Chapter 12
By mid-afternoon, Carol's stomach was all twisted up into knots. She'd already put in a full day's work. She'd hauled water into the house from the pump outside. She'd checked snares Daryl had set up and retrieved three squirrels and a rabbit. Michonne, aching for something to do, offered to help, so Carol gave her a knife and let her skin the kills.
Judith was fussy, so when Michonne started her work on dinner, Carol put Judith in the carrier on her back and set about checking the perimeter. Gun in hand, backup gun and knife tucked in her belt, she walked the fences looking for walkers. There were a few she could see ambling through the woods, but they didn't even seem to notice her. From the stench in the air, there was something dead out there, and that's probably what they were being drawn too.
When she returned, Michonne already had the meat cut up and was cooking it over the fire. Carol put Judith down for a nap and joined her friend in the living room. But she couldn't sit still. She got up and went to the window, peering out to see if there was any sign of Daryl.
Then she went to the door and out onto the porch and looked and listened for any sign. When Carol returned, feeling those nerves coiling up inside of her stomach, Michonne looked up from her spot in front of the fire.
"Don't worry. He'll be back soon," Michonne assured her. "If the look on his face when you guys got up to leave means anything, he'll be breaking the sound barrier to get back to you." She smiled when she saw Carol blush and smile a little.
"I hate this," Carol finally admitted.
"Hate what?"
"This. Being this girl. I'm the girl that's pining for her boyfriend to come home from a trip. I've never been that girl."
"I hate to break it to you, Carol, but you've been that girl since I've known you." Carol shot her a look. Michonne held her hands up in front of her, raising her eyebrows. "I'm not saying it's a bad thing. It's…you're strong. You are. You can take care of yourself. But when it comes to Daryl?" Michonne grinned. "Back at the prison, you were the first one at the gate when he came back. If he went out in a group, you were looking for him first when the group came back." Carol thought for a moment and then covered her face with her hands.
"Oh God, you're right," she chuckled. "I am that girl."
"Yeah," Michonne laughed. "You are. But that's ok. Glad to see both of you happy. It suits you." Micheonne's smile faded, and she took the skillet out of the fire. "Hungry?"
"Save me some for later. Don't have much of an appetite right now," Carol admitted. Michonne nodded and scooped out a portion for her, saving some for Daryl and for Carol. "Michonne, can you listen for Judy? I'm gonna check the perimeter again." Her fingers twitched at her sides, and she clearly felt like she was suffocating inside while she waited for him to return.
"Sure," Michonne said quietly, eyeing Carol as she grabbed a jacket off the back of a chair and pulled it on. She grabbed a gun and rushed out the door, ready to be outside, ready to not feel like she was going crazy waiting on him to come home.
It was nearing dusk when Carol saw the flash of headlights pulling up the long drive. Her heart leapt in her chest, and she got up from the couch with Judith in her arms. She rushed toward the door, Michonne limping behind her, and she walked out onto the porch, her hand poised at the handle of her gun just in case it wasn't Daryl. But she could make out his form as he pulled up outside the house, and all the nerves that had coiled around in her stomach relaxed or fizzled out completely.
Daryl got out of the car looking defeated and exhausted. Carol handed Judith off to Michonne and rushed off toward the car. She saw that he was alone, but all that mattered right now was that he was back and he was safe.
She nearly slammed into him, and the force of her hug when she pulled her arms around him was consuming. He felt like he couldn't breathe, but he didn't care, because she was in his arms.
Carol noticed his shirt was torn and he had bruises on his arm. His lip was cut and bleeding, and it almost looked like he'd been in a bar fight.
"What happened?" she asked softly, gently stroking the discolored spots on his skin.
"Ran into a herd. Had to do some climbin'." He groaned and shifted his weight. "Think I sprained my ankle." He wiped at her cheeks, and she realized she was crying. Jesus, I really am that girl. "You ok?"
"Fine now," she murmured. "Did you find anything?"
"Nothin'," he grunted, looking toward the porch where Michonne stood with the baby. "They could be anywhere. But I'll go lookin' again tomorrow. Found some gas. Got a full tank and some to spare."
"Daryl," Carol murmured, kissing him softly, not caring that Michonne could see. She shook her head. "You're not going back out there until you're healed. I'll go."
"S'alright," he whispered, stroking her cheek.
"No, it's not," she insisted, her voice raw with emotion. "I can't lose you too, Daryl."
"Hey," he breathed, shaking his head and looking into her eyes. "You ain't gonna lose me."
"Look at you!" she cried. "You're bleeding, you're bruised. You're hurt, Daryl." She felt her stomach twist in knots again. She felt sick. She felt dizzy. When she let out a sob, she knew that she was going to lose it. She turned away from him and rushed up the porch steps and into the house. Daryl stared at Michonne, jaw a bit slack, completely lost for words. She hobbled down the porch steps with the baby in her arms.
"She was worried," Michonne said quietly.
"Ain't the first time I've gone off by myself." He just wasn't getting it.
"Maybe not," Michonne said quietly. "But all she did from the time you left was try not to think about you, and that didn't exactly work out." She shifted Judith in her arms. It was then that Daryl got it. It wasn't the first time he'd gone off on his own. But it was the first time he'd gone off on his own since everything had changed between them. Now he felt like a complete asshole.
"Do me a favor? Can you keep Judith with you tonight? I know Carol said—"
"I already moved her crib this afternoon. Carol doesn't know. I figured you two would want some privacy when you got back." Daryl felt the hot flush on his cheeks and ducked his head.
"Thanks," he murmured, brushing past her and going into the house. Michonne moved back up the porch and sat down on the step with Judith in her arms, figuring she'd give them a little space before she went in. The baby was sleeping in her arms, but that didn't stop Michonne from pointing up at the stars and tracing the constellations with her fingers, talking about what she thought they looked like, like she'd done with Andre a lifetime ago.
Carol was in the kitchen when he walked in, his boots thudding awkwardly on the floor when he hobbled. He propped himself up against the doorframe and looked at her. She had her back turned to him, and she was leaning over the sink. He knew she was crying again, and he was quickly beginning to hate the kitchen. It's where she always seemed to go when she cried, and he hated that he was the reason she was crying now.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't think…"
"I'm not mad," she whispered through her cries. She turned to face him. "I'm not…I wasn't ready to feel like this…so terrified that I wouldn't see you again. Jesus, Daryl, I love you so much." She took in a few shaky, gulping breaths and he crossed the distance between them. "I'm sorry. I feel so stupid."
"Hey," he assured her, pulling her into his arms. "It's ok." He stroked her back and kissed the top of her head. "Nobody's ever worried about me like that before. Guess I'm not used to havin' somebody wonderin' where I am and missin' me when I'm gone."
"I was a mess this afternoon," she admitted. "I worry when you go hunting. I worry when we're not together. But this was different. You were leaving, and I couldn't help but think of all the what ifs." She sighed and relaxed in his arms.
"Come on," he said quietly, tugging at her hand, pulling her out of the kitchen and through the living room.
"What?" Carol asked quietly. "Where are we going?"
"We're goin' to bed."
"But what about the baby?"
"Michonne's got her. We're goin' upstairs, and we're gonna take care of each other." Carol felt her heart flutter, and she felt that familiar stirring deep inside. She closed her eyes and leaned against him, exhausted from an afternoon spent scared to death that something bad might happen. And something bad had happened.
"Daryl," she said quietly, "that won't make me worry about you any less."
"You don't gotta worry," he said quietly. "I promised I'd come back to ya. I don't break my promises." He kissed her cheek and stroked her lips with his thumb. She sighed, closing her eyes and relishing the feel of his hand against her skin.
"Things are more complicated now," she said quietly. "I just can't shake the feeling that something's going to happen and…" Her voice trailed off, and Daryl placed his hands on her shoulders, gently squeezing them.
"Hey," he stopped her, leaning in to kiss her again. "We got more'n enough to worry about. But I'm here. You're here. We're safe, and that's what counts. Alright?" She sighed and nodded, still not feeling entirely thrilled about the idea of him risking his life like this. But that was her Daryl. He'd almost died looking for Sophia, but he was still here. He was a good man, and she couldn't ask him to change, because that was the man she'd fallen in love with.
"Alright," she said, giving him her best smile, though he could tell it was half-hearted and that her mind was still filled with doubts and worries. He grabbed her hand and linked his fingers with hers.
"C'mon. Let's go to bed."
"That feel ok?" Carol asked, kneeling on the floor next to the bed. She'd taken off Daryl's boots and was now massaging his aching ankle. He winced at the feeling of her fingers when they brushed over the swelling.
"It's fine," he lied.
"You are a horrible liar, Daryl Dixon," Carol said with a little grin. "C'mon. Let's prop your foot up." She grabbed an extra pillow out of the closet and put it at the end of the bed. He rested his foot on it and watched her. "What?"
"Nothin'," he said quietly, his eyes telling a whole other story. "Just glad to be home."
"I'm glad you're home," she said softly. She moved around the bed and crawled in, snuggling up against him. He pulled his arm around her, holding her close as she rested her head on his shoulder and her hand on his chest. "Daryl? Promise me you won't go back out until your ankle's better." He was quiet, his breathing steady and deep. "Daryl?" She looked up to see he'd fallen asleep. She smiled tiredly and leaned up to place a kiss to his lips. She sighed and relaxed against him again, and soon she was fast asleep in his embrace.
Thanks for the support so far, everyone! As always, reviews and feedback would be great and most appreciated! Thanks again and Caryl on!
