Chapter 21: Four Weeks

Daryl groaned, rolling over in the bed to find her side empty and cold. Squinting into the impossibly bright red digits of the alarm clock, he was surprised to find that it was only three thirty. She was off on Sunday, and he had a month long deadline, so it wasn't like he had to leave on someone else's schedule.

He groaned, rubbing his eyes as he got out of bed and pulled a pair of sweats on. It was a tad chilly to be walking around naked.

He found her sitting on the couch with her laptop on her lap. She had her head back, and her eyes were closed, and he couldn't help but smile at the sight of her with her hair piled messily on top of her head with her fuzzy slippers with the hole in one toe skirting under the rug.

"Carol?" he asked from the doorway. She didn't wake, so he moved to take the laptop off of her lap. The screen was dark and probably had been for some time given that the computer wasn't even warm. "Hey." She moaned softly in her sleep, and Daryl gently shook her shoulder. "Carol."

"Hmm? What…what time is it?"

"Three thirty," he said quietly. "What're you doin' up?"

"I couldn't sleep," she said with a chuckle. "So I got up to type up some notes from those interviews I did on Friday."

"Guess it was boring enough to put you to sleep."

"Ha. Ha," she said dryly. Since her meeting Thursday, she'd been completely immersed in interviews and researching the company and the evidence found in the case against them in the illegal dumping of chemicals into local waters. She was slowly but surely getting enough information for several articles, but it was wearing her out.

"You ok?" he asked, helping her stand. She nodded, only he knew that was completely bullshit. "You want a drink?"

"That's the last thing I need," she laughed. Though I'd take one in a minute if I wasn't knocked up with your kid. He led her back to the bedroom, and she flopped down on the bed with a sigh.

"You comin' down with somethin'? You're pale."

"I'm fine," she promised. Just tell him, you idiot! "Are you excited?"

"Yeah. Ain't been on a road trip since I drove out here. 'Course, I never saw the parts of the country I'm gonna see now. You sure you're ok with me goin'?"

"Daryl, I'm fine," she assured him, and he slid under the covers and pulled her close. She rested her head and her hand against his chest, and she traced slow circles around his nipple with her fingertip. "You'll be busy with that, I'll be busy with work, and we can talk and Skype every night."

"You gonna send me nudes?"

"Shut up," she laughed, burying her face against his neck.

"C'mon, I might get lonely."

"Yeah?" she asked, linking her fingers with his and pressing kisses to his knuckles. "That's what your hand is for, Pookie."

"So, that's a no?" He flipped her onto her back and she laughed against his mouth as he kissed her.

"What're you doing, jerk?"

"Makin' a memory to get me through the next four weeks?"

"Oh, is that it?" she giggled. "What about me?"

"You've got your…you know, your thing in the drawer."

"Really?" Carol asked, raising an eyebrow. "You think that makes up for the real thing?"

"Well, it's…not as big as mine, I'll give you that."

"Oh my God, you're ridiculous!" she laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck. "At the risk of inflating your already titanic ego, there's nothing like the real thing. At least not with you." She kissed his nose, and he nibbled hers. Then his hand began to make its way up her shirt and over her breast. "Really? It's three thirty in the morning?"

"You're up. I'm definitely up." He wiggled his brows at her, and she grinned, shaking her head.

"You're insatiable." She tightened her arms around his neck, sighing softly as she relaxed in his arms and tried not to think about the fact that he was leaving for a whole month in just a few hours.

...

"Carol?"

"I'm fine."

"I ain't leavin'."

"What?!"

"I ain't leavin' if you're sick."

"I'm not sick." She flushed the toilet, and he could hear her fiddling with something at the sink.

"You just puked in the toilet. You're sick."

"Daryl, it's nothing. I'm fine," Carol promised. "It's just my nerves. I've been stressed out this week with work, and…"

"It's Sunday. You don't work today." He narrowed his eyes at her when she came walking out of the bathroom smelling minty fresh.

"Daryl, I just ate breakfast too fast," she insisted. "Please stop talking about me getting sick, because I'll get sick again."

"I ain't leavin'."

"Oh my God, go!" Carol groaned. "Don't make me push you out the door."

"I don't wanna leave you alone. Maybe I should take you to the doctor, or…"

"Daryl, I love you. I'm going to miss you. But I can't miss you unless you leave." She folded her arms across her chest as he finished zipping up his duffel bag. "In fact, if I am sick, the last thing you need to do is get sick, too." Daryl clearly wasn't impressed with Carol's excuses. "Look, if I promise to have Michonne come over and keep me company, will you please go on your trip? Because I don't want my vomit to be the reason you miss out on all your hopes and dreams."

"My hopes and dreams are standin' right in front of me," he pointed out.

"Oh, that's so sweet. And such crap." She gave him a peck on the lips and then patted his cheek. "My vomit's not going to be the reason you get a tear in your eye every time you pass the published book of photographs taken by the guy who took your place because your girlfriend had a stomach ache."

"So you do feel sick?"

"Oh my God. If you don't go, I'll go for you." Daryl chuckled and shook his head.

"Alright, you win. But I'm callin' you in an hour."

"You better," she grinned. He leaned in to kiss her, and she put her hand against his mouth. "I better brush first. Vomit mouth, remember?"

"That's the hottest thing I've ever heard," he joked. "I'll take these down to the truck."

"I'll be down in a minute." She smiled, and he loosened his grip on her waist long enough for her to slip away and back to the bathroom. When he heard the tap running, he headed out into the living room and grabbed her laptop. He quickly created a new folder on the desktop and plugged in his USB. Within moments, it was filled with his own private collection of photos they'd taken together since the day they'd first met. The last document in the folder was a letter he'd typed out earlier that morning before she'd woken up. The document was titled "READ ME AT NINE TONIGHT."

...

"That's everything," Daryl said quietly, leaning back against the truck as Carol stepped up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I guess so," she sighed. "I packed you a lunch. It's in the cooler on the passenger's side. Promise you'll call me?"

"I promise. And you promise you'll call Michonne? And that you won't work all day? Watch a movie, rest, put your feet up."

"Aw, look at you taking care of me," she said with a grin. "Like always."

"That's what we do." He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips, keeping his gaze locked on hers as he brushed a soft kiss over her knuckles. "Maybe I can cut the trip short. I'll try to get back sooner. Hell, I know Axel would be happy. Still can't believe they're holdin' my job for me." He cleared his throat when Carol leaned in to kiss him.

"Just be careful. You can call me in the middle of the night. I don't care. Wake me up."

"Bye, brat," he said with a grin..

"Bye, jerk." She kissed him softly then, running her fingers through his hair as his hands tugged at her hips. "Four weeks. We can do this."

"Just four weeks," he agreed. "I love you."

"Love you, too," she murmured, pulling back to look on his eyes. She bit her lip then, and her gaze faltered, and for a moment, she looked like she could cry. "You should go. Go." She brushed her thumb over his kiss-swollen lip, and he nodded, resting his forehead against hers. She closed her eyes then, breathing in the scent of him, letting the memory of this feeling nestle against her heart. He turned away, and she swallowed back the urge to cry.

Tell him!

"Daryl, I…I need to tell you something," she said softly. He turned then, one hand on the door handle of the truck, the other linked with hers.

"Yeah?" he asked, running his thumb over her knuckles.

"I'm…" She took a deep breath and smiled, shrugging her shoulders. "I'm the kind of girl that cries when her boyfriend goes away. I hope you can live with that." Daryl smiled then, swallowing the lump in his throat, and he cupped her chin with his hand before placing a kiss to her forehead.

"Yeah," he promised. "I think I can live with that." And then he was in the truck and driving away, and she wasn't holding the tears back anymore. But a weight had been lifted. She'd done the right thing. He could go with a clear head, and when he came home, she could tell him, and they could celebrate together. Four more weeks. Just four.