A/N: thank you to everyone who took time to read chap 1 of The Dream Messenger, and a special thank you to those who have reviewed - I hope you enjoy chap 2 - I would love to hear from you what you love most about Shane from TWD, please feel free to leave this in the reviews or send to me by private message - I need a little inspiration - fair warning, at the heart of this story, it is Caryl - but I am, at the moment, feeling a lot of Shane-love
The Walking Dead and identifiable characters, places, and events are not mine - no infringement is intended or implied - my stories are written out of love and a need to create and are solely for entertainment purposes
The house was beautiful. Sprawling and sparse and clean despite the thin film of dust, it would have been envied in its time. The floors were polished hardwood, the kitchen full of gorgeous counter tops and shiny appliances, each room professionally designed for photo perfect comfort and casual style. She sighed deeply, this was the kind of house that had filled her daydreams when she'd made time for them.
Daryl went into the family space just off the kitchen and returned with some bags that he tossed onto the empty counter. "Found these while we were clearing, thought you could use them." Daryl turned to scan the house and moved to close the front door. It was clear his function was guard. She quickly set about gathering clothes and supplies from the rooms, allowing Daryl to double check each one before she entered. Since the taking of the farm and his subsequent rescue of her, he'd become very protective. Taking care to always make sure he knew where she was. At first it wasn't obvious to her, but as their friendship grew, she became more and more aware of how often he looked in her direction, and looked to her during group discussions.
As the relationship between Shane and Rick became more strained with Lori's advancing pregnancy, she noticed more of an ease between Shane and Daryl, though it was obvious to her that Daryl didn't trust him. Something or things had happened at the farm that Daryl never spoke of, but she could see it in his eyes when he observed Shane from a distance. Any time Shane neared Carol, Daryl was quick to her side. It wasn't jealousy, that was clear. There wasn't the male chest puffing and word exchanges that would have hinted to that. No, she could tell, there was something else between them.
The medicine cabinets were a gold mine, as were the beauty supplies. She knew the girls would be excited tonight when the supplies were sorted. The clothes were all beautiful, but she took care to choose only those that would be both functional and last. Somehow she didn't imagine that cashmere had a place in their world now, though at the last moment she tucked a pink sweater into one of the bags, it would be nice for if they found somewhere more permanent for a while. The fishing camp they currently occupied would not be practical much longer due to the shifting herds.
While she sorted through the clothes efficiently, Daryl found a couple more bags in the closet and brought them to her. "We're gonna need something to transport the food in. Got any ideas?" He was leaning against the door frame, inspecting his crossbow and wasn't looking at her. She took a moment to scan his frame and shuddered inward slightly. He was handsome in a rugged way, and cute, yeah, cute sometimes. Especially if he was focused on something and lost the awareness that held his scowl in place. He raised his eyes when she didn't respond. "Whatcha lookin' at?"
She pointed, over his shoulder towards the room behind him. "I saw some file boxes in the office there, no one will be needing those files now, so you can empty them, and if there is a large cooler we could use another back at camp, might be one in the garage." She blushed slightly when he turned to look at the room.
"Wonder if there is anything worth getting in there, 'sides those boxes." She zipped the last bag and he moved forward to grab the bags off the bed and heft them into the hall. "Nothin' breakable, right?" He questioned as he raised the first up to throw it to the entry below.
"No, all good with those, I've got the breakables here." She motioned to the pack on her back.
The bags made a heavy thud when they struck. Daryl seemed to take pleasure in tossing them, raising each to his shoulder first before throwing them over the rail. Carol watched his muscles flex and strain with each motion. She was oddly aroused. Hadn't felt like that since she was in her early twenties probably. Life with her husband had kind of killed her interest in men. He'd become the representation of all men to her, and so she quickly found that filling her fantasy time with decorating and fashion was safer. Sure, she'd joked with the girls at the quarry about her vibrator, but that was more to bond with the group. Truth was, the thought of sex had reviled her for quite some time thanks to Ed and his careless roughness. It was only recently, free of him, and more importantly free of her moral sense of duty, that she'd started to allow her mind to drift again.
"Come and help me with these boxes. Soon enough Shane will be bustin' in here wanted to get back to the camp, and we've still gotta get the food." While Daryl emptied the boxes, she scanned the home office for something that might be of use. She found some blank notebooks and pens and shoved them into the pack on her back. Maybe Carl could use them for school work, though that had gone to the wayside once they'd lost Sophia. She supposed it was her responsibility to start it up with him again, as Lori would have her hands full with the baby. And maybe Lori would like one to keep a journal for the baby for when it was older. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to be born into a world like this, and to know history, well, that might be something treasured years down the line.
She followed Daryl down the stairs, and together they made quick work of what was left in the kitchen. Most of the canned goods had been plundered, but there were still a good number of dry goods that hadn't spoiled yet. In the garage Daryl found a stockpile of beer. When he came back from the garage struggling with a humongous cooler, she looked at him funny. A huge smile broke out on his face. "A shit-ton of beer. Good stuff. I filled this but there are some cases I'm gonna grab too. I bet if you look a bit you could find some wine in here for you. This seems like one a them houses that would have a fancy rack cooler."
She smiled at him, then took a peek behind the island. Sure enough, there it was, and full too. The wine was no longer cool, but that didn't matter. She found some reusable shopping bags and grabbed a dozen or so bottles. It seemed silly at the time, but she knew it might be nice for later. They hadn't really let down their guard since the CDC, but then again, that didn't turn out so well. She considered just leaving the wine on the counter, but Daryl was by her side grabbing up the bags before she could second guess herself. He hit the back side of his hand against her shoulder playfully. "See, I told ya. Fancy house, fancy cooler." His wide smile made her relax a bit. What, was she going to wait for the end of the world to have fun? Too late.
She helped Daryl take the bags and supplies from the house out into the yard. Shane was pulling the truck around and backing it into place near the front door. She started putting supplies in the back of the truck. Shane hopped out of the cab and was by her side selecting the heavier items to load. Daryl was in and out the front door bringing the remaining supplies. Suddenly in a clear Irish brogue she heard "I see you got your stupid fucking rope."
Shane turned and glared and Daryl. He had a bundle of rope slung over his head and one shoulder. "Is that right, Rambo?"
Daryl turned to get more from the house, but she could hear his laughter echoing in the vaulted entry. "Shit," Shane said under his breath, "I didn't think rednecks had TVs."
Carol stared at him blankly.
"Oh, sorry Carol, shouldn't have cussed like that." When she continued to stare at him, he laughed briefly. "I sometimes forget I'm in the presence of a lady. Don't suspect you watched a lot of action movies."
Carol just shrugged, and when Daryl brought out the next load, he and Shane high-fived. Their secret knowledge made her vaguely uncomfortable because she didn't get the context at all. She wished she could share this easy familiarity with someone. But what hobbies did she have? What did she like? Sophia had been her world for so long, she didn't really know who she was any more. And it made her sad.
She asked Shane to follow her to the garage to look for camp supplies, and while he was busy checking out the vehicles, she let her eyes roam the garage. She needed an interest, a new hobby. Something that she might be able to share with someone some day. She saw a dart board on the garage wall, complete with darts and a polished wooden cabinet. She removed it from the wall and carried it to the truck. At the very least it might improve her aim.
They finished loading the truck, Shane offered to drive, and Carol scooted to the middle, flanked on her right by Daryl. He slid in closer to her than he needed to, and his left knee brushed her right. "Sorry, bow needs a bit of room."
Shane glanced up and over and smiled at the two, sliding his right knee to brush her left. "Everybody ready?" Without waiting for a reply, he started the engine and eased down the driveway out to the street.
It was a good half hour back to camp, and Carol could feel the warmth of both men radiating through her pant legs. The cab of the truck suddenly felt very close. She adjusted herself up a bit, and tried to pull her knees closer together, but they were about as close as they could go. She kind of liked the touch and attention, but it also made her feel strange. Was it really necessary, was this some strange male battle that she didn't understand?