AN: This is just a little one shot to go with a Tumblr prompt. They wanted it to be really awkward and I don't know if it's awkward enough, but I went with what felt right to me.
I own nothing from the Walking Dead.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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Daryl didn't even know why the hell he was here.
He hated these kinds of things. He hated high school. He hated most everyone he'd gone to school with. He even hated the smell of the old building that still smelled the same damn way it had back then.
They'd all figured he'd never go anywhere and he'd never make anything of his life. Maybe they'd been half right. He didn't know how successful he was—he worked and he had enough money to get by, but he wasn't exactly wallpapering his modest little home in hundred dollar bills—but he'd sure as shit gotten out of the tiny ass town of Hobbs, Georgia as quickly as he could after high school graduation.
This was the first time he'd been back, actually, and he didn't know why.
Except maybe he did.
Daryl wanted to blame the whole damn thing on his brother's harassment that he go to the reunion. It had been thirty years, after all, but he couldn't blame it all on Merle. Still, Merle was the one who planted the seed.
Merle still kept in touch with a couple of the assholes that he'd gone to school with and he kept up with some of the town gossip. It had been years, and maybe even decades, since Carol McAlister had left her asshole husband, Ed Peletier. The two of them had moved out of town about as fast as Daryl had—not three months after they'd gotten hitched—and it was rumored that Carol was making the trip back to Hobbs for the reunion.
Technically it was Carol Ann McAlister that had Daryl coming back.
And Daryl felt like an absolute idiot as he stood staring at the stick on name tag.
Hello, my name is...DARYL.
He'd filled it out before he'd thought about it and he'd forgotten to leave room for Dixon. He didn't want to embarrass himself by asking for a new sticker so he was stuck with this one now. Now he was going to be walking around the fucking reunion like he was Cher or Madonna. He didn't need a last name.
The truth was he really didn't need a last name. He didn't need a first name, either. Nobody there gave a shit about him.
And Carol McAlister, if she ever showed up, was more than likely going to be on the arm of some lucky ass man who was probably a lawyer or a doctor. She probably wouldn't remember Daryl at all. She certainly wouldn't remember that he'd been in love with her since she couldn't help but keep one of her knees scraped all the damn time.
She wouldn't know he loved her because he'd always chickened out of telling her.
More than once, he'd entertained himself with daydreams about how different his life would have been if he'd married Carol Ann. If he'd just told her that he loved her, she might've looked right over Ed Peletier. She might've married Daryl. They might be living in Willingston, where Daryl called home, and they might have two or three kids that were just about ready to leave the nest by now.
Daryl never told her how he felt, though, and she was probably already good and moved on from Ed.
Meanwhile Daryl was stuck in a room, surrounded by people he hadn't liked thirty years ago, while he wore a stupid ass sticker that identified him by his first name like the uniforms he used to wear at the shop he'd worked at straight out of high school.
Daryl drank a couple of the complementary drinks at the bar, shared a couple of put-on laughs with a few people who pretended they knew him but didn't have a damn clue about what classes they might've shared together, and kicked himself more and more as the night drew on. He had a cheap ass little motel room just outside of town on the highway, but even that cost more than what this night was worth.
He hadn't seen anyone he wanted to see and he'd been reminded, a little too quickly, why he'd lit out of Hobbs like his ass was on fire the minute that he got the chance.
Daryl did one more run around the room, grabbed himself another of the complimentary drinks, and slipped out the door to sit outside the building and smoke. He was kicking himself for even having come to the stupid reunion. It was a waste of gas money and motel money and, on top of that, it made Daryl feel like an idiot.
Carol hadn't even come to the damn reunion. And if she had? What exactly did Daryl think would happen? She'd see him across the room and come running to him? She'd confess to him that she'd been daydreaming of the life they should've had together as long as he had? She'd ask to go back with him and see the inside of his crummy ass little motel room because she was as out of place in Hobbs as he was?
Daryl finished his drink, tossed the cup in the garbage can outside, and took his cigarette with him as he headed toward his truck.
His shoes crunched on the gravel as he dug around in his pockets in the glow of the streetlights that lit up the parking lot. There were several people coming toward him in small waves, but he walked right past them. He was done with the reunion. They wouldn't remember him anyway and he'd rather forget them.
As soon as he passed the waves of people, all of them laughing and happy to see one another, he practically ran into another person headed back toward the building.
And he stopped right where he was so that she practically had to slide on her heels not to collide with him. Daryl reached his hand out, grabbing the woman before she went down on her knees on the gravel. She dropped her purse and the contents of the bag went scattering across the ground.
His heart nearly stopped and he couldn't believe his eyes.
"I'm sorry," he stammered out. "I damn near knocked you down. Here...lemme help ya..."
"It's OK," the woman said. "It's OK—I wasn't really looking where I was going. I've never parked back here and it's been so long...is this the way to the gym?"
She was turned around and she didn't recognize him. Not for a moment. Daryl helped her gather up the contents of her spilled bag and he passed the items back to her as she shoved them back into her purse.
"Reunion's that way, Carol," Daryl said. "Don't you remember? Over there—that was the shop building. You remember that? Out back of the shop building?"
Carol looked at him. She stared at him hard, brow furrowed, for a moment. Then a smile of recognition played on her lips.
"Daryl?" She asked.
Daryl nodded at her and offered his name tag in her direction.
Carol smiled more sincerely.
"Daryl!" She exclaimed.
"You been out here," Daryl said. "But'cha don't remember it that good. Used to come out here and..."
"Smoke cigarettes," Carol said. She laughed. "During Mr. Walter's class. He'd always let me go to the bathroom and he never seemed to notice that I'd be gone for half the class."
"Or that'cha come in smellin' like smoke afterwards," Daryl said.
"I can't believe it's you," Carol said. "It's been a long time."
"Thirty years," Daryl said. "I almost thought'cha weren't gonna come and I gotta admit, I was pretty pissed that I shelled out the cash for a room and the gas just to find out you weren't here."
Carol furrowed her brow at Daryl.
"Nobody knew I was coming," Carol said.
Daryl swallowed.
"Somebody knew," Daryl said.
Carol shook her head.
"Nobody knew," Carol repeated.
"Merle knew," Daryl said.
"Merle...your brother?" Carol asked.
Daryl nodded his head.
"That's impossible," Carol said. "I didn't tell anyone. The only person I told was..."
Daryl raised his eyebrows at her in question.
"Andrea," Carol said. "And I think I've got a pretty good feeling who it is she's been talking to on her phone for a couple of weeks now."
Daryl laughed to himself.
"Merle's been glued to his phone like it was growin' out his damned hand," Daryl offered. "Didn't know who he was talkin' to, though. How the hell is Andrea?"
"Well—she lives about a block and a half from me now," Carol said. "But maybe you should ask your brother. It sounds like he'd know more about it than I would."
"He always did kinda have a thing for Andrea," Daryl said. "He's been into her damn near as long as I was..."
He stopped himself. His brain realized what his mouth was going to say just in the nick of time and stopped the words from making their grand escape and making him into a bigger ass than he already was for having made Carol drop her purse when he nearly slammed into her. If it had happened any faster, Carol might have heard the brakes in his brain squealing.
"As long as you were what?" Carol asked.
"Nothin'," Daryl said. "Just gonna say—he's had it for her for a long damn time."
"Are you leaving already?" Carol asked.
"I didn't come for but one thing," Daryl said. "And that was just to see you."
"Surely you came for more than that," Carol said.
Daryl laughed to himself.
"You think I come to see these assholes? Do you even remember high school?" Daryl responded.
"I remember some of it really well," Carol said. "I remembered smoking cigarettes outside of shop class with you, didn't I?"
"Then you remember I didn't have no bunch of friends back in high school," Daryl said. "Some things don't change all that much."
"So you were leaving?" Carol asked.
Daryl shrugged his shoulders.
"I could go back in," Daryl said. "If that's what you wanted to do. But—I can tell you what's goin' on in there and it's a pretty sad show. Some receding hairlines, a few waistlines that weren't what the hell they were, and a whole lotta people just—standin' around relivin' what was probably the best damn days of their lives. It's a pretty sad show in there."
Carol laughed to herself.
"And a single mother and divorcee won't have much to add to it," Carol mused.
Daryl laughed.
"Yeah I didn't have all that much to add," he agreed. "You come back to see all them?"
"Mostly—I think I came back just to come back," Carol said with a sigh. "I think I came back just to—remember where I came from. I don't know. Maybe it's the age old you can never go home again idea. I guess I thought I could come home for one night, you know? Come back to the old town. See some old faces. It would be just like high school for a couple of hours."
Daryl laughed to himself.
"You must remember that shit a whole lot more fondly than I do," Daryl said.
Carol hummed.
"But you came back," she said.
Daryl nodded his head.
"But it weren't for them," he said. "Drivin' in—I seen that Razz's burgers is still open. If you were hungry—we could go by there. You still like a chili burger with—with double fries and a strawberry shake?"
Carol smiled.
"My metabolism told me to give up all those things a long time ago," Carol said.
"You look good," Daryl said. "I mean—I just meant that...well, I guess I meant what I said. You look good. You back in high school one night. Means you gotta—eat like you there. Juke's is open outside of town. Don't look like no crowd there. Always said we was gonna go dancin' and drinkin' there one night, but we never did."
"We were never legal," Carol said.
"I'm plenty legal now," Daryl said. "And—you lookin' pretty legal to me."
Carol laughed.
"Is that a compliment? I can't exactly tell," she said.
Daryl swallowed.
"I think it was meant to be," Daryl said.
"You're not sure?" Carol asked.
"Not right now," Daryl admitted. "I think I might be fuckin' this up, to be honest."
Carol smiled.
"I think maybe you're not," Carol said. "Not as much as you think. Why don't you just be straightforward about it? What is it you want, Daryl?"
"I come here for a reunion," Daryl said. "But it weren't really high school I was interested in. Not them assholes in there. Guess—what I'm hoping is that you'll spend the night with me?"
Carol raised her eyebrows at him and Daryl realized how the words had come out.
"Not like that!" He said quickly. "I mean—if you wanted to I wouldn't say...but I didn't...that's not what I meant. I meant—would you have a chili burger with me? Maybe go out to Juke's an' have a drink? Dance a little? We could just—ya know."
"Spend the night together?" Carol asked.
"Shit," Daryl said with a laugh. "I keep steppin' on my tongue. Can we start again?"
"I don't think we need to," Carol said. "I'd love to spend the night with you. I wasn't that invested in seeing everyone. I don't think half of them would even remember me. I spent too much time out behind shop class with you." She nodded at Daryl. "Let's go. We'll spend the night together."
"My truck's this way," Daryl said. "Unless—you wanna drive separate?"
"You'll bring me back to get my car, won't you?" Carol asked.
"Only polite thing to do," Daryl said.
"Then we'll take your truck," Carol said.
She started walking with Daryl. As they made their way back across the parking lot, Daryl reached out a hand to catch Carol's arm when she stumbled over some of the loose gravel. She didn't pull away from him when she'd straightened herself up, so he held her arm as they walked. When they got to his truck, Daryl's heart was pounding in his chest. He opened up the passenger side door and allowed Carol to get in, offering her an arm if she needed it. He leaned against the open door before he closed it.
"Just to be clear," Daryl said, "when you said we was spendin' the night together, you meant—the chili burger an' the dancin', right?"
Carol smiled at him.
"Juke's wasn't the only thing that I was curious about that was...well, sort of off limits to me in high school." She shrugged her shoulders. "We'll start with the burgers and the dancing. It could be fun to just see where it goes. What do you think?"
Daryl smiled.
"I think if I'da knowed I liked high school reunions this much, it wouldn't have taken me thirty years to get to one," Daryl offered.
He closed the door and started around the truck. He only had to stop once, at the back of the truck, to catch his breath and pinch himself to make sure that the whole damn thing was real.
But it was real.
And Daryl was pretty sure it was the best high school reunion that anybody ever had.