He never thought he'd be the domestic type. He hadn't had a woman cook for him, do his laundry, or clean up after him since he was a kid and he never thought he wanted it. He figured he'd hate having somebody looking out for him, that it would be suffocating and make him want to escape out into the quiet safety of the woods.
But with Carol, it wasn't like that at all. It was natural. Comfortable. Right.
Except for the fact that the food she'd been cooking for him and the washing machine she'd been washing his clothes in had both been bought with her husband's money. And the bathroom she had him washing up in was the same one her husband showered in every night. The same one, in fact, that he'd almost caught them in.
He'd tried not to dwell on that too much and it had been surprisingly easy to forget about it, to pretend that he belonged there with her.
But he didn't and he knew it.
The wrench in his hand slipped and his knuckles scraped against unforgiving metal and protruding bolts, splitting open the thin skin.
"Fuck," he hissed, dropping the damned wrench with a clatter and reaching for his grease rag.
"You know I don't like that word."
He looked up in surprise to see her leaning under the hood to smile at him, waving a brown paper bag as if to entice him away from the engine. She didn't need food to lead him away, her smile was enough.
But still she'd brought him lunch to the garage every day since Ed had gotten home. It was their only time together and even though it wasn't much he found himself looking forward to it every day.
He reached out to take the bag from her and she shook her hand, moving it just out of his reach.
"Oh, no you don't! Go wash your hands first."
He grunted his annoyance but did as he was told, scrubbing at his hands with the Lava soap until the skin was red and stinging.
He stepped out of the bathroom to find she'd unwrapped his sandwich for him and popped the tab on a cold can of Coke. He had to fight back the grin tugging at the corner of his lips when she turned towards him with a proud smile and patted the space beside her on the bench.
He sat just close enough to feel the soft warmth of her body at his side and took a big bite out of the sandwich, suddenly feeling hungry enough to eat a horse. The sandwich was ham with extra cheese on white bread, no pickles and no mayonnaise just like he liked it. She had even cut the crusts off even though he'd never asked her to. He would never have admitted he hated them. She just knew.
Just outside the open door, a chubby little boy in a baseball cap skipped across the parking lot after his father, giggling as he turned his face up towards the sun.
Daryl glanced over to find Carol smiling fondly, her eyes bright as they followed the kid across the lot.
"You'd make a good mama," he mumbled around a mouthful of food, averting his gaze abruptly as she turned that strange smile on him that made his chest feel tight.
"You think so?" she beamed, waiting for him to nod before she continued, "I've always wanted kids. Just…not now. Not with-"
She cut herself off, meeting his eyes sadly as he struggled to swallow and clear his throat.
"So, how about you then?" she asked after a moment, "You want kids?"
He snorted and took another bite out of his sandwich, "Wouldn't be fair to the little bastards to have a daddy that's dumb as a rock and ugly as sin."
The words tasted bad on his tongue and took him back to a time when his father was still around, wielding a belt and a venomous tongue.
Her head snapped towards him, her jaw dropping, and he felt a twinge of embarrassment at her shocked expression.
"You don't really believe that do you, Daryl?" she asked softly, her brows furrowed as she reached out to place her warm little hand on his arm.
He shrugged and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, staring down at the sandwich clutched in his hands because it was easier than meeting her eyes.
"Daryl, look at me," she said firmly and he felt her fingers on his jaw, tilting his face over towards hers, "You're not dumb and you sure aren't ugly. You're…you're just about the best man I've ever met."
He snorted again, feeling the heat rising in his cheeks, and tried to jerk his chin free of her grasp. But she was persistent, chasing his eyes with her own.
"You are," she told him decisively, "And I think you'd make a wonderful father."
He stilled under her gaze as her touch softened to caress his jaw and pat his cheek before falling away. It sounded like she meant those words and as much as he wanted to like the sound of them, they were too foreign. Too strange.
He swallowed hard and took another bite out of his sandwich even though he wasn't hungry anymore. It was suddenly like ash in his mouth.
They were quiet for a moment as he finished eating. Quiet enough to hear the laughter of that little boy as he followed his father back out to their car.
He caught Carol staring again, smiling as she watched the boy hopping up and down impatiently while his father unlocked the car door.
"I always wanted a house full of them," he heard her say wistfully, reaching up to fiddle with the cross around her neck.
He wasn't planning to say the words but they came out anyway.
"Maybe you'll get 'em someday."
She looked surprised for a moment and he almost chewed right through his bottom lip as she turned to stare at him. But then she just smiled, squeezed his knee, and looked back out at the parking lot.
He was standing in the open garage door waving goodbye to her when he heard footsteps approaching from behind.
He grimaced as a heavy hand landed on his shoulder but he didn't take his eyes off her until the Cherokee was out of sight.
Then he turned to see one of the other mechanics, a guy named Johnny, staring at him with an odd expression.
"Look at you, boy. Looks like you got it bad."
Daryl just grunted, shrugging the man's hand off his shoulder as he turned away from him. He didn't like Johnny, wasn't sure anybody liked that slimy bastard, and he sure as hell didn't intend to discuss his love life with him.
"And here we was all thinking you was some kind of monk. Celibate or some shit."
Daryl stooped over to pick up his tools, groaning internally as he heard Johnny's footsteps follow him.
"But tell me this, boy. Why you chasing after a married woman?"
He froze, the wrench slipping right out of his hand to land on top of the others before he snatched it up again.
"You did know she was married right? To Ed Petelier? She tell you that?"
Daryl didn't reply, didn't even acknowledge that he'd heard the man, but his heart was pounding. He didn't like where this was going.
"He's a mean sumbitch. Kin to the sheriff too, in case you didn't know."
He hadn't known. Not that it mattered.
"Guess I just wanted to say you might wanna be careful. Y'all ain't invisible, you know. Ain't being too sneaky either, sitting out here in the open where anybody could see you-"
That was it.
Daryl stood up abruptly, cutting the man off mid-sentence. His fists clenched, fingers tightening around the wrench resting in his palm until the cold metal bit into his flesh. The muscles in his shoulders and down his arm twitched as he fought the urge to slam the tool into the other man's face.
"You threatening me, asshole?" he spat out, taking a step forward until they were squared up, toe to toe.
Johnny threw his hands up and took a quick step backwards, "Hey man, I'm just looking out for you!"
Daryl stared him down through eyes narrowed to slits, waiting for him to twitch or turn away.
He did neither. The little shit-eating grin on his face just pissed Daryl off more.
The silence was thick between them. He could hear the clock ticking on the wall, counting off the passing seconds. Sweat was beading up on his forehead and his neck, slick under the collar of his shirt, but he wasn't going to be the first to back down.
Finally Johnny gave in, backing away a few steps before turning to head back to the van he'd been working on. Daryl's body relaxed a little, fingers loosening around the wrench as a breath he hadn't realized he was holding rushed out of his lungs.
He was just about to duck under the hood to get back to work when he heard Johnny's voice echo across the garage.
"I just wouldn't wanna be you if ol' Ed finds out you're knocking boots with his wife."