath her ass. Daryl finds her quiet breaths relaxing.
He really did want to say so much more then. But he couldn't get out the words, especially with T-dog glaring, and Maggie and Glenn inches away from fucking right there, and from Rick having a break down. It was all too much, too long of a day. He just couldn't deal with her right then. But now it's killing him, and he has to talk to her.
"Carol." He says, touching her fragile shoulder the lightest he knows how. She wakes up automatically, and Daryl leans away from her in surprise, but who sleeps any good after the end of the world anyway? She's glaring up at him with wide, confused eyes, and he gives her a minute to realize that it's him before he talks.
"You don't know me." He says as soon as she sits up, looking into his serious eyes. "You didn't know me before. You didn't know the person I was," He presses his lips together for a moment. "the person I am." He corrects himself.
"Daryl," Carol starts, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand.
"No." He shakes his head. "I ain't a man a' honor. I ain't suited for the role ya trying to put me in." Daryl pauses because he has a feeling she wants to interject, to try to build him up more while he is trying to break him down. But she just pushes her thin, brittle lips together, waiting to hear more. "I'm not right for you." He says, looking away from her, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. He's not sure how to get out any more words, or if he even wants to.
"I'm not good enough for you, Carol." He spits out, glancing up at her one more time just to make sure he wasn't talking to himself. "You're a good person. You care about others. That's rare now' a days. Dont'cha get it? I'm a fucked up hick that's been arrested seven times, and I sure as hell ain't no honorable man."
It's so quiet all of a sudden. Not even the crackling of what's left of the fire. Not even the sound of the wind on the trees. Not even Carol's breathing.
"Okay."
Okay? That definitely wasn't the response Daryl was looking for. He excepted her to fight for him, to do anything to convince him that he is a good man. If she doesn't say anything else, Daryl's going to act like he's satisfied, even though he's not. He supposes it's fair though, after how short he's been with her lately.
Carol smiles at him, nodding. Daryl can feel her fragile hand brush against his rough one, and then he turns away from her, laying his head on the stained orange blanket beneath him.
"Hey, Daryl?"
"What do you want?"
"You know that you're wrong, right?"
"Huh?"
"Everything you just said. That ain't right. I don't really care what you say. I'll make sure to convince you of that."