Chapter 12
It wasn't lost on Carol how Daryl just happened to volunteer for watch on top of the camper when dinner rolled around. It was always eat first then relieve whomever was on duty, but tonight, he changed things up. It gave her an unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach, and she wasn't able to finish her meal. She tried to hide it with clearing the dishes for the Greene girls to wash. She then volunteered to take Daryl a plate of dinner. Adding what was left of her own meat to his plate, she carried it and a glass of water toward their camp and the RV.
Daryl kept his eyes on the farm and the surrounding land. Walkers could come up out of nowhere and be on them before they knew it so the person on watch had to be diligent. He heard the screen door slam and glanced at the white washed farmhouse and instantly knew it was her. Even at this distance, he could pick her out of everyone else. No doubt she was bringing him supper, and while he was grateful, he didn't know how to handle this new development between them.
Carol approached the ladder to the top of the RV and called up to him. "Little help here?" There was no way she was climbing it with a plate in one hand and a glass in the other. When she saw his head peek over the top, she reached the glass up to him.
He took the glass from her, offering to take the plate, but when she refused, he stood back to let her climb on top. He had wanted to avoid this conversation all together, but it looked like she had other plans. "You eat?"
She climbed the ladder with one hand and when she was safely on top, she handed the plate off to him. She nodded, glancing around the property. Two sets of eyes were better than one, right? She moved toward the end with the chair and crossed her arms over her chest as she pulled her cardigan tighter around her dwindling frame. "A little," she finally confessed. "Wasn't really all that hungry."
He rolled his eyes and let out a soft snort before moving to the chair and setting the plate in his lap and hungrily dug in. "You gotta stop with all that shit, Carol. Eat when it's in front of you. Never know when the meals are gonna stop."
She knew he was right. Closing her eyes for a moment to collect herself and her thoughts, she turned. "You okay with me being here?" Her eyes locked on him, trying to read his body language. It always screamed for people to not get to close, but tonight, it radiated off him in waves. "Because I can go..."
He kept quiet. This wasn't his strong suit. Women and talking and relationship stuff. He was better in the woods on his own with his crossbow. It was quiet, and he could think. And the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, but this was just how things were with him. Right? Some men just didn't change. It had been good, better than good, when he was with her like that, and he'd never allowed anyone else get that close to him. He never would again, he wagered, but she was scaring the absolute hell out of him. He didn't know what to do so he just kept eating. He didn't look at her. He couldn't see the look in her eyes. This would be easier for both of them if it stopped before it even started. One of them would lose out in the end. One of them would end up dead, and it could break whichever one survived. And he wouldn't have that.
Her eyes filled with tears as the silence lingered between them. He hadn't told her to go, but he damn sure hadn't asked her to stay or reassured her that her presence was wanted or even tolerated. She watched him as he ate his food and tried to pretend she wasn't even there in the first place. "Fine," she breathed after several moments of uncomfortable silence. A tear fell down her cheek as she moved passed him to the ladder. "Sorry to have bothered you at all."
Her feet carried her down the ladder, almost tripping on the last wrung. She angrily wiped at her face as another tear fell down her cheek. She refused to give into her feelings. Instead, she let the sadness and hurt turn to anger. She felt the wall coming up, protecting her when nothing else could. She would prove to herself and to the others that she needed no one else to survive, no one else to care about. What did it get you in the end anyway? Sorrow. Pity. A broken heart?
He glanced over at her as she fled from the camper and straight to her tent. He knew he was being an ass, but it couldn't be helped. He had to do this for her own good. For his own, too. But why did it hurt so bad? It hurt worse than losing Merle. It ached worse than his regret at not bringing her daughter back to her safely. It just fucking hurt. He tossed his plate and fork to the roof of the RV and cursed, "Oh hell."
But he didn't go after her. He didn't chase her. Because then all this had been for nothing. And he was doing it for her own good. She deserved better. And they all knew it.
