Chapter Twenty-One
Disclaimer: Ok guys …you all know this is all fun and games for me bc i just enjoy writing. No copyright infringement intended. TWD does not belong to me. I only added this here, bc I had to borrow a few lines of dialogue for the scientific aspect of 01x06 and Jenner's explanation …which I've added to, but that's neither here nor there. Just covering my own ass ok?
"There's water and aspirin on the nightstand," Carol whispered behind a huge yawn. Daryl groaned. How had the woman even known he was awake? It was bad enough she was spread across him, limbs entwined with her knee wedged between his parted thighs. He took stock of his own body and blanched. Where the fuck were his clothes?
His jaw clenched as he gnashed his teeth against the pain in his skull. Tiny little walkers were in there steadily gnawing away at what was left of his gray matter. Ugh! He'd never felt panic so acutely. His heart raced, his breathing sped up and he felt as if he were going to throw up. He swallowed thickly, sure she could hear the thundering of his heart where her head lay on his chest. "I got anything I need t' apologize for?"
Carol smiled, but didn't open her eyes. "No."
No? Just no? He sighed. It didn't sit well with him that his memories after he'd left Sophia in the game room were a total blank. Daryl scowled at the bottle of whiskey resting innocuously on the dresser across the room. Reaching over without disturbing Carol, he popped the pills and drained the water bottle.
Th' fuck happened last night? he wondered. He knew he'd never been so drunk he couldn't remember. It had been imperative to keep his wits about him in the past, what with Merle as a brother. He closed his eyes against the pain as images flashed across his mind's eye. No! No, no, no, no, hell no! He bolted upright, earning a grumble from Carol as he dislodged her from his chest. He thanked whatever god was listening for the foresight to have at least put on clean boxers before he'd passed out as he darted for the bathroom.
Daryl dove for the toilet, barely making it in time to empty his sour stomach. What th' fuck was I thinkin'? And once the images began - a god he'd forsaken reveling in his sadistic glee, no doubt - they hit him like a freight train. Barging into the shower, confronting her about her scars, showing her his own. Fuckin' hell, I showed 'er my scars!? Her touch as she'd scrubbed him from top to toe, and his more than inappropriate behavior when she'd made him hard and needy. Fuckkkk!
He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and flopped back to lean against the wall with a whimper. How was he ever going to face her? Or look at her for that matter? Wasn't like he could hide out in the bathroom until he died of old age. He had a feeling she'd question that.
"Daryl?" she called softly as she knocked lightly at the door. "Are you alright in there?"
Bless her and her soft ways. Merle would have been yelling at the top of his lungs and pounding every surface he could find just to make it worse. "Lemme 'lone, woman," he groaned, burying his face in his hands.
"I can't bear the thought of you suffering," she practically whispered. "Can I get you anything?"
He gnawed his lip to hold back another whimper. "More aspirin maybe," he grunted.
Oh, GAWD, what am I gonna do!? Play dumb! he thought as her words from last night rang loudly in his ears … The only saving grace in this scenario is you're highly unlikely to remember this at all. Again, he groaned, and the sound irritated him. He couldn't just sit there all day bemoaning his fate. He had to do something. But what?
Before he could come up with a plan, Carol returned with another bottle of water and more aspirin. Now that he had control over himself, he hoped he'd be able to hold it down. Without a word, she went to the sink and wet a cloth. He expected her to hand it to him and maybe go back to bed, her job done. He really should have known better. His woman was a nurturer … his woman? Where the hell had that thought come from. He was on the verge of groaning again when she gently lifted his chin and began to bathe his face. He couldn't help but sigh; it felt so nice.
"I really think you need to go back to sleep now you've gotten the poison out of your system," she murmured quietly.
Daryl wanted to just lean over and curl up with his head on her lap. "Don't wanna move. Everything hurts," he admitted, resting his head back against the wall and closing his eyes. "You sure I don't have nothin' t' apologize for?"
"Yes, I'm sure." She smirked smugly, and he allowed her to believe he didn't remember anything. "And, you're not going to stay here in the bathroom all day, Daryl"
He reached out and lightly grasped her wrist when she rose to her feet. "Wait … don't leave me."
Carol snorted a laugh and tugged on his hand. "Do you feel as though you're going to be sick again?"
He shook his head. "No," he replied in a sulky tone.
"Come on then. Let's go back to bed and I'll sit with you for a while before I have to go start on breakfast. It's too chilly in here for you to sleep on the floor."
He got up too fast and clutched at his head as he followed her back into their bedroom. "Had t' be th' fuckin' wine I drank. Shoulda just stuck t' the whiskey."
Carol fluffed his pillow and smiled indulgently at him as he settled back onto the bed. No sooner than she'd sat down beside him, he buried his head on her lap and wrapped an arm around her legs, assuring himself she wasn't going anywhere. He really didn't give a good goddamn if the rest of them starved.
Her fingers threaded through his shaggy hair, and she let her nails scrape gently at his scalp. "Where's my big brave hunter? My snarling snapping Dixon who eats mere mortals for lunch?"
Daryl shot her a disgusted look, not at all appreciating her poking fun at him when he was dying. "He's hidin' under a fuckin' rock, apparently," he mumbled against the smooth skin of her thighs left bare by the cotton shorts she wore with her tank top. "Y' fuckin' mother ever'one else in th' group an' wanna give me shit. Some friend y' are."
Carol let her hand drift lower to knead the knot of tension at the very top of his spine with her gentle touch. "Shh, go back to sleep," she cooed softly. "And just remember ... "
"What?" he grumbled petulantly.
She leaned over and pressed a kiss to his temple, her voice as gentle and soothing as her hands. "Remember, I like you best."
*.*.*
Carol slipped quietly from the room she shared with Daryl, making sure not to make any noise. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully, and she didn't want to disturb him. She'd send Sofia for him when it was time to eat. She shook her head. If she lived to be a hundred - and the chances for that were a lot less likely nowadays - she would never understand men's obsession with drink. Or at least men of her acquaintance. She was pleased, however; Daryl was nothing like Ed had been.
A small smile quirked her lips as she let her mind wander to the events of last night. Daryl hadn't at all been himself. It was as if he'd just let go and freed himself from the burden of responsibility he wore around his neck like a yolk. No pain or fear remained either, and he'd been able to show her a part of himself she'd never thought to see. And she liked it … a lot.
Her cheeks still burned when she remembered the feel of his work-roughened hands caressing her back, and the touch of his lips at her throat. Ed, for damned sure, had never made her feel so wanted or desired. Lord, what was wrong with her? She'd just escaped a lifetime of abuse. How could she think to trust another man with her body … her heart? It was true, she trusted Daryl with her life, but her heart was a whole other matter entirely.
Yet, confronted with her near surrender before Sophia's interruption, that argument just didn't hold water. What would have happened if she'd given in completely and kissed him? Would she have been able to end it there? Would he have wanted more? Would she? Ugh! she groaned.
She gave herself a mental shake. Daryl was drunk. He had an itch and any female would have done in a pinch. She just happened to be convenient and within scratching distance. He would have been horrified if he'd woken up naked with her this morning. He very nearly had, having slept in only his boxers. And he didn't remember anything.
Carol had to admit, she was rather disappointed his memory had failed him. When he'd trusted her enough to show her his scars, it had moved her deeply. She'd felt his pain as he'd surely felt hers, the bond between them strengthening exponentially. Why couldn't he have at least remembered that part? What were they supposed to do now … continue on as they had been?
I'd want y' just as much. A wave of heat rushed through her as his words whirled in her mind, forcing her to clutch at the wall as she fought off a wave of dizziness.
She bit her lip and continued down the hallway in the direction of the kitchen. Snap out of it, Carol! she scolded herself. A relationship built on lust never lasts.
Damn … now she really did miss her vibrator.
*.*.*
By the time she'd navigated the maze of corridors and reached the kitchen, she'd called herself stupid a dozen times and had begun to feel better. She and Daryl had a wonderful friendship, and she wasn't going to allow whatever burgeoning desire she felt get in the way of that. He'd been drunk. He hadn't had full control of his faculties, and he didn't remember it anyway.
"Mornin', Carol," T-Dog greeted her with a bright smile. He'd already pulled bacon and sausage from the freezer and had them thawed. "How'd you sleep? I slept like a rock."
Carol grinned. "Yeah, it was nice having an actual bed to sleep in."
"You seen anyone yet?"
She went to the pantry for the dry ingredients she'd need for pancakes. "Just Sophia and Carl. I wanted them to have a chance to use the bathroom before Daryl woke up."
T chuckled. "I can imagine he won't be in the best of moods this morning. But then, when is Dixon ever in a good mood?"
Carol shot him a patient look, the one she used on everyone when she thought they were out of line. "Don't be mean, T. I think pretty much everyone had a bit too much wine last night. It was really the first time since this all started where we were allowed to relax and relieve a little stress."
The big man poured eggs into a large mixing bowl and attacked it with a whisk. "Hell yeah … And it felt good too."
It didn't take them long to get breakfast on the table, though some members of their group looked less than enthusiastic. Daryl was nursing his second cup of coffee and taking the stuffing out of Glenn, who was sitting with his head in his hands and groaning into his orange juice.
"Toldja, little man … that'll teach y' t' listen next time," Daryl chuckled.
"Next time?!" Glenn gaped. "There will never be a next time."
Lori passed him the bottle of Advil Jenner had produced for them. Rick wasn't in much better shape, and Carol knew the only reason Daryl wasn't suffering was because she'd tended to his hangover earlier. She let her lips bloom into a secretive smile, but she wouldn't even think to tell of his own wretched condition from earlier.
Carol took heart to see it hadn't affected his appetite as he shoveled down his pancakes, eggs and sausage. She picked at her own breakfast, her stomach twisted in knots. She had good reason considering what she was about to ask, but she couldn't put it off. It had been bothering her all night.
Thankfully, they were down the table away from everyone and she didn't have to worry about anyone overhearing. "Daryl?"
He grunted in response, his mouth full. "Hm?" He cast her a sideways look and busied his hands with pouring her a cup of coffee from the carafe on the table.
"I need to ask you something …"
Daryl looked down at his plate, nervous as he imagined her bringing up things he was trying his best to forget. "So … ask, woman," he bit out a bit harsher than what he'd intended.
She bit her lip with indecision, but it would drive her crazy if she let it fester within her much longer. "Last night … you let Jenner think I was your wife. Why?"
Of all the things she could have asked, this wasn't what he'd expected. He'd forgotten all about it, more worried about what had taken place in the shower. "Safer … uh … safer if people think you're m' wife. We don't really know what kinda people are out there now, Carol, or what they're capable of. Y' don't need another asshole like Ed thinkin' he has a right t' take y' from me." He sighed, hating the way his tongue threatened to stick to the roof of his mouth. "Jus' tryin' t' protect y'. 'Sides … I didn't hear y' protest the claim."
Carol noticed the blush on his cheeks and bit back a smile. "I don't mind. I knew you had a reason. I just wanted to know what it was. We know the extent of our relationship, and that's all that matters."
She tried - really hard - to quell the rush of pleasure his words instilled in her. She'd hated the feeling of being owned by her ex-husband, but it made her happy to think Daryl worried about losing her, to think maybe he thought her necessary to his own happiness. If he wanted any strangers they met to believe she was his wife, she'd play along. What worried her was what was going to happen if she began to believe it.
"Y' trust me t' keep y' safe, don'tcha?" he asked, his intense gaze focused on his plate. "I'd never do anythin' t' hurt y', woman."
Her eyes were filled with tenderness, even if her heart was filled with trepidation. "I know."
Dale set his fork down next to his plate and folded his hands beneath his chin while Andrea sat next to him shoving her eggs around in little patterns. "Dr. Jenner … I don't mean to cast a pall on our meal, but we have some questions."
Jenner pushed his empty plate aside and smiled sadly. "I can well imagine."
The old man shifted nervously. "Your research … do you have any idea how the virus works, how it might be cured? You must have some hope if you've stuck it out this long."
Sophia dropped Carl's hand, ending their intense thumb war as her focus shifted to the scientist. "Or is this like finding a cure for cancer?" she asked, her crystalline gaze sharp. "I've never believed – with all the brilliant minds of this world – no one has ever been able to develop a cure. The pharmaceutical companies make all the money with their treatments while the sick have to suffer." Carol raised her brows at her intuitive daughter, but she didn't interrupt. "But money doesn't come into this. Money is worthless now. It's all about survival. So, what's being done to fix this?"
Jenner smiled at her. "Aren't you a little young for conspiracy theories?"
Daryl's gaze narrowed on him across the table. "She may be young, but she ain't stupid. In fact, she makes more sense than y' being holed up here while th' world's goin' t' shit."
"I meant no offense, I assure you." The doctor rose to his feet and motioned to the door. "There's something you all need to see. If you'd kindly come with me."
Daryl and Sophia were the last to leave the room, the girl slipping her hand into his larger one. "Daryl, should I not have said anything? Was it wrong?"
"Hell no," he scoffed. "If y' got somethin' t' say, say it. Y' ain't gotta be afraid t' speak your mind."
Sophia smiled, basking in his approval. She'd spent so many years guarding every word she spoke; it was rather freeing to have his permission to be herself. "I don't like this place, and I miss Merle. How's he ever going to find us if we're stuck here?"
Daryl squeezed her hand. "He will, Soph. Sooner or later we'll find each other. Jus' focus on th' stuff he taught y' an' keep your head up, ok?"
She nodded as they were led into the vast workroom they'd seen last night with its computer workstations spread out in a semi-circle on two sides. Jenner wasted no time calling up video footage of what he called test subject nineteen.
Sophia watched the screen closely as the internal view of the brain was brought into sharp focus. She stood next to Daryl, fighting a roll of her eyes as Shane asked what the lights were. "Synapses," she murmured. "Electrical impulses."
Everyone stared at her as if she'd grown an extra head. "Oh, come on," she snorted. "I happen to be fascinated by science, and I used to watch a lot of YouTube."
Daryl gaped at her, realizing she was smarter than she looked. She must've really given old Ed a run for his money. He quickly closed his mouth as she arched a brow at him. "Seriously? Haven't you ever watched Frankenstein and wondered why the crazy doctor needed lightning to reanimate the monster?"
Jenner nodded. "She's right. Those electrical impulses, synapses … they are what makes you you. Your thoughts, your memories, your desires are all there, a continuous cycle of life there in your brain."
The video went through a time lapse to the next step of their testing, bringing them to the test subject's death. Rick propped himself against one of the consoles, still feeling the effects of his hangover. "So, what … this is a vigil? This person died?"
"Yes," Jenner replied. "Someone who was bitten and infected and then volunteered to allow us to record the process." The video scanned forward again to show how the virus affected its host, eventually killing them. "It invades the brain like meningitis. The adrenal glands hemorrhage, the brain shuts down, followed by the major organs. Then death. Everything you ever were or will be … gone."
Jenner had the computer scan forward again. "Resurrection times vary. We've had one in as little as three minutes, the longest we've heard of was eight hours."
Lori gasped as she stared up at the screen where the video showed the virus working to reanimate its host. "It restarts the brain?"
Jenner shook his head as he turned to look at her. "No, just the brain stem. Basically, it gets them up and moving. It doesn't restore who you were … that's gone forever. The body is just a shell driven by mindless instinct."
Carol jumped as the image showed the test subject being put down. "Oh, God!" In the attack, she'd had to shoot her fair share of walkers to protect the others, but the actual visual of what she'd seen sent a chill down her spine.
Andrea crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the scientist. "You have no idea what it is, do you? Or how to fix it."
"It could be microbial, viral, parasitic, fungal … as I said yesterday, it wasn't my department. I could spend years studying it and still not know."
Dale swiped a hand over his face, his bushy silver brows pulling together. "Someone somewhere has to know what's going on. Surely, you can't be the only one."
Jenner was growing increasingly more jittery under the group's scrutiny. "I don't know … there are other facilities, other teams of scientists spread out across the world, but -"
"You don't know?" Rick asked incredulously. "How can you not know?"
The doctor raked a hand through his wispy blond hair and huffed out a breath of frustration. "Communications, directives, all of it … gone. You think this is easy? Going on with my research, limited as it is with no clue as to what I'm supposed to do if I somehow find the answers? I've been in the dark for almost a month."
Andrea shot him a look of disgust. "So, it's not just here, it's everywhere. There's nothing left out there for us?" Tears welled in her eyes as his silence confirmed what they'd been thinking all along. Jacqui didn't look much better as she wrapped a comforting arm around the blonde.
Daryl pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and groaned. "Damn … I'ma get shitfaced drunk … again."
Carol laid her hand on his arm and stoically gazed up at him. He really hated that look. It made him feel like he'd gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar and he was in trouble. "Do you really think that's wise? Especially since you can't remember what you did last night."
"That's th' point, woman! I could really use some forgettin' right about now." He whirled around, pointing a finger at Rick. "Well, there's your answers, Rick! Hope yer fuckin' happy now."
Dale made his way around a bank of terminals and nodded towards the screen as he addressed the doctor. "Dr. Jenner, I know this has been taxing for you, and I hate to ask one more question, but … that clock," he said, pointing at the wall where the digital behemoth was steadily clicking away. "It's counting down. What happens at zero?"
Jenner turned slowly. "The basement generators run out of fuel."
Rick frowned. "Then what?" he asked. Everything he'd hoped to find at the CDC - shelter, help, answers - was in a pile of ash at his feet, and he was slowly gearing up to lose what little control he had left. He had his group to think of. They were expecting him to lead them to safety, to somehow grasp tightly onto order amidst the chaos and he was failing epically. He couldn't accept it. Lori … Carl … he had to make things right for them. When Jenner wouldn't answer, he addressed the voice activated computer system himself. "Vi, what happens when the power runs out?"
"When the power runs out, facility decontamination will occur," it answered.
Daryl glowered at them all. "I got two five-gallon cans in th' back o' th' truck I filled on th' last run."
Jenner snorted a laugh. "The tanks in the basement hold one hundred gallons each. It would be like trying to fill up your car with a thimbleful of gas."
"Well, hell. Don't say I didn't offer."
Carol sidled up beside him, her whole body trembling. Rick took a few of the others and rushed off to the basement to see for himself just how dire their situation was. "What do we do? I don't like the way the good doctor -"
"More like a mad scientist, Mom," Sophia chimed in.
"I don't like the way he closed down on us. He knows something, or he's done something, and you can bet it isn't good," she said, keeping her voice low so only they could hear.
"He's definitely hidin' somethin'," the redneck agreed. "C'mon."
"Where're we going?" the girl asked as she made to follow him.
"We're gonna make sure all our stuff is packed an' then we're gettin' the hell outta this funhouse."
"What about the others, Daryl? We can't just leave them," Carol protested.
Daryl pushed through the door of their room and headed straight to the bottle of cheap whiskey still sitting on the dresser. "Yes, th' fuck we can," he mumbled, drinking deeply. "Y' don't understand! We don't need them. Th' only reason I agreed t' stay with th' group is because o' you and Soph. I figured y' needed your friends, but this is bullshit, an' y' know it."
Sophia went to her own room to grab her pack and jacket while Carol crossed her arms defensively over her chest and prepared herself for his temper. "We do need them, Daryl. Wouldn't you rather have everyone together instead of trying to survive out there on our own? To have someone to watch our backs?"
"I don't care!" he hissed. "We got two asshole cops leadin' this circus, an' they're too busy fightin' amongst themselves t' pay attention as t' what needs t' be done. If they wanna stay an' be 'decontaminated' or whatever th' fuck that means, I couldn't care less. But you an' Sophia … you're mine t' protect. Y'all come first, y' hear me?"
Carol gasped as his fingers curled over her upper arms. Ed in the same circumstances would have shaken her senseless, but her hunter was gentle, his thumbs brushing lightly over her skin. He was scared and didn't know how to deal with the situation. "I know, and we'll figure it out. Maybe you could talk to Rick … see if he'll leave with us."
Daryl let her go. "And if he won't? You'll still go with me?" he asked, hoisting his pack over his shoulder and reaching for his crossbow where he'd leaned it against the wall by the door.
"Of course. You're not going anywhere without me, Dixon." She enjoyed the smirk which touched his lips only a second before she jerked her quilt off the bed, donned her jacket and grabbed her pack.
*.*.*
He very nearly collided with the former deputy as they entered the computer room simultaneously. "Where're you going?"
"We sure as fuck ain't stayin' here," Daryl growled.
Rick shook his head, adopting his cop stance. "We don't even know we're in any danger yet. You can't just go running off half-cocked. We all need to stick together."
Daryl scowled blackly at him, his free hand clenched into a fist at his side. "Yeah, well this decontamination thing don't sound like it's gonna keep us none too healthy for long."
The scientist looked defeated as he stood before them. "I worked as long as possible. I just ran out of time. The French … they thought they were close to a breakthrough before their facility ran out of juice." He gave a weary shake of his head. "There just wasn't enough time."
Rick stared at him in horror before he snapped. "Daryl's right. We gotta get out of here. Now! Everyone, grab your stuff; we're leaving!"
Alarms rang loudly through the cavernous room, sending a jolt of fear through those gathered. Sophia held her bow in a fierce grip as Carol wrapped a protective arm about her shoulders.
Jenner went to the console and shut down the alarms as Shane ushered everyone back to their quarters to gather their things. "What the hell is going on, Doc?" he demanded.
Glenn panicked as the heavy metal door leading out to the elevators sealed shut. "He locked us in!"
Daryl dropped his belongings at his feet and launched himself at the doctor. "Y' son of a bitch! Y' can't keep us here!" he roared.
Shane and Rick caught him, dragging him back before he could follow through with his plan to beat the scientist senseless. He flung them off of him and backed away, giving T-Dog a warning look when it seemed he'd try his hand at subduing him. Daryl wrapped an arm around Carol and let her cry quietly on his shoulder. Sophia looked as if she were ready to shoot Jenner with her bow.
"Daryl …"
"I know," he whispered. It was destroying him to know Carol was so frightened and there wasn't a damn thing he could do to fix it or make it better. It was time their fearless leader manned up and got them the hell out of there.
"Jenner," Rick said, approaching him slowly. "Open the door and let us out. You can't keep us locked down here with you."
The doctor ignored him. "I told you last night once those doors closed, they wouldn't be reopened. All exits are sealed tight."
"Then open them," Dale tried to reason with him.
"Not my call," Jenner said, still maintaining his calm tone as if their lives weren't at stake. "The computer controls them. Besides, it's better this way."
Rick shot a glance at the digital clock still ticking down on the wall. "Why? What happens in twenty-eight minutes?"
Carol held tightly to the front of Daryl's shirt, her fingers twisting in the fabric. She could feel the tension radiating through his wiry body, and knew he was just itching to lay into the stubborn man who was toying with their very existence.
Shane gripped Jenner's shoulder, but he shook him off, finally losing the thin thread of control he'd been clinging to. "Do you know what this place is? Have you any idea? We protected the public from some very nasty stuff … weaponized smallpox, Ebola strains which could wipe out half the country … stuff you don't want getting out, EVER!" He ignored the nervous glances sent his way, straightened his jacket and tried to collect himself. "In the event of a catastrophic power failure," he continued, reverting to his calm tone once more, "in a terrorist attack, for example, H.I.T.s are deployed to prevent anything from getting out."
"H.I.T.s?" Rick asked. Even with his vast knowledge of weapons, he'd never come across the term.
Jenner called out to the computer. "Vi, please define H.I.T.s."
The computer was quick to supply the answer they sought. "H.I.T.s … high-impulse thermobaric explosives consist of a two-stage aerosol ignition that produces a blast wave of significantly greater power and duration than any other known explosive except nuclear. The vacuum-pressure effect ignites the oxygen between five and six thousand degrees and is useful when the greatest loss of life and damage to structures is desired."
"It sets the air on fire," the scientist explained in layman's terms, a hint of madness in his eyes. "No pain … an end to sorrow and grief … regret … everything."