A/N: Hello Carylers!
I have to say…it's been a seriously crazy week for me. It's been a rollercoaster ride for sure, but I am so thankful to everyone who has been there for me through it all. You guys are truly amazing!
As I had mentioned before, I have been having some family issues lately, and then a few days ago I did something without thinking about it first and ended up hurting someone I really respect and it just made my world turn upside down. After wallowing for two straight days over it, I decided (with the help and support of others in my wonderful Tumblr community) that I did what I could do to right the wrong and if this person couldn't forgive me then it was just something I would have to accept. Somehow, out of the ashes of that horrible event came some truly wonderful gifts as well. Just this morning I got an incredible note from my beautiful wonderful friend (you know who you are) telling me how wonderful she thinks I am and I seriously started bawling…like big fat ugly tears with snot running down my face and everything. Then not ten minutes later, I found out that Melissa McBride is coming to a convention not too far from where I live in early March and I just purchased tickets to go so that I can finally meet the astounding woman in person. I honestly can't wait, but I'm also scared that the minute I see her I'm going to either A-scream and turn bright red, B-start ugly crying and not be able to talk, or C-tell her to call the producers on the show so that I can yell at them for making us all go through this horrible journey without her and depicting Carol as a brutal killer. Hopefully by then I'll be able to keep my emotions in check and not scare her!
So back to the story…I had wanted to make a point of this back in chapter 1 but kind of forgot about it, but in case you're all wondering, this is—at least in MY mind—an AU story. I know it's mostly based on the same locations and people, but you will begin to see some major differences from the show in this chapter for sure. For one thing, I'm pretending that most of season 4 really hasn't happened. There are no 'other survivors' in my mind for this…no crazy kids, no Governor attack, etc. There was DEFINITELY no Rick throwing Carol out of the prison scenario. I know he's on everyone's crap list right now, but I still enjoy writing aspects of Rick and he will be mentioned in this chapter. In fact, it should pretty much explain what happened at the end of the last chapter so hopefully you'll be cool with it. I STILL can't believe how things are working themselves out with this story! It's like a dream…a beautiful, wacky, wonderful dream that I hope will never end!
Anyway, that's all for now. Sorry for my crazy rantings. Please go off and read ;-)
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
WDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWD
A game? What the hell was I thinking?
Daryl tried to shake off the feelings of anger and resentment he was currently drowning in as he shuffled through the never-ending stack of boxes in the cellar, trying desperately to get his mind off of what had just occurred. That stupid wine had opened him up to talking, but it'd also opened him up to rejection. He should've known it wouldn't end well when alcohol was involved. It never did.
From the minute he'd heard that damn giggle come spewing out of Carol's mouth, he'd fallen hook line and sinker. She looked as carefree as he'd ever seen her in that moment, and both of them had their guards down for the first time in a long time. She had never looked more amazing to him in that moment, and he'd almost let himself get caught up in it too. It would have been so easy to take advantage of it, but that was the problem…he would be taking advantage. She was definitely further along on the tipsy scale than he was, and his conscious was getting the best of him.
She's only acting this way 'cause she's drunk.
It was the one thing that kept repeating over and over in his head as he contemplated changing things up with her for good. He sure as hell didn't want to kiss her and then have her wake up regretting it in the morning. He nearly pissed himself when she pressed her body up next to his; her eyes telling him that she was all in. His gaze had broken away from hers as he looked down at her parted lips, trying frantically to keep the notion in his head that this wasn't really her doing this. The booze was dictating her actions and he knew it. It had been damn near painful to do, but at the very last second he had managed to pull away, his eyes searching for the one thing that might just save them both.
The look on her face when he'd asked her for the peanuts had been hard to take and it made him feel like a chump, but it was better than getting a shot to the groin for trying to grope her. He needed to keep his wits about him if he was gonna stand a chance of getting out of this house with his manhood still intact. She'd pulled away then too, her brain apparently becoming aware of what it was trying to do.
"Maybe we should just…do something else."
"Like what?"
"How about a game?"
A game wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind, but if it would keep her distracted until the effects of the alcohol wore off, he was in. He was just grateful she hadn't reacted to his stupid move of asking her to play spin the bottle…not that her idea had been much better. Playing a lame kiddie questions game didn't exactly thrill him, but he figured it was at least safe territory. It had started out innocently enough, each of them asking the other a question on which thing they preferred. In truth, he'd probably asked her harder questions than he needed to, but it pretty much came down to the first thing that popped into his head.
He thought of the motorcycle not because he was worried about his own, but because he suddenly remembered why he'd suggested they take it on their run that morning. Sure the Jeep was more convenient with protection from the cold and storage space, but it didn't give them the opportunity to be close like he sometimes wanted. The feeling of her straddling the bike behind him, with her legs pressed up against his and her arms tightly around his waist was about as good as it got in his book. Around the prison, they had to keep the touchy feely stuff to a minimum or everyone started talking. One time he'd come up behind her at the food station, leaning in to see what she was cooking and accidentally ended up with his lips brushing against her neck. People had teased them mercilessly for days and he'd tried to play it off, but his face had turned so red that he knew it really wasn't fooling anyone. Carol had been more than understanding about it all too, which actually made it worse. She could've at least pretended to be mad at him for their sake. It had only made it harder not to want to do it again.
The questions had gotten more complicated as they went along, with both of them less aware of what was likely to come flying out of their mouths. She'd put a wild visual in his head when she'd asked about showers versus baths. No matter which way he spun it, all Daryl could see was an image of her standing naked in a stream of water; her skin glistening under the beads of water that rolled down her body as she lathered up with soap starting with her shoulders, down to her breasts and stomach, moving down to her hips and further south to the place he so desperately wanted to be. The image alone made his dick spring to life uncomfortably in his pants, but it had worn off quickly when she mentioned that her sad excuse for a dead husband liked to take baths. Talk about a fucking mood killer.
Some of the answers had been simple. Blue or green? Easy. Blue, just like her eyes. Dirty or clean? When the hell had she ever seen him clean in her life? Of course, there had been another implication involved in that response, and he hadn't missed the slight hint of pink that bloomed on her cheeks when she realized it. Cake or pie? He smiled at this one. Over the summer, Carol had managed to surprise everyone at the prison by finding enough supplies to make a couple of pies with fruit they had picked from the garden and some other things she had found on a run they'd done together. He'd volunteered to be the guinea pig and test the first batch for her, watching her eyes light up as he took the first bite and trying hard not to look like a complete dork as he realized how good it felt to be eating something he thought he'd never get to taste again. It had been perfect until she'd lifted her hand to his face, using her thumb to wipe a crumb off his chin. The motion startled him, causing him to hit the pie tin with his hand and dump it all over the floor. She'd forgiven him once again, claiming that accidents happened and she'd just make another, but he'd avoided the food station when she was cooking for days after that, worried he'd just end up making an ass of himself again. It had been a disaster in most respects, but he knew he'd never forget that moment or the look on her face when he took that bite. It had also prompted his response to her first question.
Strawberry. Just like the pie.
Grunting in his frustration, Daryl tossed some of the lighter boxes towards the back of the space, trying to get them out of the way. There was so much shit down here that it almost just wanted to bury himself in it, hoping she'd just forget he was down here and leave him alone. There was no scenario he could work out that would end up playing out well for him by the end of all of this. It was bad enough that he was trying to hide from her again, but he knew it wouldn't last either. If he stayed down here much longer, she was gonna come after him and probably kill herself trying to get down those steps. Why'd she have to be so damn concerned about everyone else but herself? Gone were the days of him being able to go off on his own and brood over things. She knew him too well now. If he so much as got a look of annoyance on his face, she was there trying to calm him down and make him see reason. He tried for her sake to put up with it most days, but right now it was fueling his rage. It would've been so much easier if she just didn't care at all about him at all. At least then he could move on and figure out something else. Standing by watching someone and knowing they'd never feel the same way back was about the worst damn feeling ever.
He should have known that she would've picked Rick. He was what every woman wanted…smart, brave, good-looking, and loyal to a fault. He'd nearly gone insane after losing his wife and was trying to raise two kids in the hell surrounding them, knowing that one of them might not even be his own. It was in his blood to be the good guy. Why would Carol want anything else but the best after all she'd put up with?
Despite his anger, he couldn't blame her. He'd treated her like shit one too many times for her to ever feel that way back about him. It had been one thing when he'd helped man the search for Sophia and tried to act like he knew what the hell he was doing, but in the end he hadn't been able to save her baby girl and he'd given her crap on top of it. She had told him that she never blamed him for any of it, but he knew deep inside that she had to. If he'd been smart enough to chase after her as soon as he saw her run down that embankment, they would've gotten to her sooner and she wouldn't have gotten bit. Next to having to put Merle down after he'd turned, it was Daryl's biggest regret in life. Now he could add putting the woman he cared about in danger and asking stupid questions to the list.
So why'd you ask her if you didn't wanna know the answer?
Deep down, he knew why. It had been triggered by her question to him. The one that had made him momentarily lose track of his thoughts and misread her reasoning. The one that had given him hope that there might have been more to what she was really asking him.
Blonde or brunette.
The real answer would have been neither, but she'd already made it clear that he wasn't supposed to give backhanded responses. Besides, it would immediately give him away. He thought about it for a moment, taking in the shade of her short, now wavy silver-toned locks and figuring that it was too deep a shade for her to have been a blonde before. He also didn't detect that she'd been a redhead or she would've had more freckles. Something in his gut was telling him that brunette was the best option, but he couldn't exactly ask her to clarify either. Either way, as soon as he said it, he immediately wished he could take it back.
"Like Maggie right?"
Daryl had tried to hide his surprise, but he'd known what she was asking him. She wanted to know if he'd been thinking about Maggie the way that he thought about her. It wasn't any secret that Maggie was a beautiful woman, but he'd never really given her any thought past the point that she and Beth were Herschel's daughters and he'd do anything in his power to keep their family unit alive. He really hadn't worried about her since they were back on the farm, knowing that she could handle herself just fine when it came down to it. Hell, he probably worried more about Glenn than Maggie…and she was married for Christ sakes! Did Carol really think that he was that much of a creeper that he was having fantasies about newly married women on his spare time? If he wanted to think about women, there were plenty of other single ones around he could've focused on instead. Besides, why would he bother when he knew no one would return the favor? There had to be something more to what she was asking.
She's jealous.
He wanted to say it out loud, and he almost did, but thank god what little brain power he had left stopped him before it came out. He never would've lived that one down. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he realized something. Lately it seemed that when Carol was flirting with him, Rick always seemed to be right there watching. Rick had been there when she'd kissed his cheek last week after he'd cleared off the dishes in an attempt to try and help her get settled after they'd eaten. Rick had been there when they'd had a close call in the tombs on their way out to the main cell block and she'd squeezed his hand after he'd called all clear. Rick had even been close by when she'd offered to attempt to give him a haircut, playing with the long strands around his face like he was some kind of a damn Barbie doll. Suddenly, it dawned on him…he had been seeing those moments from the wrong perspective.
Carol wasn't flirting with him. She was trying to make Rick jealous by using him to get to the man she really wanted to be with.
Call it a combination of the wine and his own stupidity, but suddenly he had to know. Before he knew it, the words had come tumbling out like vomit and she was staring back at him with utter bewilderment etched on her face while the seconds ticking by like the countdown to his life ending. The confusion seemed to change over to reasoning and then she broke contact, her face dipping down like she didn't want him to see her expression, and just like that, he knew.
She didn't have to verbalize it. Her silence was saying it all.
He was up within half a second, his mind reeling as he tried to get out of the room before she could see the devastation on his face. He'd made up some half assed excuse just like she had, blaming it on the wine. Then suddenly he was back down in the basement, trying like hell to fight off the embarrassment of the moment. It hadn't stuck around long, and was now being replaced by a mixture of anger, frustration and self-loathing. How had he let things get this far? He'd never needed a woman before…why was this one so damn important? It wasn't like she was even that special in the grand scheme of things. So why her?
Why her?
There was no easy answer for that question. He didn't know why the hell he felt anything anymore. After losing the only family he'd had, he should've just kept on walking, but he didn't. Something about her kept bringing him back over and over again, but maybe now it was time to start cutting the strings. It was selfish, but he didn't think he could stand by and watch her make the moves on one of his best friends. He sure as hell didn't want to be there the day that Rick realized what was going on and started returning the favor.
Sitting down on one of the chairs he'd cleared, Daryl put his face in his hands. His head was pounding and the lack of sleep the night before was starting to get to him. He needed to rest if he was gonna be able to deal with any of it. Maybe if he got these boxes up to her, it'd distract her for long enough that he could get in a quick nap. Grabbing a couple of the lighter ones, he threw them up to the top of the stairs then made his way up carefully back into the kitchen. To his surprise, she wasn't there at the door waiting for him this time. He stacked the boxes and shuffled them over into the hallway, but as he turned to push them into the living room, he halted. Carol was curled up in a ball on the floor with her blanket wrapped up tightly against her with only the top of her head sticking out. Her breathing was deep and even, telling him that she wasn't faking it…she really had fallen asleep.
Apparently I was down there longer than I thought.
Moving the pile of boxes as quietly as he could over to the corner of the door, he crept in slowly and went over to the couch just above where she was napping. He grabbed his blanket and a couple of pillows to support his back and got settled, feeling exhaustion quickly overtake him.
When they woke up again, things would be different. He hated knowing that he couldn't just go on pretending that he didn't know how she felt, but he couldn't exactly change her mind either. Closing his eyes, Daryl let the weight of the decision go and let sleep take over.
I gotta let it go…she was never mine to begin with.
A/N: I hope you all enjoyed Daryl's lovely angst. I honestly think this is my favorite chapter so far. It came flowing out of me like he was sitting right next to me telling me what to say. I love it when that happens (hehe) The next chapter will be strictly Carol so I look forward to putting that out soon.
Before I go, I need to recommend some more stories (yay reading!) and I want to point out a couple of writers in particular. In case any of you haven't already seen it (which I'd think is almost impossible if you follow me on Tumblr bc I'm constantly ranting about it) PLEASE go read adelicateflower08's new story "And The Hunter Was Happy"…she's one of the big reasons I'm so emotional right now. On top of this only being her second foray into writing, she has now produced 7 chapters in less than a week, and the last one seriously broke my love feels. It's awesome and you all need to read it!
The next one is subversivegrrl, who I accidentally forgot to mention last time but who has written plenty of awesome stories (my favorites so far are Phobias, Tomorrow is a Long Time, and Threshold) and muthawalker, who made my ovaries explode with her heated tale called "Evolving". I was also sad to see that "Dog Days of Dixon" by Silver Dog Demon finally ended but it was one of my favorite AU stories of all time, and also "Overcoming Loneliness" by vickih, which I believe is now also finished. If you haven't checked those out either, please do.
So lovely job ladies, and I can't wait to read more later! LLACO!
