Carol had seen Daryl leave the party earlier with a full bottle of wine. While he hadn't seemed upset by anything, she thought she'd go check on him anyway. Besides, she needed some fresh air.
She had made the choice not to drink with the others. Not necessarily because she thought they were in any danger, but because she wanted to be a help to anyone who might choose to overdo it. This group of people rarely got to relax and they tended to take full advantage of the opportunity when it came.
Also Carol had never particularly enjoyed the feeling of being drunk, especially when the next morning came.
She had to admit, it was nice to see everyone having a good time for once. She couldn't remember the last time they'd had access to wine and a reason to celebrate to go along with it.
The night felt amazing. It was early November. There was a chill in the air but she found it pleasant after being in the large group inside the house.
She climbed the steps to Daryl's trailer and knocked.
"It's open," she heard from inside. She opened the door.
"Hey," she said, walking inside."You alright?"
"Yep," he said and he seemed it.
"Mind some company?" she asked.
He shook his head and gestured for her to come sit. She closed the door behind her and walked to sit in the chair adjacent from where he was sitting on the couch.
She had been in his trailer once before for a few minutes. It was very minimal. A chair, couch, small coffee table, full bed and a stack of books beside it currently being used for a bedside table. It barely looked lived in, which didn't surprise her, knowing him like she did. The fact that he had even agreed to take a full trailer to himself kind of seemed unlike him. The Daryl she knew wasn't fond of walls.
She noticed he seemed incredibly relaxed, sitting with the bottle she had seen him leave with between his legs. She recalled only seeing a relaxed Daryl on less than a handful of occasions in her time knowing him. But never quite like this. It was obvious that he was more than a little buzzed.
He saw her watching him, looking more amused that anything. "Exactly how much have you had to drink, Daryl?"
"I've had enough," he smirked, taking another mouthful of wine.
She chuckled. "I see. Should I be concerned?"
"Nah, I'm alright."
"Alright."
"You ain't drinkin'" It was a statement rather than a question.
She shook her head, "Someone has to be in their right mind around here."
"That bad out there?"
She shrugged. "Not many have... restrained themselves."
"Probably stupid of us," he said, reflectively. "Just shows how much of our guard we've let down."
"It'll be alright," she said. "I mean, I'm still sober."
He smiled, "Good point." She had been joking with him, but he firmly believed she could have easily protected all of the Hilltop on her own.
"Relaxing every once in awhile isn't a bad thing, Daryl," she said gently, wanting to reassure him.
He nodded, grateful that she didn't think badly of him for it.
"So," she broke in, changing the subject. "Would you say you're an angry drunk or a happy drunk?"
He scoffed at the question which made her giggle.
"I just wanna know what I'm in for."
"Depends on the situation," he said, eyes laughing.
"Ah... A wild card." Her gaze lingered on him. He didn't mind. The thought of being inebriated around Carol would have normally disarmed him. Having control of himself, especially where she was concerned, was very important to him. But tonight? Tonight he was feeling pretty calm in the situation.
"You know," he said, pushing his boots off onto the floor and propping his feet up on the table, "not many people get to see me relaxed... You should count yourself lucky."
She couldn't fight the smile breaking out on her face. "Is that why you left the party?"
He shrugged, smiling. "I can't let people start to think I'm happy and shit."
They both laughed.
"This is true," she said. "Since I've been given the privilege, maybe I should take advantage of this... relaxed Daryl."
She'd forgotten how much she enjoyed flirting with this man. He would always scoff, shake it off, tell her to stop. But she had a feeling he enjoyed it too.
"Yeah? How you gonna do that?"
She almost, almost told him exactly how she'd like to take advantage of him. Instead she just smiled, flirtatiously.
"Oh I don't know. Ask you a bunch of questions? I bet you'd be more honest that usual."
"You callin' me a liar?" he asked with a hint of humor, taking another swig from the bottle.
"Maybe honest wasn't the right word," she said thoughtfully. "Open... more open than usual."
"That's probably true," he said softly. He seemed to consider her idea. "Alright... I'm game."
She was kind of surprised with how okay he seemed with the idea of her asking him whatever might pop into her head.
"What do your tattoos mean?"
He laughed a little. "Nothin'. Not a damn one of them. Got every single one drunk." He shrugged a little, feeling a slight embarrassment, but trying not to show it.
She looked amused. "Here I was thinking they all had deep symbolic meaning."
He laughed. "Hate to disappoint you," he took a drink. "Hell, I'm pretty sure a couple had to have been dares. Probably Merle."
"You ever broken any bones?" The question came out of her mouth before she realized what a stupid question it was. Ed had broken her bones on several occasions as she was sure Daryl's father or even brother most likely had. Something he probably wouldn't want to talk about. But to her surprise his answer was no.
"Twisted my ankle something fierce once. Fallin' out of a tree."
"That does not surprise me at all," she said, laughing.
She couldn't get over how at ease he was. And how ridiculously attractive it was. She hardly ever saw the man smile, let alone laugh.
"What were you like as a kid?" she asked.
He took a small drink, thinking. "I don't know," he started. "Quiet."
"I was looking for an answer that was a little less blatantly obvious, Daryl. "
He chuckled. "I don't know," he said again. "Spent a lot of time in the woods. Spent a lot of time following Merle around. Tryin' to stay outta my old man's way." He shrugged. "Nothin' interesting."
She chose to be satisfied with that.
It felt good to talk to him. The two friends hadn't had a chance to really talk in a good long while. Even when she had tried to talk to him, it felt awkward and strained. She felt like the openness she had once had with him had thinned. She knew that a big part of it was her moving to the Kingdom, but if she were honest, she had felt separated from him for even longer than that.
At some point along the way, she had decided keeping things from him was easier than being completely honest. Safer. And she felt he had also decided this in his own way. Whether it was a conscious decision or not, she wasn't sure.
She thought back to the last time she had seen him. They had all been in Washington. Daryl had been quiet that whole trip. Even quieter than usual. He had seemed to avoid eye contact, reluctant to speak to her. Very different from the man in front of her now.
"Ah, the many faces of Daryl Dixon," she thought.
She had feared his silence, had interpreted it as anger. He was the one person she couldn't stand to have angry with her, but she also couldn't blame him. Why wouldn't he be angry with her? She was angry with herself.
"You're really putting some thought into your next question," he interrupted her thoughts. "Makin' me nervous."
"Sorry." She smiled a soft smile. She decided to go ahead and ask what she wanted to know.
"Are you mad at me?" she asked softly.
He looked surprised and confused. "Why the hell would I be mad at you?"
She shrugged. "For leaving."
He was quiet for awhile before he spoke. When he did, his voice was gentle. "I ain't mad at you. You did what was right by you. Can't blame you for that."
She didn't feel she deserved his gentleness, but was soothed by his answer. She wished that she could somehow spill out all the words that needed to be said between them. His absence in her life was a pain that never quite left her and she never knew how to bridge the gap between them.
Daryl watched her face. He, of course, knew why she had thought he was angry. He had gone out of his way to keep distance between them during their time in Washington. He had told himself it was just because he didn't quite know what to say. Told himself it wouldn't even matter to her whether he spoke or not.
After the war with the Saviors, she had vanished back to the Kingdom and it hadn't really surprised him. She seemed pretty close to that Henry kid and he assumed maybe she was just there to help him out. He himself hadn't been in the best of places then, so he couldn't really blame anyone for keeping their distance from him, even her.
But in the months that followed, when he would visit the Kingdom for trades (really just an excuse to check up on her), he felt there was a fondness growing between Carol and Ezekiel. A fondness that he started to fear might be the real reason behind her leaving the Hilltop.
He had yet to see true evidence of them being together, but there was enough suspicion in his mind that he decided it might as well be true.
She'd been quiet for awhile. "Was that all you wanted to know?" he asked.
"Probably not," she paused. "How are things going for you here?"
He shrugged, "They're alright. Place still feels kind of weird to me. But more of a home than Alexandria ever was."
She nodded. "It was hard to be who we were there," she trailed off, realizing how true what she said was. Both separately and together, they had felt out of their skins in those perfect houses. He had tried to fight it, but Daryl always felt he was a moment away from someone telling him he didn't really belong there. And Carol had had to adopt an entirely different persona to stomach how much her life in Alexandria reminded her of her life with Ed. All of the lying and hiding behind the perfect facade got to be more than she could take.
"You feel at home in the Kingdom?" he asked.
"I suppose," she answered. "I feel useful there. Needed. Kind of like the prison... with the obvious advantage of it not being a prison."
"That's good." He knew she needed that. To be needed. Useful. "They're lucky to have you."
She met his eyes. They were soft, almost sad. Again she felt the pull to apologize. The feeling that she had single-handedly ruined the friendship they once had.
She decided to lighten the mood and even the playing field a bit. "Have any burning questions you've been dying to ask me?" she asked flirtatiously. "I mean, I'm sober, but I figure we should play fair." She smiled at him.
He played along, leaning back on the couch. "Hm... what to ask Carol..."
He smiled and she giggled. Hearing her name on his lips was such a rare occurrence. She relished the sound.
"You got any tattoos?" His eyebrows went up like his mind could only be hoping she had something tattooed in an unmeantionable place.
She shook her head no.
He shrugged like he was slightly disappointed and she giggled.
He took another sip. "What were you like when you were a kid?" he asked softly.
She took a deep breath. "Trouble."
They both laughed. "Yep," he said. "I figured as much."
"I was loud and rebellious and ran around with the boys." She shook her head. "My mother hated it. Said it wasn't ladylike."
"Eh, ladylike is overrated. Pretty much useless now anyway."
"That is very true."
He was quiet for a bit.
"You didn't ask if I'd ever broken anything."
He looked thoughtful. "I figured you probably didn't wanna answer that."
"Thank you," she whispered. The man never failed to surprise her. He seemed so gruff and harsh on the outside but he really was the most considerate man she'd ever known. At least towards her anyway.
"I have to say, Daryl, those weren't very original questions. Do you have any of your own?"
He chewed his bottom lip and thought. For reasons unknown to him, his mind drifted back to the prison. To that very first night there. Standing on that bus in the yard felt like it might as well have happened in another lifetime. He thought of that night often. Maybe because of Carol. Maybe because life had somehow seemed simpler back then.
Several times over the past few years, he had wondered what would have happened if he had taken her up on her offer to "screw around". She had been joking, of course. He knew that. But he had felt there was a glimpse of something more serious underneath her laughter. Maybe he should have asked then. He wasn't even sure how he would ask such a question at this point. And would the answer even matter? Now that so much had happened since that night?
"It ain't important," he started. "Just something I've wondered."
"Okay."
He chewed his lip a bit and decided to go with it. He could always blame the wine in the future. "You remember that first night at the prison?"
She nodded, remembering like it was yesterday and a million years ago all at once.
He started to chew on his finger thoughtfully. "You asked if I wanted to screw around..."
She bit her lip as heat immediately flushed her face. "Yes."
He laughed softly at her reaction. At the awkward moment that he had created. Thank God he was drinking.
"What would you have done if I had said yes?"
She blushed again, still chewing her bottom lip. She felt a bit embarrassed. She had always wondered if Daryl ever thought about that night. Apparently he did. "Honestly?"
He nodded.
She continued to chew her lip while she thought of how to answer. He watched her lips, a warmth spreading through his body. He blamed the wine, not her mouth.
"I would have been surprised..." she looked down, fidgeting with her hands, "... but I can't say I would have backed out."
He tried (and failed) to keep a grin from spreading across his face by looking down at the bottle in his hands.
She giggled, also looking away. She suddenly felt overly warm. She covered her mouth, trying to regain her composure. "It's probably for the best," she said. "Friendship and all."
"Yeah," he nodded, his face thoughtful. "I think it's your turn now."
Carol took a breath and tried to think of another question. Maybe one that wouldn't make her blush quite so much. Her mind was on the prison. Her newfound freedom from Ed had brought out a strength and confidence that she had thought had left her forever. It had been intoxicating. She had started flirting with Daryl simply to get a reaction out of him, to make him uncomfortable. She found that he was unbearably cute when he blushed.
Even back then she knew he would never have taken her up on any of it, even if he had been interested. She hadn't completely understood why. He seemed to watch her when he thought she wasn't looking, but he would never do more than that. Over the years, she'd grown to understand the control Daryl needed over his environment. She respected it.
Time had passed and life had become a bit too serious for her to even want to casually flirt with anyone. And Daryl had become way too important to her for her to risk what they had all so she could possibly make him blush. She had wondered at times if there had ever been a woman who had made him relinquish the control that seemed to be at the center of who he was.
"Have you ever been in love?"
It wasn't a question he had expected, but his face didn't show any surprise. "I might have been..." he answered. "Once."
"What was she like?" Carol asked.
"Strong... smart... brave... terrifying." He looked directly at her, "Sexy as hell."
She blushed fiercely and cursed herself. "It isn't like he's talking about you, woman!" But just his voice saying "sexy as hell" made her warm all over. She couldn't help but wonder what kind of woman could make him talk like that.
She willed her face to calm down. "Did you ever tell her?"
He scoffed, like the very idea was ridiculous. "No."
"That's a shame," she said, before she really knew why. She liked the idea of Daryl loving someone. Of him being happy. Relaxed. Cared for. He deserved that.
"I ain't so good at that kind of thing..." he said, looking at his hands.
She smiled like she had some funny secret. He narrowed his eyes at her. "What's so funny?"
"When did you lose your virginity?"
He laughed, blushing, and shook his head. "Gettin' down to the good stuff, are we?"
She laughed in response.
"I was 16," he said, "much to Merle's judgement." He shook his head. "Merle would have had everyone believe he lost his at 10. Which is a fuckin' lie."
She laughed again. "Oh, Merle. What was he like when he was a kid?"
"He was an asshole," he said, chuckling, taking another sip.
He looked up at her. "What about you?"
"What about me?" she replied, sassily.
But Daryl wasn't put off. If he had to answer all these damn questions then she did too.
"When did you lose yours?"
She bit the inside of her cheek. "I was 17... and stupid."
He smiled. "You ever been in love?" he asked.
She sighed thoughtfully. "Oh, there were a few guys in high school that I thought I loved... a neighbor when I was growing up... he was way too old," she giggled, and all he could see was how her eyes lit up when talking about her youth. It made her so damn beautiful that he could hardly stand it. He had a very strong desire to ask her how many of those high school guys she had slept with. But he didn't.
"Did you love Ed?"
Her eyes became clouded and she looked down. He almost regretted asking, but she answered before he could take it back.
"I thought I did... in the beginning. I think I loved the idea of someone wanting to marry me more than anything else." Her voice sounded far away to her ears. She was quiet then.
Daryl noted that she hadn't mentioned Tobin. Or Ezekiel. He didn't ask. Neither relationship was any of his business. But that didn't stop him from wondering if Carol had been to bed with either of them. Why was he suddenly so interested in her sex life? Where was his mind? He blamed the firelight... the wine... her eyes... the curve of her neck...
"Pretty deep in thought over there, Dixon. Am I losing you?"
He blushed a little, "Nah, I was just thinking of that asshole husband of yours. How he didn't deserve you."
She smiled at him appreciatively. "It all had a purpose," she said. "Made me stronger. More able to survive all of this shit."
He nodded. He supposed that was true.
A comfortable silence fell between the two of them. He watched her with soft eyes and she let him, trying not to wonder why. There had been so many times in the past when Carol had caught the man watching her. Sometimes out of the corner of his eyes, but most of the time not. At times the intensity of his stare had overwhelmed her and she had wanted to ask him what on earth he could possibly be looking at.
"It's your turn," he prompted, breaking her thoughts. He himself enjoyed the silence, but he worried the lag in conversation might cause her to leave. He felt like this might be the only time he would ever have with her in a moment like this. Him feeling open, no one to fight, no one to fear, no giant wall between him and the world. He was reluctant for any of it to end. He felt almost certain that if he let her walk out his door he would never see her again.
"Do you ever get lonely?" she asked without thinking. She too was feeling the heaviness of the night. The now or never. The need to continue speaking to him overrode her fears of what she might say next.
He seemed to give the question serious thought. "I don't know..." he finally said. "I figure what most people would call lonely is really just what life has always been for me. I've never really known any different."
"Hm." She stared at him thoughtfully.
"What?" he asked.
"I just can't decide if that's heartbreaking or if you're lucky."
He shrugged, "It's just how it is," he said, like it was completely acceptable that he had never known anything but loneliness.
She was quiet, wishing for the thousandth time since she had met the man that life would have been kinder to Daryl. He deserved so much more than anyone had ever given him.
He saw that his answer seemed to have made her sad. He leaned his head back on the couch. He had to admit that his comfort was quickly turning to drowsiness. When he spoke, his voice was low, husky. "Are you lonely, Carol?"
There was her name on his lips again. She was torn between the warmth working at the base of her spine and the quivering of her lips. She couldn't meet his eyes. The truth she wouldn't speak was that sometimes she was so lonely she felt it would rise up and swallow her whole.
"Sometimes," she said softly.
He felt a strange urge to pull her over to him, to wrap his body around her and prevent her from ever hurting again.
"Hey," he said, his voice slow and heavy. She looked up at him and he patted the space next to him on the couch. "Come sit with me."
She got up slowly and moved to sit down with him, their arms barely touching. His head still leaned back on the couch lazily. She could tell he was getting sleepy.
"I don't want you to be lonely," he said, looking at her from the corner of his eyes. His voice was barely a whisper.
She felt a heat move in her belly, the same one she always felt when he spoke in that deep, husky whisper. She had to admit it was insanely sexy. But there was also a sadness in her that threatened to break with the words he spoke. She could have easily let it turn into genuine sobbing, but she wouldn't.
She could feel his eyes on her. She sighed and mimicked his posture, leaning his head next to his and propping her feet up on the table.
Daryl wasn't really thinking about what he was doing or saying and it was quite a relief. He was constantly questioning everything. Constantly on his guard. It was fucking exhausting and it felt really good to lower his defenses. Now if he could just get her to lower hers.
He moved his hand, turned upward, and placed it on her knee. An invitation.
She took an audible breath that he interpreted as hesitation.
"Don't worry," he said, his words were soft. He'd turned his face to her and she felt his breath as he spoke. It made her insides shiver. "I ain't tryin' to make a move on you."
There was humor in his voice and she giggled quietly. She slowly placed her hand in his, interlacing their fingers. How could something so simple feel so complete? Like all of the shit in this world could be erased simply by holding his hand. She felt like she was holding her breath, terrified that exhaling might shatter the fragile moment.
He on the other hand felt strong, secure, sure of himself. He didn't know if it was confidence or the wine (and honestly he didn't really care). For once he felt like he might actually have a chance to make something happen with Carol. He couldn't even remember how long he had wanted that. Since he first met her probably.
He let his thumb move back and forth over hers. Gently. She waited, wondering if he would take this somewhere. Or should she?
They sat there together for what felt like a long time to her. Daryl, despite himself, had become so relaxed next to her that his eyes were becoming heavy.
Carol debated whether she should stay or leave. She was quite tightly wound and could tell nothing was going to happen here other than Daryl falling asleep.
She sat up slowly and his head jerked up, "Hm?"
She laughed, released and patted his hand, "You're falling asleep, sir."
He stretched lazily. "No, I ain't."
She laughed again as she stood. "It's okay. You should sleep."
He made a sound that was damn close to being a whine. "I ain't even tired."
She laughed a little harder, "I swear you're a four-year-old sometimes."
He scoffed.
"You may not be tired," she said. "But I am."
"Alright," he said, slowly standing.
They both walked towards the door and stood there, her back to the door. She was very aware of how close he was to her.
"Just know though... that I don't want you to go..."
His voice sounded so earnest and sincere that she felt herself begin to tear up again. Why the hell was this guy always making her want to cry?
"Well, you are drunk, Daryl," she said quietly.
He broke into a smile that almost broke her heart, "That is very true." He chewed his bottom lip, almost like he was considering saying something more. He decided against it whatever it was.
"Goodnight, Carol."
Her eyes were soft and warm and damn did he want her to stay. But she was right, he was drunk and felt like he could barely keep his eyes open while standing. She deserved better than him trying to make a move on her in this state.
"Goodnight, Daryl," she whispered and she walked out the door.
He watched her walk all the way to the big house where she would be sleeping tonight and she felt his eyes on her the entire time.
Daryl fell asleep not long after she left, heavy and hard. But Carol barely slept at all. She kept having to stop herself from getting up and going back to him, finding out exactly why he had wanted her to stay. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but something about the night had wound up something in her heart and the more she thought about it, the tighter her chest felt.
She finally did find sleep in the early hours of the morning. Her dreams were warm, filled with his husky voice and the feel of his hand wrapped around hers.