DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Walking Dead. I do own evil thoughts that should never see the light of day.
A/N: Another short update because I'm working 60 plus hours a week and eagerly awaiting tomorrow night's season premiere - which is on WAY past my bedtime but I'm staying up to watch it anyway.
Daryl was frantically ripping through the contents of his pack when Carol stepped into the tent, coffee mugs in hand. She watched him carefully for a few moments, trying to gauge his anger and his mood. The gun she'd used not long before to distract Merle lay discarded at his side amongst a pile of clothes, along with various odds and ends that she barely registered as he finally produced a large Ziploc baggie full of prescription pill bottles and other things that she recognized from the highway near Hershel's farm.
"Merle got the clap on occasion," he'd nonchalantly announced, tossing Dale a bottle of antibiotics for T-Dog.
Daryl sat back on his heels, breathing hard, and Carol took that as her opening.
"Merle's up to something," she announced, stepping forward and offering the younger Dixon one of the steaming cups in her hands.
"Ya think?" Daryl groused for the second time in the last ten minutes. His eyes drifted to the mug in his hand, widening in surprise, then narrowing suspiciously. "Did he give ya this?"
"Not exactly," Carol replied, offering him a slight smile. "One of the men with him. Martinez, I think Merle called him."
Daryl snorted in reply and took a sip, then swallowed the rest down in three huge gulps. He tossed the cup aside and snatched up the baggie that he'd pulled out of his bag, rising to his feet in a swift motion that Carol hadn't expected. She moved to block the exit of the tent as he took a step in the same direction.
"Daryl, please! Wait a minute. This is important!" She stepped towards him, and predictably, he took a step back.
"The hell ya want, Carol?" he hissed, eyes shifting from side to side, refusing to look at her directly. She immediately sensed the double meaning behind his words, and shivered at the implications of it. They had both been avoiding a conversation that needed to be had between them all morning, but now was not the time.
"I don't like the way he was eyein' Lori," she said curtly. "He's way too interested in the fact that she's pregnant."
"What?" his confusion at her response was evident, and his nostrils flared wide. "The fuck you tryin' to say?"
"I don't exactly know," Carol was frustrated and confused. "One minute, he's talking about how we'd be safe at this place, this Woodbury town, and the next minute he's lookin' at Lori's stomach like it's a gold mine. He hasn't just been lookin' for you."
"He wasn't lookin' fer me to begin with," Daryl bit out, moving to the side to try to go around her.
Carol sidestepped and blocked him again. "Yes, Daryl. He was. He said so from the get go. Wasn't too happy that you weren't in camp when him and his men rolled up and took Rick and the others by surprise. Wasn't even willin' to talk until Maggie, Carl and I got the jump on them and gave them no choice."
"Whaddaya mean, you, Maggie and Carl?" Daryl finally looked her in the eye, and she saw the fear behind the ferocity in his icy blue gaze.
"I took him by surprise. Grabbed your gun and distracted him while Maggie and Carl snuck up on the other two men with him," It was Carol's turn to step back as he took a step forward into her personal space.
"Why didn't ya shoot his ass when ya had the chance, then?" he said in a low, dangerous voice.
"He's your brother, Daryl!" Carol exclaimed, stepping forward again, pushing into his space and hoping that her next point hit home. "He's not good for you, but he's your blood. I wouldn't take that away from you. Not in this world we're livin' in now."
Daryl's face drained of color as her words sank in. Even with the safety of the entire group in jeopardy, she was looking out for him. The truth of it slammed into his chest and left him breathless. This woman cared whether or not he got the chance to reunite with his asshole brother, despite knowing what kind of person Merle was and how he operated. Of all people, Carol understood him the best. She'd lost too, after all.
Thoughts of the closure that he'd promised her, bringing Sophia back, safe and whole, swirled into his brain. It was the one thing that he'd wanted to do for her, and he'd failed. Yet, here she was, telling him that his good for nothing brother had been looking for him, and that she'd spared Merle's life for his sake.
Daryl realized in that moment that he had no choice. He had to go back out there and confront Merle and give that fucker a piece of his mind, if not for his own closure, then for hers. He owed her that much.
And Daryl wouldn't - no, he couldn't - let her down.