Chapter 6

Carol woke up suddenly when Sophia began to fuss. She blinked, letting her eyes focus on the afternoon haze. It was late afternoon. Much later than it should have been. The smell of dinner still lingered in the air, but the house was quiet, and the only sound coming from outside was the sharp crack of a rogue tree branch slapping the side of the house in the wind.

Carol shivered, gathering Sophia out of the bassinet and holding her close. The baby was wet and probably hungry for a bottle, so Carol quickly changed her diaper and carried her to the kitchen, where everything was cleaned up, and a plate of food was wrapped in foil on the table. She gently touched it. It was still warm, and her stomach growled at her own hunger.

Sophia's cries became more insistent, and Carol sighed softly, moving toward the counter, attempting to make the baby's bottle one-handed. It took some doing, but she managed, and the baby's face was bright red by the time she popped the nipple into her mouth, and it took a little urging, but the baby finally began to suckle, and she was surrounded in silence again.

She squinted, peering at the stove clock. It was getting late, and as she peered out the front window looking for any sign of his pickup coming up the street, but there wasn't a soul around. It was eerie, as if everyone had disappeared, as if the world had come to an end or a standstill, and she and her daughter were alone. She knew it was silly, but she shivered, nonetheless.

He wouldn't leave. That's not Daryl. Tears stung her eyes as she peered down at her daughter. Daryl hadn't left her. He'd pushed her into leaving him. He'd broken things off, but in the end, she'd been the one walking away, because she'd seen it. She'd seen the pain in his eyes. One kiss. One soft brush of a hand against his cheek. Something. Anything. She could have changed his mind. But she'd walked away. He loved me.

The front door opened and shut softly, and she hear Daryl's footsteps retreating down the hall, stopping at her bedroom door and then briskly walking back toward the living room.

"Carol?"

"Kitchen," she called softly. Daryl poked his head around the corner. "You didn't wake me for dinner."

"I tried," he said quietly, shoving his hands into his pocket. "You was so still I almost had to hold a mirror up to your nose to make sure you were still breathin'. Then ya snored, and I figured you were alright."

"I didn't snore."

"You snore," he said with a chuckle, and she felt a warmth spread through her chest, thankful he seemed to be in better spirits. She'd spent far too long trying to read Ed's moods, trying to tread carefully around him, not that Daryl would ever be anything like Ed. But she hated knowing that her being there was putting him in those moods and that he was so uncomfortable around her now. He always loved me, even when it hurt too much.

"Hey, I got somethin' for ya."

"Daryl, you don't have to…"

"Look, ya can't be cooped up in the house forever, and my boss owed me a couple favors for workin' without pay for a few weeks when things were rough. You wanna come outside with me?" Carol eyed him for a moment, and she realized she had tears in her eyes, which she quickly blinked away. His tone was soft, apologetic, and she could tell by the way he stood in the doorway, his knuckles white, that he was nervous as hell. Some things never changed. She gave him a half-smile and nodded, adjusting Sophia in her arms and making sure to keep the bottle angled right so the baby wouldn't swallow too much air.

She slowly followed Daryl out of the house, fully expecting to find that he'd gotten an infant seat installed in the truck, but what she found instead, was much more surprising. It was a small four-door car that looked to be old but in decent shape.

"Daryl? What did you do?"

"I got it dirt cheap," he said with a shrug. "Needs some fixin' up, and I can fix it. Gonna take some time, but I'll have it workin' good as new."

"Daryl, I can't accept this," she said softly, shuffling her bare feet against the cement porch. "I can't."

"Why not?" He glanced at her then.

"It's too much."

"Told ya I didn't pay much for it. My boss owed me, and…"

"It's not that," Carol said, shaking her head.

"Well, if ya don't want it for you, take it for the kid. You're gonna need to get her to doctor's appointments and…"

"Daryl," Carol said quickly, "I wish you'd asked me. I don't want to owe you anything. I feel like I already owe you too much as it is. I just…" She felt the tears brimming in her eyes again, and she swallowed hard, trying to keep her emotions in check. "It's too much. It's too big a gift." He watched her then, his eyes zeroing in on hers, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed down whatever it was he was feeling in that moment. She held Sophia close, rocking her back and forth as she held Daryl's gaze.

"You don't want it, just sell the damned thing. Do whatever you want." He moved past her then, opening the screen door and heading into the house, letting it shut loudly behind him as he walked. Carol trembled, standing there as the cool evening breeze washed over her. And then the tears fell.

The fuck were you thinkin'? She don't want nothin' from you. Why would she? You're just the worthless piece of shit that broke her heart 'cause you were too stupid to believe she'd ever want a lifetime with you. Daryl sat out on the back porch, taking a long drag on his cigarette. He felt like the world's biggest asshole. Here was this woman who had come to him, desperate for help, exhausted and healing from giving birth, and he'd not even known how to act around her.

He'd been an asshole to her over the car. But it had pissed him off. He'd paid little to nothing for it, and his boss, frankly, had just wanted to get rid of it. But Daryl knew better than Mickey. The car could be fixed up and turned into a reliable car. It just needed some work. All he'd wanted was to give it to her so she'd have something to get her from A to B, and she hadn't wanted to accept it.

He'd wanted to give her something, hoping that maybe, somehow, she'd see that he wasn't just the asshole that had sent her away, that had inevitably been the reason she'd ended up with Ed, because he was too stupid to see that just because she married a man with money, a man who could take care of it, didn't mean she would end up happy. And she hadn't. She'd ended up hurt, abused, alone, desperate. He hated Ed Peletier, and he hated himself for not holding onto her like he should have.

"Daryl." He didn't turn. But he saw her bare feet out of the corner of his eyes. She moved to sit on the step next to him. She smelled like apples and sweet tea, and he could feel her warmth as she sat so close. The fireflies were beginning to come out, and he focused on that, focused on the way the breeze washed over him, cooling his skin, though his neck felt like it was on fire.

"I'm going to pay you back," she murmured. "You don't understand. I don't…I don't need you to do these things for me. I appreciate it. I do. But I will pay you back." She swallowed hard, and she looked down at her hands that were clasped in her lap. "When I'm feeling better, feeling able to manage things alone, I'm going to start looking for work. And then I'll find an apartment somewhere."

"You don't…"

"I do," she insisted. "I can't be a burden to you. I spent my entire marriage feeling like a burden to my husband."

"Well, that ain't what you are."

"It doesn't change the way it feels," she said quietly. "And Ed. Ed made me feel like a burden. He reminded me, every chance he got, how he felt about me." She gently moved her hand to the back of her neck, rubbing her fingers gently over the bruises. Daryl looked at her then, looked at the way the bruises seemed to stand out against her pale fingers.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"You didn't do anything," she said softly. "I'm the one who's sorry. I shouldn't have…I should have explained before." She swallowed hard. "You don't have to give me anything, Daryl. Just your letting me stay here for a few days? That's…that's everything. And I don't think I could ever pay you back. I don't think you'll ever know how much it means to me." She looked away then, staring out at the fireflies, her eyes glistening as she forced the tears back. "I don't know how I let my life get so messed up."

He watched her, unable to take his eyes off the way her lip quivered, the way her chest heaved as she took a deep breath. It hit him then that she didn't blame him. She didn't blame him one goddamned bit for how her life had turned out.

He suddenly wanted to touch her, wanted to feel the warmth of her skin against his hand. He took one last drag on his cigarette before flicking it out into the yard. He suddenly reached for her, taking her chin between his thumb and forefingers. Her eyes closed at his touch, and he turned her face gently toward his.

"Why?" He studied the way the pain etched into her face as she struggled with something inside. She opened her big, blue eyes, and a tear slipped out. "Why did you just keep runnin'? Why didn't ya go somewhere else?" He watched her suck in a sharp breath. It wasn't an angry question. He wasn't telling her to go. He was genuinely curious, and she knew that, because she knew him.

"Because there's nobody else I trust more in this world that you, Daryl Dixon." The weight of it hit him like a tidal wave. He was the one that broke her heart. Broke her. And she trusted him. And all he could do was think about the way her skin felt against his hand, remember the way it felt to kiss her, remember the way he'd never been happier than when he was in her arms. Inside of her.

He pulled his hand back like he'd been burnt.

"You shouldn't trust me," he murmured, standing up quickly. "Only thing I ever did was hurt you." He turned then, walking into the house and leaving her to her own thoughts and to the fireflies flickering in the breeze.