Daryl leaned his head back and tried to ignore the painful throbbing in his leg. "Dammit I hope she finds my pants or this whole fucking situation was for nothing."
He knew at the time that going into the jewelry store was stupid. They had agreed to get in and out quick, only grabbing essentials. But he couldn't resist looking knowing the opportunity may never arise again. Daryl had found exactly what he was looking for. The store hadn't been looted. Really, who needs jewelry during the zombie apocalypse right? He had to smash the lock to get into the glass case and the noise is likely what drew the walkers into the store. Daryl had thought of that, but figured he would be long gone before they ever arrived.
But the lock had been more secure than he anticipated and it took a few good hits to smash it off. By the time Daryl had the object in his hand the walkers had closed in. He stuffed it in his pants pocket and the rest was a blur after that. He could distinctly remember the fiery burn when the glass sliced open his leg. And the incredible amount of pain when he fell, breaking his leg. Daryl remembered shooting a walker to save Glenn and being pissed off when no one retrieved the bolt for him. After that there was only bits and pieces. Being carried to the car, yelling at Glenn to bring his bike, Maggie sitting with him in the back seat, pressing on the leg wound. Daryl wondered if she knew how badly pressure on a broken leg hurt? He remembered Michonne driving like a maniac and after that, nothing.
Nothing, until he woke to Carol smiling down at him. In the grand scheme of things it had been a pretty nice way to wake up. Her smile did something to him that felt good. But even that couldn't mask the pain in his leg. But when he looked down and realized his pants were missing he damn near lost his mind. He couldn't tell Carol why he needed them so badly, and he hoped that she would just bring them back without searching the pockets. She was looking at him like he was crazy and Daryl couldn't blame her. But he also couldn't explain, he just needed her to get the pants and bring them back. He just couldn't let it all be for nothing.
Daryl moved his leg a bit and felt a wave of nausea. He took a few deep breaths and focussed on something else. "What am I going to tell her when she brings them back? They were my lucky pants?" Daryl snorted, "yeah then she's going to think you're even more fucking insane than she already does." Daryl hoped she would just bring them back and not press the issue.
Carol jogged through the prison in search of Maggie. Beth was the first person she ran into. "Have you seen your sister?" she asked, slightly breathless.
"I think she went outside with Rick to burn those bloody sheets."
"Shit," Carol swore under her breath eliciting a look from Beth since Carol rarely cussed. "Can you do me a favor?" Carol asked. "Can you go visit Daryl? He's awake and I'm sure he could use some cheering up." Beth nodded. Carol said thanks and took off for outside. Carol knew that Beth and Daryl had developed a special relationship as of late. Beth looked up to him and Daryl enjoyed having her around. Carol knew that if anything ever happened to Hershel that Daryl would likely become a father figure to Beth. Right now though, he was like the cool Uncle. And Uncle Daryl could definitely use some cheering up from someone Carol knew he would never get angry with.
Carol smiled to herself. "This way if I don't find the pants in time he's not going to lose his temper with Beth there." When Carol got outside she headed to the barrel where they burn stuff. She peeked in and sighed with relief. They hadn't started the fire yet. She fished around and pulled out the jeans. She quickly folded them up and headed back inside. Rick and Maggie appeared from around the corner. "I thought you would still be with Daryl," Maggie said with a look of concern.
Carol stopped. "I gave him a few minutes with Beth. I know she was pretty upset. I'm headed back there now though." She tried to hide the pants nonchalantly to avoid questions she couldn't answer. She started to walk away then remembered something. "Rick, can you find Michonne and let her know Daryl is awake and he's going to be fine?" Carol didn't wait for a reply before she ran off.
Both Beth and Daryl were smiling when Carol slipped back into the room. She kept the jeans behind her feeling like a damn smuggler. Daryl glanced her way and she gave a small nod to let him know she had the pants.
"Hey Kiddo, I need to talk to Carol, ok?" Daryl said quietly to Beth.
"Sure." She stood up. "I need to go check on Carl and Judith anyway. She's probably hungry and some days she only eats for me." Carol watched her leave with a smile, impressed by her commitment to looking after a baby at such a young age. But they all did what was needed of them and it just happened to be Beth's place at the time.
Once Beth had left Carol walked over and held out the pants. "Now are you going to tell me what this is all about?" she asked.
"No," Daryl said simply.
"But..." Carol started.
"Just drop it," he replied, an edginess in his voice that he hadn't used with her in a long time. Carol couldn't hide her reaction. She didn't want to upset him but his words had stung. "I'm sorry." His voice was softer. "Can you just trust me if I promise I'll tell you eventually?"
Carol sighed. He had played the trust card and she would respect it. Trust was an important part of their relationship because it had taken a long time for either of them to trust anyone after what they had gone through in the past. "Fine," she agreed with only the slightest amount of reluctance.
"Good. Now can you please put these in my cell so no one else starts asking questions."
Carol gave him a look but took the pants and headed to his cell. The desire to search the pockets was overwhelming but Daryl's voice rang in her ears, "Trust me... Trust me... Trust me." She found a half empty drawer in a stand beside his bed and tossed them inside. "Men," she grumbled out loud closing the drawer firmly.
While Carol was gone Hershel arrived to check on Daryl. "Oh good you're awake how's the pain?" he asked.
"Hurts like a mother fu..." Daryl caught himself in time and let his voice trail off out of respect.
"I have a few pain meds left still. I'll go get them."
Daryl stopped him, "Nah, save em for someone who needs them. I'll survive."
Hershel nodded and pulled up a chair beside him. "I need you to listen to me Daryl," he said seriously. "Your leg was bad. I've done the best I can but the only way it's going to heal is if you take it easy for at least 6 weeks."
"6 weeks? Are you shittin me?" Daryl forgot to watch his potty mouth this time. "There's no way in hell I can sit around for 6 weeks. There's shit that has to be done."
"I'm afraid you don't have a choice, unless you want to end up like me." Hershel paused then added with a smile, "It was hard enough to find one prosthetic." Daryl didn't reply and even the joke didn't elicit a smile. He stared at Hershel with a scowl. Hershel continued. "There are going to be a lot of things you can't do on your own, especially at first. Getting in and out of bed, bathing, going to the bathroom..."
A look of horror crossed Daryl's face, followed by a reddening of the cheeks. "Aw fuck no," he muttered.
Daryl hadn't even noticed that Carol had returned until Hershel glanced in her direction. "I have asked Carol to help out."
Daryl shook his head, "no way!" He looked over at her and the redness in his cheeks deepened. "I'll figure it out myself," he insisted. "I always have."
He watched as Carol and Hershel exchanged a glance. "Daryl please, you have to let me help, there's no one else. With you hurt we need Rick,Glenn, Maggie, Tyreese, and Michonne to work even harder. You know it's too much for Hershel."
Daryl didn't want help from any of them. He glared at her, "No way," he said again.
Carol's face changed and Daryl certainly wasn't prepared for what came next. She stomped up to his side, looked him straight in the eye and said, "you are going to listen to me." It was a tone of voice he had never heard and Daryl found himself listening. "You cannot do this alone. Like it or not you've got me. So suck it up princess, you're stuck with me for the next 6 to 8 weeks!" He heard Hershel snort and shot him a look.
He knew Carol was stubborn, maybe even more stubborn than he was. She wasn't backing down and Daryl wasn't ready to give in but he found himself suddenly way too tired to fight. "Can we get me to my own damn bed somehow?" he asked, changing the subject while trying to fight off a yawn.
"I'll go find us some help," Hershel said.
When he was gone Carol turned to him. "It's really not going to be that bad," she said gently.
"Easy for you to say." Daryl looked at her as he replied. Looking into her eyes always calmed him and even then, with everything, he still felt a little calmer just by looking at her.
Hershel arrived with Rick and Tyreese and after some awkward maneuvering and a blinding amount of pain Daryl was finally in his own bed.
Daryl pulled the blanket over himself. He was wearing nothing but boxers on the bottom and was feeling quite exposed.
The guys left and only Carol remained. She pointed to the drawer beside his bed, silently acknowledging where she had put the pants.
"I'll be back soon, try to get some rest," she said. Daryl watched as she went to leave, then came back to straighten his blankets. Once she seemed satisfied that he was securely tucked in she left.
As soon as she was gone he reached for the drawer. The movement sent a wave of pain coursing through his entire leg but he persisted until he had the pants out. He reached in the pocket and smiled when he found what he was looking for still there. He had some work to do, but Daryl was sure it was going to turn out perfectly. He placed the object back into the drawer and closed it again.
Daryl tossed the jeans towards the corner of his cell just as Carol entered once again, "oh," she said, jumping in surprise and dropping the large piece of foam she had been carrying. Daryl noticed there were still blankets tucked under her arm.
"What's going on?" he asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.
"Surprise!" Carol said with a big smile. "I'm moving in Roomie."
"Ah naw. That is not happening."
Carol rolled her eyes, "It's not up for discussion." She picked up the foam and started to make room for it on the floor.
"Seriously, you can't sleep here," Daryl tried again.
Carol continued to prepare her bed. "And what if you need something in the middle of the night? Gonna get up and walk?" she shot him a look. Daryl growled in frustration, mostly because he knew she was right. Carol paused, titled her head and looked at him. "You look like crap. Get some sleep."
Carol was bending over fixing her blankets and Daryl couldn't help but stare at her ass. "Fuck," he thought, closing his eyes. When he opened them again she was taking off her boots and socks. Daryl closed his eyes again wondering how he could be so turned on by her taking off her fucking boots. Thankfully when he opened his eyes again she was safely tucked into her bed.
Carol looked up at him from her spot on the floor. "I'm even going to put up with your snoring 'cause I care that much about you," she teased, laughing when she made him blush as usual. "Night Daryl."
He waited a minute to reply. "Carol," he paused. "I have to piss."