IV

A/n: I finished up the chapter I've been working on this week, so I thought why not post chapter 4 a day early? Hope y'all enjoy! And happy fourth of July to those who celebrate!

She was watching him again, her eyes focused down to where he stood in the shade of the trees skinning rabbits. Merle smirked as he felt her gaze inch across the back of his neck. The little girl was a contradiction if he'd ever seen one … piss and vinegar when she felt threatened, but quiet and observant when she felt safe. Much like his little brother. Too much, if he were honest.

Sophia – at least he thought that was the name her mother had given – she was overly watchful for a twelve-year-old kid. She should be at home playing with her barbie dolls, shouldn't she? Not that he knew anything at all about pre-teen girls. Shipped off to the military to avoid jail time, he could barely remember Daryl at that age. However, he could recognize the same signs of abuse clinging to the girl which had plagued both him and his brother.

He was going to have to fix that if she were to survive in this world. He took his time preparing and storing the game in a plastic food container he'd found in the RV. They'd serve nicely for breakfast, he thought. Cooking breakfast was the least he could do to show his appreciation for Carol's hospitality.

Merle stored the container in the refrigerator and climbed the ladder to the roof, noticing how Sophia's hand instantly moved to the mother-of-pearl handle of her knife. She didn't draw it, but the intent was there should he make a move towards her. He wiped his palms on the legs of his jeans and dropped down not far from her, his back to her as he tried to appear casual. It wasn't in his nature to give his back to anyone – especially someone armed – but he felt he had to develop some trust with her sometime.

"Kinda impressive yer mama trusts y' enough t' stand watch," he began, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

Sophia shrugged. "She said we always need to be on the lookout … to keep each other safe. It's boring, but it's better than skinning rabbits."

Merle chuckled. "Don't care too much for it, right?"

"Nope," she drawled wearily, popping the 'p'. "It's really … icky. It's nearly impossible to get the blood out from under my fingernails."

He huffed a short laugh, but cut it off when her eyes narrowed. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he was making fun of her. "All part o' huntin'. You'll get used t' it." He turned his head, scrutinizing the peaches and cream skin of her brow where it had tightened in displeasure. "Yer dad ever take y' huntin'?"

Sophia shrank back in her seat, her hand gripping the hilt of her knife so hard, her knuckles whitened. She lowered her gaze and swallowed around the anger and resentment clogging her throat. "Ed Peletier never did a nice thing for anyone his entire life. So, no."

"Hey … look at me when y' talk t' me," he said in a tone far gentler than he'd ever used on his brother. Sophia flinched, but she did as he said, peering up at him from beneath her lashes. "Don't ever be afraid to look a man in th' eye. Don't let 'em think yer weak … they'll charge y' down an' take advantage otherwise. Y' do it th' right way, and it'll intimidate 'em, make 'em see yer someone t' be reckoned with."

She sucked in a deep breath and lifted her chin a notch, determination sparkling in her hazel eyes.

"Better." He waved a hand to encompass the world as a whole. "Shit out there cain't beat y' unless y' let it. And right now, th' world's all ours."

Sophia arched a dubious brow. "I'm twelve. There's no one out there who's going to take me seriously. Doesn't matter how many weapons I have or how much my mama trains me."

"I wouldn't rightly know if she's th' best one t' teach y'. What'd she do before all this happened?" Merle Dixon could be charming when he wanted and sneaky all day long. In this instance, he could be both. He was fishing for information and he was certain she'd take a snap at the line.

The girl eyed him speculatively before reaching down for her bag and pulling out two drink pouches. She giggled when he didn't have a clue as to what it was. If it didn't have a pop top or a screw off cap, he wasn't familiar with it.

"I promise it's good, Mr. Dixon," she assured him, sipping through her own tiny straw.

He was pleasantly surprised by the sweetness of the drink despite the miniature straw which made him feel like a five-year-old. But if her need to share with him made her open up, he'd drink the overly sweet beverage without complaint. "Not bad."

Sophia held the field glasses to her face as she gazed out to where her mother should be, frowning a bit. "My mom was a housewife, but …" she paused, not really wanting to tell a virtual stranger about the cruel reality of living with Ed, "she's different now."

Merle leaned back on his hands and stared below at the form of his brother sitting on the grass with a lap full of Carol. "Like she's a different person entirely?"

The girl gasped. "Yeah … how'd you know?"

He jerked his chin in Daryl's direction. "'Cause m' brother's been actin' th' same weird way."

Sophia stared at him hard. "Is it a good weird or a bad weird? Because I swear, she woke up one day and she wasn't scared anymore … of anything. It was really strange when she looked at me like I –"

"- was a ghost?" he provided, remembering how Daryl had hugged him that morning.

"Yeahhh." Sophia bit her lip, wondering if she should say more. "Did he … um … do anything odd? Mom burned breakfast and then took me out to eat before dropping me for a sleepover. Never happened before," she said with a sniff. "Nobody cooks like my mom, and it's just not like her to burn something as simple as breakfast. Then when she picked me up the next day, she started shopping. I'm not talking about groceries, back to school or even Christmas shopping. Uh-uh. She started shopping like she was trying to spend everything we had."

"Cases o' canned an' boxed food –" he added.

"Practical clothes made out of heavy material which would last –"

"Enough guns and ammo to take out a small city –"

"RV like a tank –"

Merle turned his head slowly, his wide-eyed gaze meeting hers. "Like they knew this shit was gonna go down!"

"But how could they know?" she asked suspiciously.

"That, Peach, is the million-dollar question." He was relieved his brother wasn't going crazy, but now he had to wonder how many others knew and why he'd been left in the dark.

"I gotta name, you know. It's Sophia."

Merle grinned unrepentantly. "Naw, you're a sweet lil' Georgia peach," he said, opting to change the subject. He motioned to the bow slung over the back of her lawn chair. "Y' any good with that thing? M' brother always preferred a bow t' a gun."

"Mom's been teaching me, and she's pretty good." Sophia winced as she thought of her own progress. "I'm ok with still targets, but I can't really hit it if it's moving."

"Chin up, Peach. If y' let me, I'll train y' t' be jus' as good as m' brother."

Sophia smiled for the first time since he'd met her. It caused something unfamiliar to tighten his chest, but he pushed the feeling aside, refusing to let this child get under his skin.

She tilted her head to the side, watching him closely as she took his measure. "Are you really going to stick around?" she asked, her voice whisper soft as if she hadn't really meant to say it aloud.

Merle's gaze followed Daryl as he took the laundry basket from Carol and followed her out of his line of sight towards the path which would lead them back to the camp. Even if he'd wanted to leave and find a safer place, he knew his brother would never abandon that woman and her daughter. He hadn't missed the scene Daryl had caused before when he'd found them. Merle had given up on seeing anything close to happiness on the boy's face, but now that he'd found it, he'd be a first class prick to tear him away from it.

He smirked up at the girl and shrugged a shoulder. Training her would at least relieve the boredom he knew would find him eventually, and hell … if it helped her to survive, he could chalk it up to one more good deed in his brother's eyes.

"Truth is, kid … what else I got t' do?"

*.*.*

She pressed a kiss to his stubbled jaw and smiled. The tension didn't ease from his shoulders; she knew it wouldn't until he heard the words, and her heart bled for him. The insecurity, the readiness of his body braced for her rejection …

"I've never lied to you, Daryl, and I'm not about to start now," Carol said softly. "I love you … I always have. The bond we forged on the farm when you were looking for Sophia only grew stronger. Yes, we both made mistakes, pushed each other away, but it never dampened what I felt … what I feel for you."

She missed the soft strands of his hair which she'd once run through her fingers, allowing her fingers instead to trail over his cheek in a gentle caress. "You don't have to say anything … I just wanted you to know. I couldn't die without telling you at least once." She averted her gaze down to where the fingers of her right hand fidgeted with the strap on her knife, blinking back tears. "I wasted so much time because I was afraid my feelings would push you away. That night … It was my last chance."

Carol tried to smile for him, but it twisted into more of a grimace. Her lip wibbled, and she couldn't stop the tears which spilled over her lashes. She wouldn't allow him to speak the words which would shatter her heart … she couldn't. Being his friend was enough, knowing it was the most he could give her. Without giving him the opportunity to speak, she fled, almost running back to the RV.

She stopped but for a moment, drying her tears and pasting her creepy housewife smile on her lips. When she felt more in control, she went inside, surprised to find Merle and Sophia sitting side by side on the plush sofa and glued to the news broadcast playing on the TV, a huge bowl of popcorn between them.

Sophia was instantly alert as she took in her mother's red-rimmed eyes. "Mom, what's wrong?" She looked behind Carol, her gaze searching expectantly for Daryl.

"Nothing … it's fine," she said, nodding in Merle's direction. "I'm glad to see the two of you getting along." Despite trusting the eldest Dixon to watch over Sophia, she hadn't expected to find them so comfortable with each other.

The girl's brow furrowed, anger and worry sparking hotly in her eyes. "Mom, did Daryl say something to you –"

Carol shook her head, trying to reassure her daughter. "No, nothing like that. Everything's fine. I think I'm just going to lie down for a bit."

She was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief once the door closed behind her. Sophia was apparently more adept at reading her this time around. It amazed her how different her child was without her father's influence to drag her down. Now, Carol could wallow in her own self-pity – damnit, she was due – and begin again tomorrow. There was still so much she needed to share with Daryl, plans to make and discussions to be had as to where they were headed.

The thought had barely finished when she felt the door slam against her back, making her stumble forward and catch herself before she could faceplant onto the bed.

*.*.*

Daryl stood frozen where she'd left him on the path, replaying every word she'd spoken in his mind. She loved him … him. Carol loved him! He was tempted to pinch himself to make sure he hadn't been caught up in another fantasy of her. However, he had never been that creative. Even in his subconscious, he knew he couldn't replicate the tremor in her voice or the absolute love which had been shining in her eyes.

And then she'd run.

He chuckled to himself. Carol was nearly as bad as he was when it came to running instead of facing their issues head on. She was just as afraid of rejection, but he wasn't about to let her run far. If he had to follow her on foot all the way back to Atlanta and battle through a herd of the dead, he wouldn't hesitate.

Daryl set off up the path, laundry basket still tucked against his hip. He set it down on the dinette table as soon as he crossed the threshold of the RV.

"Th' fuck y' been, lil' brother. Yer woman's all upset, so I'm guessin' y' done already stuck yer foot in yer mouth," Merle drawled, exasperation heavy in the disapproving shake of his head.

Sophia crossed her arms over her chest and glared daggers at him as she tapped angry fingers against her upper arm. Without a word, she climbed into the loft bunk and slammed the curtain closed. He'd have had to be stupid not to recognize her disdain for him.

He wasn't about to try to explain himself to a twelve-year-old or his busybody brother who watched him, just waiting for a juicy morsel of gossip to amuse him. Instead, he turned on his heel and strode purposefully towards the bedroom where he knew he'd find Carol. The door slammed against something soft, and he cursed inwardly.

He heard her stumbling steps and pushed into the room, his arms curling around Carol's waist and pulling her back against his chest, steadying her. She stiffened for a moment before his chin came to rest upon her shoulder.

"Y' gotta stop runnin' from me, woman," he whispered against the shell of her ear.

Carol fought back a shiver and turned in his arms to face him, shaking her head in abject denial, her eyes widening as his embrace tightened. "No, I wasn't –"

"Yeah, y' were. Y' cain't jus' tell me somethin' like that an' then run for th' hills." There was no possible way she could hide her emotions from him; he knew her too well. "We're not them anymore … we're not who we were before. I don't wanna be afraid or too closed off t' take a chance on us."

"It's ok," she managed to force the words past her frozen lips. "You're still my best friend, Daryl … it's enough."

"No, s'not," he whispered, refusing to let go. Daryl watched a solitary tear trek over her cheek as he loosened his grip and brushed his hand down her arm to twine his fingers with hers. He didn't want to just be her friend anymore. She was too important to him, to his very existence, to let them continue floundering through the minefield of their emotions. He held her gaze, bringing their joined hands up to rest against his chest where his heart beat frantically. "Yours."

A shaky smile formed on her lips a moment before he pulled her to him and tucked her head beneath his chin. Elation built in her chest, stealing her breath as she brought their hands to rest over her own heart to mimic his declaration, to assure him she was all in, come what may. "Yours."

He leaned back minutely, just enough so he could look down, his eyes soft and smoky as he read the happiness in her gaze. "Y' done with runnin'? We gonna make a go o' this?"

Carol smiled tenderly, running her hands along his chest on their way to his nape, pleased beyond measure when he didn't shy away from her touch. In fact, he welcomed it if she were to judge from the shiver which passed through his body. "No more running. I'm not going anywhere without you …" she leaned up and brushed her lips to his, just a feather of a caress. "… or Sophia and Merle … our family."

Daryl chased her lips, but before they could touch, his brother's insistent knock sounded on the thin wooden door. He groaned, releasing Carol so he could answer it. "What?!" he growled, more than a little irritated. He knew he was going to catch hell if the lazy smirk on Merle's face was anything to go by.

"I know y' in a hurry t' get yer dick wet –"

"Goddamnit, Merle!" Daryl snarled, his ears turning a deep shade of red as Carol hid a giggle behind her hand.

"- but I was wondering whether or not yer woman wanted us t' stay here in th' RV or if she'd rather us pitch our tents.

Carol didn't wait for Daryl to get over his embarrassment enough to respond. "No, there's no need for the tents."

Merle pursed his lips and rocked back on his heels before agreeing with a nod. "If yer sure it won't be a bother t' have us underfoot."

Daryl sighed and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "We wouldn't be here if she didn't want us, Merle."

Carol shot them both a reassuring smile. "He's right. I feel safer with the both of you here, and there will come a time – quite soon, actually – when we will be thankful to have each other." She rested a soothing hand on Daryl's forearm, determination glimmering in her eyes. "I'm going to check on Sophia and get changed for bed. There's a duffle in the closet with clothes for both you and Merle … just in case you didn't feel like grabbing your bags from the truck."

Daryl watched her go, ignoring his brother where he leaned against the door frame with a narrow-eyed glare. Instead of answering Merle's unasked questions, he retrieved the bag and rummaged through it.

"Yer an asshole, Darylina … y' know that?!"

The younger Dixon snorted. "Yup. Y' been tellin' me that all m' life. Kinda hard t' forget when y' sound like a broken record."

Daryl tossed a t-shirt and a pair of joggers at his brother, along with boxers and a pair of socks before choosing some for himself. He had to appreciate Carol's taste in clothes. They were department store quality, and his tank was cut in such a way that his scars wouldn't be visible to the prying eye.

"So, now she knows what size clothes we wear?" Merle asked, fingering the soft fabric clutched in his hands. "She knew t' be here like she was jus' waitin' for us t' show up, she's trainin' her girl t' fight those things we've been seein' on th' news, she let y' fawn all over her like y' was her husband or somethin', an' now this. Shit ain't addin' up, lil' brother."

Daryl kicked off his boots and sat down on the bed, calmly unbuttoning his shirt. "I told y' I would tell y' everythin' in th' mornin'." His eyes narrowed dangerously as he whipped the tank over his head and regained his feet, hoping they could refrain from coming to blows. It was never a good idea to give Merle the advantage. "But don't make me choose, Merle. You're my brother, my fam'ly … but she is, too. I ain't leavin' her."

"As if I'd ask y'," Merle grunted, shaking his head. "I done spent th' last five years tryin' t' make up t' y' for what th' old man did." He didn't think he'd ever be able to right the wrongs he'd committed, leaving Daryl first to go into the army and then again to a stint in jail, but he knew he'd never stop trying now that he was no longer dependent on drugs. "If she means that much t' y', I wouldn't make y' leave her behind. "'Sides, that girl's gonna need more help than what her mama can give her if she's t' survive th' hell comin' down on us."

"Merle –"

His brother pointed a finger into his chest, his eyes menacing. "But I want th' truth, brother. All of it … y' hear?"

The breath whooshed out of him as Merle left him there to finish changing. He really didn't know what to make of this reality, this Merle. Whoever or whatever had sent him and Carol back to the beginning had messed with Merle … Sophia, too. It was overwhelming to know his brother was on his side for once. He just wondered if that would still be the case once he told him everything.

*.*.*

His eyes widened, mouth falling open in terrified surprise as Carol slipped back into the room wearing nothing but a pair of skimpy cotton shorts and a strappy little tank top. A wave of heat spread from the crown of his head to the tips of his toes, his body tightening with a desire he hadn't thought himself capable of feeling. Carol carried the healthy weight she'd maintained before the turn, but he knew after months on the road, she'd grow lean muscle and sinew which would help her thrive in the new world. She wasn't the most beautiful woman to ever walk a runway, but to him, she was beyond compare. All long slender legs and supple curves wrapped up in a smile which rivaled the very sun, she was … and by some miracle, she was his.

How she had chosen him still baffled him to his very core, but he was no less thankful. Daryl swallowed audibly as he watched her move to the small dresser and apply cream to her face, the scent of vanilla - and a spice he didn't quite recognize - wafting his way.

He felt dizzy when she turned to him and smiled. That smile she reserved just for him … teasing and dazzling and all-around perfect. The scent grew stronger as he looked down to find her standing before him, her hand cradling his cheek. When had she moved so close?

"Daryl, are you alright?" she asked worriedly. "I've been calling your name for a full minute without a response."

His mouth lifted in a half-moon grin before his brain caught up and he shook off his fugue. "Uh … yeah, I'm fine. Shouldn't somebody be on watch, though?"

"Merle said he would take watch for a while. He doesn't trust the perimeter alarm I have set up until he inspects it himself in the morning," she explained as she dragged the duvet back and crawled into bed.

Still, he hesitated to join her. They hadn't discussed his own sleeping arrangements and he didn't want to presume she'd want him to stay with her. Things were still too new and overwhelming, and he had never been one to take advantage.

Carol arched a brow in his direction and patted the bed beside her, ignoring the fiery blush painting his cheeks a lovely red. She gave him the time he needed to make up his mind, reaching into the drawer of her bedside table to a small leather-bound journal.

Daryl shifted from foot to foot for a few seconds before he cursed himself for a dumbass and climbed in beside her, curious about the book. "S'that?"

She placed it in his hands and shrugged. "When I woke up … I really thought it was a dream, at first. Even when I tried to convince myself it wasn't, I was still plagued with doubt." She reached over and opened the leather cover to show him the first entry. "I wrote it all down. I was afraid if I didn't, I would forget. I didn't want to forget you."

"It's all in here?" he asked, flipping page after page and taking in her delicate scrawl.

"Everything I remember happening," she assured him. "I couldn't write about what happened at the prison after I was banished, or how y'all were captured at Terminus, or even that first night in the clearing with Negan because I wasn't there, but everything else … it's all there."

He stared at her, awestruck by her ingenuity even though he shouldn't be surprised. "Why y' givin' this t' me?"

She smiled and stretched out at his side with a yawn. "Because I know you plan to tell Merle everything and I thought it might help. I don't mind if he reads it. He's sure to doubt you at first."

Daryl snorted. "He's gonna think I'm fuckin' crazy!"

Carol giggled and reached over to turn off the lamp on her side of the bed. "It doesn't matter what your brother thinks as long as it keeps him alive."

He set the journal aside and turned the light off on his side, moving to get up to find a bed. "Gonna let y' get some sleep," he said softly, knowing she was on the cusp of sleep.

"No … stay. I've just found you again," she whispered plaintively. "Don't leave me to sleep without you."

"Carol –"

"I promise not to grope you in your sleep."

Daryl huffed out a laugh and crawled beneath the duvet with her. "Stahp. S'not like we ain't never shared a bed before." His face was nearly glow in the dark by now. "Uh … that is –"

A small laugh escaped her parted lips as she burrowed into her pillow. "I know what you meant." She sobered a moment later, a frown marring her brow. "The last time was Atlanta."

He shifted until he was sharing her pillow, her warm breath fanning over his lips in a comforting caress. He squeezed gently when she searched his hand out and twined their fingers, pulling them up to rest between them. "That ain't gonna happen this time. We're gonna fix it."

Carol sighed deeply. "I'm afraid," she admitted, something she'd never have confessed to another living soul. "What if we make an even bigger mess of it this time?"

Daryl shook his head and ran his thumb lightly over her knuckles. "Naw, this time we got th' advantage. We're gonna make this work." He leaned in and pressed his lips to her brow in a feathery-soft kiss. "Trust me."

A/n: I want to thank each and every one of you for reading and reviewing this story. After such a long absence (due to my health), to be welcomed back with such love and open arms … it means the world to me.