DISCLAIMER: I don't own The Walking Dead or any of the characters. I'm also not a professional writer. Your feedback is my only payment.
Chapter 1: Prologue
They knew what was happening, but they never spoke about it. Lingering a few minutes here, stealing furtive glances there; neither of them had any desire to move quickly by making overt gestures. Over time, Daryl and Carol realized that they simply preferred each other's quiet company. It was easy. It worked for them. They just fell into the rhythm of routine, even while their lives were in chaos. Daily demands on their time kept them busy, which was good, as too much idle time allowed one to think too much. Too much thinking meant too much worrying. And with the crowding patterns of the walkers becoming more concentrated and supplies becoming more scarce, no one could afford to worry. It was do or die.
With each other, Daryl and Carol both felt accepted and appreciated for who they were without pretense or demands that they be otherwise. They often sought each other out at the end of the day just to check in with each other to see how the other was doing. It was a simple thing really, but neither of them took it for granted. They both took pleasure in being cared for by the other because neither of them had ever had much experience with it. It was strange and disconcerting at first, but the fidelity of their friendship soon became a gentle reassurance. Their regular check-ins were comfortable, even predictable. It felt like a safe haven amidst the chaos. Even though the world had gone to shit, people still mattered. They both cared about each other.
Daryl had come to admire Carol's emotional strength. When he first met her at the camp at the quarry, he thought she was too fragile for this world. She had an asshole for a husband and she seemed afraid much of the time, always hovering around her daughter, Sophia. When the son of a bitch got bit and died, Daryl had thought it was poetic justice. He had watched closely as Carol took the pickaxe to Ed's skull again and again and again, giving his lifeless body some payback for the years she likely suffered at his hand. Daryl had seen the bruises, he wasn't blind. He felt guilty because he never did anything about it, but Merle had warned him not to get involved. It was none of his business. But he was concerned nonetheless, and watched her like a hawk as she flitted through camp doting on her daughter. He was wary of this woman who seemed to put everyone before herself as she tended to their needs. He'd never seen anything like it, her selflessness. She intrigued him. After Sophia went missing, he tried to redeem himself by searching for her. But he had failed. It nearly destroyed Carol when they found out Sophia had turned. For a long time, Daryl felt like he failed her.
Before the dead started walking, Daryl hadn't made much of his life. He had a hard time keeping a job because he had trouble controlling his temper and got into a lot of fights. Someone was always running their mouth about some shit they didn't know shit about, and it pissed Daryl off. He drank a lot. Not the way his Daddy had, but enough to forget himself. Enough to forget how scared and lonely he felt most of the time whenever he was around other people. The only time he ever felt true peace was when he was alone in the woods. It was the only place he felt connected to everything. It was the only place he felt he belonged. When he was in the woods, he felt sure of himself. He knew his role in nature. He knew who he was. He had come to prefer the solitude the woods offered and learned to provide for himself.
Sometimes, he got sucked into one of Merle's schemes when he'd blow back into town, high as a kite, with his grandiose plans and manic energy. Daryl never really liked taking advantage of other people the way his brother did. It never settled right in his stomach and left him feeling uneasy. Yet, he had a hard time saying no to Merle. He was family after all. Even if he was an asshole most of the time, he was all Daryl had. So Daryl just pushed his feelings down to the place where he buried all his other feelings he didn't think about and just went along with it. Merle ended up going to prison once after one of his scams went south, but he had kept Daryl out of it.
"You're too sweet for the big house, little brother," Merle had told him dismissively. "That place'll eat you alive."
Daryl felt guilty about letting Merle down. He felt that he had failed him somehow. All his life Daryl had felt like the failure his Daddy had always told him he was.
But then a strange thing happened. Carol had sought him out, fearlessly, as he recalled. She stood her ground as he tried, unsuccessfully, to push her out of his mind. He tried to stop caring because the pain of it seemed so unbearable and tore at him from the inside. Who did she think she was? He was nothing to her. He had failed her in every way. Yet, she never saw him in this way that he saw himself. She kept reaching out to him, and refused, quite stubbornly as he saw it, to give up. She had believed in him. She had seen beyond the pretense of his defensive anger to how much he really cared, and called him on his own bullshit. And so Daryl started believing in himself. He started to understand that he had something to offer others. He started to take pride in himself for his ability to hunt and provide for these people he had come to see as a sort of family. A family he never really had. Carol had taught him that the only real failure was running away and not trying. Over time, he learned that caring for others had helped to lessen the pain. People came to respect him because of the effort he made. It took the end of the world for Daryl to find true meaning and purpose to his life.
After they fled the farm, Daryl started teaching Carol how to defend herself. She was an eager student and always listened intently when he instructed her on the proper way to wield a knife. Once he even wrapped himself in pillows and taught her some basic combat moves and how to evade an attacker. He wanted her to be safe. He knew that the walkers weren't the only threat out there. It was anarchy. And as much as he wanted to, he knew he couldn't always be there to protect her.
She had smiled when she saw him, her eyes sparkled mischievously. "You look like the Michelin Man," she teased.
"Stop," he declared, embarrassed. His cheeks grew warm. "Defendin' yourself is serious business, lady. You can't be worryin' yourself about the other guy's feelin's. You think he's gonna give a shit about yours?" he challenged her.
Carol dropped her smile and bit her lip, stifling the chuckle that threatened to escape. "Yes, sir," she saluted him. "Let's get down to business."
Carol relished her lessons with Daryl. He taught her how to be strong. She learned how to fight back so she wouldn't be a victim anymore. There was no need to let her fear stop her when she could do something. Ed had always made her feel like nothing. As if she were incapable of doing anything. But Ed was dead. She was no longer oppressed. There was no one setting her limits now. Being powerless and afraid had cost her Sophia. It was a painful lesson she would never forget.