A/N: Hi everyone! I'm back! I will be honest, this chapter literally gave me hell. I haven't been in the greatest of places. (I had surgery, family problems and I moved, all within the space of about 10 days. I've been trying to recover for weeks now. *sigh*) Finding motivation to write has been really, really tough, so I'm sorry for the delay. On top of that, this is a hard chapter, mostly because it's a "get from Point A to Point B" kind of chapter. I'm not entirely happy with it, but if I keep fiddling with it this story will never get done, so I'm saying to hell with it and posting this so I can move on to the good stuff!
Several things, however: First, thanks to everyone who voted in the 4theloveofcaryl contest on tumblr. This fic won Best Original Story and Best Reunion! I am insanely touched and delighted. You guys are amazing. Thank you! Kudos to Kaye for running such a fun contest. You're awesome!
Also, on tumblr the U.S.S. Caryl had a delightful 'what if?' Caryl challenge, which turned out to be a lot of fun. I ended up submitting 2 ficlets, "Lost Chances" and "Kittens and Lions", both of which can be found on here on FFnet. This actually got the creative juices flowing again for this story, so thanks Muse!
If you're not reading Noxid Anamchara's "The Heart of Sky Country" or Peta2's "Somewhere Out There", you should be. Amazing Caryl fics, both of them. Stop what you are doing and go read both of those. Actually no - read this first and THEN go read those.;)
Thanks for sticking with me, poor updater that I am. I swear, I'll get better. I love all of you. CARYL ON!
Chapter 9: Telling Tales
It wasn't a fairy tale. For one, he was so tired he was about to fall over. She smelled like blood, the iron tang of it filling his nostrils and making his head spin. Her skin was rough and cold against his as he buried his face against her neck, tasting the salt and grit of sweat, dirt and rain covering her from head to toe. Her ripped, grungy clothes snagged on his callused fingers, making them itch. His body was aching, the past days of being on the hunt wearing him down to where even her small frame felt heavy in his arms. He simply pulled her tighter against him, the tips of her boots skimming across his feet as he lifted her slightly. Her pulse thrummed under his lips like the wings of a hummingbird, fast and furious and alive. It wasn't a fairy tale...but this was exactly what he'd been looking for. The whole world was a nightmare, and he'd never been born for fairy tales anyway. What he wanted was right here, in front of him. Carol. Daryl never wanted to move.
The whispers drifting in from the living room reminded him that he and Carol had an audience. Carol had obviously had the same thought; he felt her tense before slowly pulling away from him. Daryl lifted his head and grasped her chin lightly in his fingers, tilting her face up slightly to meet her eyes. They burned, clear and bright through the layer of filth covering her face, seeing right through him as they always had. He could see the dozens of things she wasn't saying out loud: her exhaustion, her fear, the untold horrors of the last several days, how hard she'd pushed herself, her joy at finding them and being found. He wanted to fall to his knees before her, bow before the quiet courage that poured out of her and let the onslaught of emotion overwhelm him, let her deem him worthy, a man of honor, with a single touch of a graceful fingertip. Carol. Carol Carol Carol.
"Carol." Rick, his voice reverent with surprise and awe, broke their spell and they finally looked away from each other to see Rick, Maggie and Michonne standing near the overturned table in the living room, watching the reunion on the staircase. Carol pulled herself out of his arms; without a thought, Daryl's hand reached out and snatched at her arm, desperate to keep some form of contact with her for fear she might disappear in front of him. She wrapped her fingers around his wrist, silently reassuring him she wasn't going anywhere.
"Hey guys," she said softly. She pulled lightly on his arm and Daryl bent over swiftly to grab his crossbow as she started to lead him down the stairs. Maggie ran up to Carol and latched on like a starfish, almost knocking them all down with the strength of her hug as she started babbling excitedly.
"Carol, oh my god I am so happy to see you. Is Glenn with you? Have you see my dad? What about Beth? What the hell happened?! We've been so worried. Please tell me Glenn is with you-"
"Where's Carl? Is Carl with you? Is he ok? What about Judith? Carol, do you have Judith with you?" Rick's voice overlapped with Maggie's, both of them suddenly frantic as they bombarded Carol with questions. Daryl twitched, all nervous energy from the last bits of adrenaline still working its way through his system. Suddenly, selfishly, he wished Rick, Maggie and Michonne weren't here. He wanted nothing more than to pull Carol back into his arms and breathe her in. He needed to run his fingers over her and check every inch of her for injuries, take his time and relish the fact that she was alive and he'd found her. They weren't alone, though, and everything was moving too fast for him to follow. Before he could put voice to his thoughts, Michonne raised her voice.
"GUYS!" Rick and Maggie stopped and turned, instantly searching for walkers. "Give her a second," Michonne continued. She jerked her chin in Carol's direction and gave her a small smirk; Daryl saw Carol wink back at her. Her thumb brushed the sensitive skin of his wrist, just once, as she took a deep breath and turned first to Maggie.
"The Governor attacked-"
"We saw the prison," Rick said swiftly. Carol nodded.
"So you know some of it then," she said. "I have no idea where Hershel and Beth are. We lost them during the attack. The fight came right as a tornado was bearing down on us."
"Yeah, we had a house drop on us," Daryl said wryly. Carol turned to him with a gasp, eyes wide, but before he could elaborate Maggie interrupted.
"Glenn's ok?" Maggie asked urgently.
"Glenn's fine," Carol said. "He and Carl are in the shed, over on the edge of the wheat field. There was - Rick, wait!" Carol wrenched herself from Daryl's grasp with a cry, leaping after Rick and leaving Daryl feeling rather lost. He started to move just as Rick threw open the front door, Carol reaching out and just barely missing him, fingers grazing the back of Rick's shirt as he ran out the door and down the steps, heedless of Carol and the others on his heels in his dash to reach his son. Daryl rushed after her, not bothering to examine the instinct demanding to keep her in his sights, keep her close. He barely noticed that Maggie and Michonne were just behind him.
Daryl's vision started to blur slightly as Carol caught up to Rick, throwing herself in front of him and blocking his path as she gripped the lawman by the shoulders and forced him to stop. Daryl hung back, crossing his arms over his chest and watching as a dark, fearful expression crossed Carol's face; it wasn't right, seeing her wear that look and he found himself desperately wanting to do anything he could to make it disappear. Pansy. He ignored the voice in his head, using the dying bits of energy left in him to focus on Carol's face. Even covered in mud and bit of walker, she was lovely. Fuckin' hell, you've lost it. She was talking to Rick in low tones; Daryl could just make out the timbre of her voice over the evening breeze but not the actual words she was saying. He wasn't sure he wanted to know, a sinking feeling in his chest telling him that whatever Carol was saying to Rick, it wasn't good. Daryl watched her fingers sink into the fabric of Rick's shirt, twisting the blue fabric as she held him tighter and tighter while she spoke. He caught himself gnawing on the skin of his thumb, an old habit he'd tried and failed a hundred times to break, as he watched Carol uncertainly. He could see she was trying to stay calm, be reassuring, but Rick's face had gone white. Shit. With an agonized cry, Rick wrenched himself from Carol's grasp and fled towards the dilapidated shed.
Carol stood still, her head slightly bowed and staring at the place Rick had just vacated. Daryl found himself moving again, his feet acting on their own to take him to her. He came to rest in front of her, the tips of his boots brushing against her feet, the tip of her stockinged toe just starting to peek out through the front of one worn, tattered sneaker. He saw the figure of Maggie running past them, following Rick to the shed.
"Carol", he rumbled softly. He reached out and gently threaded his fingers through hers, linking them together. Carol's eyes briefly flicked up to meet his; he was struck by the amount of grief he saw in them. Oh Jesus, Carl's dead. Her eyes ticked over to his left. He felt rather than heard Michonne at his shoulder, silent and watchful.
"There are walkers in the wheat field," Carol said.
"I'll take care of it," Michonne said quietly. Daryl heard the metallic swish of a katana being unsheathed and watched from the corner of his eye as Michonne stepped forward to briefly lay a hand on Carol's shoulder, squeezing gently before striding out of his line of sight. He should care about the walkers; yet another threat in this unceasing nightmare. He just couldn't bring himself to care, more worried about the woman in front of him than the creatures in the field.
"Carol," he said again. He tugged lightly on Carol's fingers, curling them into his palm. He'd never touched anyone so much in his life, including Carol, but he didn't care enough to stop. Not with her, not anymore. Her eyes ticked up to his, filled with anguish and something he couldn't name. "Is Carl alive?" he asked her quietly.
Carol closed her eyes and nodded. Daryl breathed a sigh of relief. Rick was on edge, had been on edge for months and they all knew that losing his son would shatter him completely.
"For now," she whispered. "Carl was bit..." she trailed off, releasing a heavy sigh that seemed to weigh her down.
Carl's alive, but bit... oh Christ. He knew what must have happened, what Carol had done to keep Carl alive. There was no time to process it further; Daryl could hear muffled shouts filling the air. He raised his head from Carol to see that Rick and Maggie had made the shed. The door was open, swinging slightly in the breeze. Carol was moving, pulling him along with her hand still firmly entwined with his. As they reached the shed, he could just make out the dark figure of Michonne, standing sentinel at the edge of the wheat field. She looked back over her shoulder at them and nodded once. Daryl and Carol reached the opened shed and Daryl froze just outside the door in shock. He really shouldn't have been surprised; hell, he'd held Hershel down while Rick brutally amputated his leg, had seen more blood and death in the last two days alone to scar a man for life. There was something jarring about seeing Carl, who for all the time they'd spent together Daryl still saw as a small boy, lying pale and still on a rickety table in an ocean of his own blood. Rick stood over the table, one hand stretched out, hovering shakily over Carl's prone figure, afraid to push that last inch to touch. Daryl understood all too well what Rick was feeling; to touch Carl, to feel him under his hand meant that this was all horribly real. Daryl tightened his grip on Carol's fingers.
This ain't never gonna end. It was too much; he was choking on the sour air of the shed, black spot dancing in his vision. He leaned over, bracing his hands on his knees as he fought down the urge to empty his stomach then and there. He felt a hand rubbing slow circles on his back. Carol. Always takin' care of me. A wave of self loathing rose up in him, adding its bitterness to the bile in his throat. He should be taking care of her, of Rick, of all of them. They were out in the open at night, for fuck's sake, with a possible herd just a few yards away hidden in a damn field and here he was trying not to puke like a god damn sissy. He breathed slow and deep, trying to calm himself while catching jumbled bits of the conversation now happening around him.
"...move him, do you think?"
"What the hell..."
"... Need shelter. We can't stay here..."
"...should hold for tonight..."
Something was pulling at him, gently forcing him to move, dragging him outside. The air outside the shed was crisp and clean. Daryl found himself sucking in huge lungfuls of the sweet air, desperate to calm the roiling knots in his stomach. Unbe-fuckin'-lievable, dumbass. Get a fuckin' grip. His usual derisive inner monologue wasn't helping and he stumbled over his own feet, nearly crashing to the ground if not for the firm grip someone had on his arm. Pfft. Someone. He knew very well who had him. He was ashamed that she had to carry him along like this but at the same time found himself relieved. She had him and he was starting to realize she could bear the weight better than he'd thought. Carol wouldn't let him fall.
Stumbling into the living room, Carol pushed Daryl into the battered sofa, letting her fingers linger on the warm skin of his shoulder. He's not flinching. She thought there had been more touching in the last 15 minutes than there had been in the 2 years they'd known each other. It was almost enough to make her laugh. Almost.
Daryl was still pale and shaking in the grips of his panic attack, heaving deep breaths as he leaned forward and rested his head in his hands. She could hear Rick, Michonne and Glenn moving upstairs, getting the still unconscious Carl settled into one of the bedrooms. Maggie, sniffling, was pulling closed the wooden shutters on the front windows. Carol pulled herself from Daryl and moved to help Maggie seal the windows. Quicker than a rattlesnake, Daryl's hand snapped out and closed almost painfully around her wrist, keeping her in place. Carol jumped, the action automatically bringing back painful memories. He's not Ed. He's not Ed. She kept chanting her mantra over and over as Daryl looked up at her with wild eyes. She found her heart warming despite herself.
"It's ok," she leaned over and whispered softly. "I'm not going anywhere." With her free hand, she reached over and gently stroked the fingers clenched around her wrist; they loosened with each brush of her fingertips. She sighed in relief as the blood started flowing back into her hand. "I'm just going to help Maggie," she continued. Daryl watched her, a fearful expression on his face. Carol just kept lightly stroking his fingers, giving him a minute to read her face. After a long moment, Daryl nodded and slowly removed his grip from her wrist.
Carol sighed and carefully crossed the living room. She could feel Daryl's eyes watching her every move. He did that a lot. Ed had done that too, but she felt none of the malice that Ed's eyes on her used to bring. This was something different, safe and warm. She could feel Daryl's anxiousness this time though, and wondered what had brought on such un-Daryl like behavior.
"Probably won't do a lot of good if a herd comes, but it's something." Maggie was still sniffling, her eyes red. Carol reached out and wrapped her arm tenderly around her friend, pulling her close.
"He was so worried about you," Carol said gently. Maggie closed her eyes and leaned her head on Carol's shoulder. "He was so strong for us. He did everything he could to keep us alive and safe, but all he could think about was finding you."
Maggie sobbed harder, pushing her face into Carol's shoulder. Carol let her other arm come up and pulled Maggie into a hug, gently rocking her back and forth like she used to do with Sophia when she was small. Too much for all of us lately. They were all at their breaking point, pushed to their maximum limits in the past few days. Carol only had to look at Daryl and the others to know their journey here had been just as hard as her own. She could still feel Daryl watching them; a glance over Maggie's shoulder showed Daryl had managed to catch his breath and looked relatively calm. His eyes were dark with something she couldn't name; uncertainty rippling through her as she thought about it.
Hi, baby.
He's never called me baby before. Never. I imagined it. That's got to be it. I've been wanting him to say it for so long now I'm hearing it when he speaks. Audible hallucinations. Because that is what I need right now.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the clatter of feet on the stairs. Rick, Glenn and Michonne had reappeared and were making their way downstairs. She gestured to Glenn with one hand and he smiled and came to her side. Carol gently pushed the still-sobbing Maggie into Glenn's arms and smiled back at her friend. It made her happy to see Glenn and Maggie reunited. Was it only two days ago she and Glenn had been discussing love on the watchtower?
"I like that you proposed."
"Seriously?"
"Seriously! It gives the rest of us hope."
We all need a little hope right now. She caught Daryl's eyes, still staring at her with that strange look, and smiled again before turning to see Rick watching them wearily. She sighed, her joy short lived in the face of Rick's agony.
"I want to know exactly what the hell happened," Rick said.
"You're gonna want to sit down," Carol said as she crossed back to the sofa, sinking down next to Daryl. She wanted nothing more than to lean against him, let the warmth from his body soak into her and fall into sleep knowing Daryl would keep her safe while she dreamed. Wishful thinking. She had a feeling Daryl had reached his limit for physical contact for the day. Hell, probably the year. Maybe. Except you heard him call you 'baby'... Carol shook her head and focused her attention on Rick.
"So, after the four of you left to go chase the car Maggie saw, Glenn and I were sitting on watch..."
Daryl was so exhausted he could barely keep his eyes open as he slowly dragged his aching body up the stairs. The telling from both sides had taken hours. Carol and Glenn had described the blur of the attack, running through the herd, the tornado, the tank coming to the gas station, Carl getting bitten. Carol had skimmed over the details of Carl's haphazard surgery in the shed for Rick's benefit. Given what little he'd seen of the shed, Daryl could fill in the blanks in Carol's story fairly easily. He'd shuddered, thinking about what she must have gone through in that tiny, dark room and hating himself for not finding them sooner.
Maggie and Michonne had carried the tale of their own adventure. He'd added a few details himself but had let the girls carry the conversation, not wanting to give details on the carnage he'd seen at the prison. Several times Carol had come close to crying. He'd seen the shimmer of tears fill her eyes and had wanted to reach out and pull her into him. He found himself frozen instead, uncertain. He'd seen the look come over her face when she was with Maggie and it gnawed at him. Carol had her ghosts, same as him. They'd come a long way, the pair of them. If he was being honest with himself, she was the reason he'd made as much progress as he had. Still, he had a long way to go and was willing to bet his crossbow Carol was the same. It meant they were going to have to talk, which was bad. About feelings, which was worse. Daryl was good at neither of those things. For Carol, though, he was willing to walk into hell itself. Any uncertainty he'd had before about making the leap from friends and acknowledging how he felt was gone, dead the second he'd come back to a ruined prison and started hunting for her.
Daryl stumbled into the nearest bedroom, his thoughts still full of Carol. Soft, gentle, strong Carol. He turned in place, quickly looking around the room confused as why Carol wasn't there. He felt like she was supposed to be there. Daryl shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs from his mind for just a little longer.
She has her own room, dumbass.
Of course she did, because why wouldn't she? No one else knew of his epiphany, of his intentions to declare Carol his and himself hers.
Fuck that nonsense.
Daryl strode from the room, crossing the hall to the small bedroom where Carl was laid, still asleep. Hope its jus' sleep and not worse. Rick was there, settling down into a chair next to the bed. Carol was leaning over Carl, the back of one palm across his forehead as she measured his pulse with her other hand.
"I think he'll be all right for the night," Carol said.
"I don't know how to thank you," Rick said slowly. Daryl leaned against the door jamb and folded his arms across his chest, watching Carol smile gently at Rick.
"You don't have to," she said. "You know that."
"Still," Rick said.
"I know."
Daryl watched them look at each other for a moment over Carl's prone figure. After a long moment, Rick cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair.
"Where will you be if Carl needs you?"
Carol looked uncertain for a moment, clearly not having figured out her sleeping arrangements. Daryl smirked to himself. Might as well, Dixon.
"Across the hall," Daryl spoke up softly. "First door on th' left."
Carol and Rick both arched eyebrows at him but Daryl said nothing further. He simply leaned on the doorway, his gaze on Carol. Waiting. Carol finished straightening the blankets over Carl. Daryl caught the blush rising beneath the dirt on her cheeks and bit his tongue to keep from grinning. Once she was finished, he pushed himself off the wall and stretched out his hand to her. Carol took it automatically but he swore he saw surprise in her face. Daryl couldn't stop his smirk that time as he gently led her across the hall and back into his room. Theirs, now. The click of the door shutting behind him sounded incredibly loud to his ears.
"Who's on watch?" Carol asked softly.
"Glenn an' Maggie. Got lots to catch up on, I guess."
Carol nodded. "That's good."
She shuffled her feet awkwardly, not looking him in the looked at the double bed, knowing there was enough room for both of them but not sure they were ready to share yet.
"Take the bed," Daryl said gruffly.
"No, I can't-"
Daryl leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to Carol's forehead. He heard her gasp, her fingers tight where they wrapped around his. He gave another lingering kiss to the same spot before tilting his head and resting his forehead on hers, brushing their noses together.
"Take the bed, baby. S'all right. I want ya to."
"You called me baby," she whispered shakily.
"It suits you. D'ya mind it?"
Carol took a couple of shallow breaths. He could almost taste her in the air, they were so close. He wondered what if her lips were as soft as they looked, what she would taste like on his tongue. He was so close to finding out.
"No," she said slowly. "I don't... I mean, I-I like it." Yeah, she was blushing for sure now. He could feel the heat from her face and Daryl let loose a rare smile.
"Good. I do too."
They stayed like that a moment longer, heads together, almost nuzzling each other. Daryl's skin was burning. He wanted her to touch him, drag those fingers over him, down him. He wanted run his own hands across her body, caress every inch, every curve. He wanted to taste her skin, figure out what her sensitive places were. He wanted to know what sounds she'd make and what she'd look like beneath him, over him. A lifetime of holding himself back for a hundred different reasons and now, at the end of the world, he wanted to drown himself in Carol Peletier and never resurface.
Not tonight. I'm too damn tired for this.
Regretfully, Daryl raised his head and gently pushed Carol towards the bed. He followed, setting his crossbow up against the wall and moving to pull the thick comforter from the bed, making himself a nest on the floor.
"Are you sure?" He met Carol's concerned gaze and smiled.
"Yeah, I'm sure. Sleep." Daryl watched her slowly stretch out on the bed, sighing with happiness as her body relaxed into the mattress. He laid down on the floor next to the bed, bunching the limp pillow under his head to get as much cushion out of it as possible. Carol's breathing had already gone even, so he thought her asleep. Daryl yawned, too tired to fight off the urge to sleep. He was almost gone when he heard her, soft and quiet in the dark.
"Daryl?"
He cracked open one eye to see her arm dangling off the bed, reaching out for him. Without a second thought, he reached out and once again tangled his fingers with hers, bringing them to his lips to press tiny kisses to each fingertip.
"Go to sleep, baby."
"Mmmkay," he heard Carol sigh. Daryl smiled against her fingers, giving them one last kiss before falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.
