"What the hell am I s'posed ta do with this?" Daryl asked, turning the key over in his palm.
"Keep it," Carol said. "You never know, you might need to get in here…check on things. You don't have a phone in your apartment either, so there's that…"
Daryl looked sorely disappointed in the key. Carol had told him she had something for him, and she didn't really know what it was that he expected. Now he was standing in her kitchen, leaning against her counter turning the key over and over in his hand and looking like a kid whose balloon had been popped.
"If you don't want it," Carol said, "then you don't have to keep it, Daryl."
Daryl slipped the key into his pocket.
"Ya was gone all night," he said.
Carol was busy, at the moment, straightening up some of the mess that remained from the one day that they'd spent doing nothing more than christening every surface in her apartment. She hated to admit that she was more than a little embarrassed, and also a little disgusted, at how many used condoms she'd found in places that they simply didn't need to be. She picked another one up between her thumb and forefinger that she found between the couch cushions and put it in the plastic bag she was carrying around.
"I was at Michonne's, and I told Andrea where I was going to be," Carol said.
"Yeah she said some shit about us lookin' in over here," Daryl said. "Why ya gotta spend the night at that woman's house no way? I was comin' ta see ya an' then ya weren't even here."
Carol smiled at him.
"We're friends, and sometimes I spend the night over there. It's some of the only time she and I get to hang out. Her girls are small, and she can't exactly drive me home after they've gone to bed," Carol said.
"Ya like them kids a' hers, don't'cha?" Daryl asked.
Carol nodded, standing up and sliding the couch cushion back into place. She started rearranging the sheet she used to cover the old thing.
"I do. I love kids," she said. "Do you like kids?"
Daryl scoffed.
"Snotty, leaky, loud little bastards," Daryl said. "I ain't got no use for 'em."
Carol didn't know why she felt sorry to hear that, but part of her wasn't surprised. She could only hope that Andrea had some kind of extra strength birth control because she could only imagine the disaster a child would be across the hall. Between the three of them the child would end up lucky to survive two days.
"I'm sorry to hear that you feel that way," Carol said. "Michonne's girls are precious."
"I reckon that's good for her, then," Daryl said. He was quiet for a minute. "Ya gonna keep cleanin' all damn night?"
"If I don't clean this place will look like a pig sty," Carol said.
"Ya mean it'll look like our place," Daryl said.
Carol didn't respond. It was kind of what she was thinking, but she wasn't going to say anything. She could understand, perhaps, Merle and Daryl living in the filth they called an apartment, but she was surprised that Andrea hadn't cleaned any of it. The only thing that she could contribute it to was the fact that she knew Andrea didn't consider the place her home. She considered it a place that she was staying temporarily, and therefore she was under no obligation, and really had no right, to change anything about it.
"Can't ya do more cleanin' later? Ya 'bout cleaned every damn thing in here," Daryl said.
Carol snickered.
"Daryl, you're whining," she said. "What's your real problem? I've hardly done anything but collect trash. That's hardly a deep clean."
Daryl walked toward her then, hooking his arm around her waist and pulling him to her. His lips met hers and she parted her lips enough to let his tongue come into her mouth. He searched her mouth and she hung back against his arm, the trash bag still in her hand, not sure if she wanted to spur him on any or not.
"What's wrong with ya?" Daryl asked, pulling back from the kiss. His eyebrows were knitted together now.
Carol sighed. She wasn't really sure what was going on right this minute, and she wasn't sure how she wanted to put her thoughts into words, or even if she should do it at all.
"Daryl," she started, sitting on the arm of the couch, "what is this? I mean what's going on between you and me?"
Daryl looked at her like he was confused.
"What'cha mean? We was kissin'," he said.
"I know that," Carol said, "but I mean what else is it? What does it mean to you?"
"What'cha want it ta mean?" Daryl asked.
Carol shifted on the sofa arm. She really didn't know what she wanted it to mean. She was just going through this divorce with Ed. She didn't feel like she wanted to move into something serious, but on the other hand she didn't consider herself the kind of woman who just had sex with a man that she barely knew for nothing more than the sake of having sex. Now that she'd been away from Daryl for the night, she wasn't really sure what had happened between them. She wasn't even positive how they'd ended up sleeping together, and she surely wasn't positive how they'd ended up spending as much time as they had since then having sex. In fact, she was almost certain that she'd had sex more times with Daryl Dixon than she had in all of her married life with Ed.
"I don't know, Daryl. I don't want you to tell me what it means to me, I want you to tell me what it means to you," Carol said.
Daryl looked confused or hurt or something. Carol wasn't exactly sure what emotion it was washing across his face. Maybe he had no more answers than she did.
"I don't know what'cha want me ta say," Daryl said. "I don't know what the right answer is."
Carol smiled at him.
"There isn't a right answer, Daryl, but the fact that you say that, I think, let's me know what your answer is," Carol said.
To Daryl this was sex, and that was it. He had found something in Carol that for however briefly had captivated his attention. She'd indulged him and given him some sexual experience that he lacked before, and for that he would possibly follow her around for a bit, but there wasn't anything else to it.
Carol felt strange. She almost felt like her heart sunk at the thought, but she was being ridiculous. Daryl didn't owe her anything in the way of feelings and she couldn't honestly say that she felt anything for him. She had too much going on right now to feel too much for him. She had to worry about Ed. She had to worry about the divorce. And maybe it would be insanity to be searching for anything. Didn't they always say that the best thing about getting divorced was being on your own? Playing the field? Did she really want to move from being married to Ed to be tied to Daryl Dixon?
"I don't like the way ya said that," Daryl said, "an' I don't much like the look ya got on ya face right now."
Carol hadn't realized she was making any expression at all. She was trying to hold it back until she had some answers for herself, but maybe her expression was answering her questions for her.
"I just think," she said, "that maybe we're rushing things a bit too much." Daryl looked at her with a strange expression. "Maybe we got swept up in something, Daryl. You were looking for something…someone to be with…and you found that. Maybe I was looking for something too. Maybe we just fell together for a little while but that's all it was."
Daryl narrowed his eyebrows at her, but didn't say anything.
"I'm not even divorced yet," Carol said. "I spent so many years under Ed's thumb and I finally got free from him…I don't even know if I'm meant for a relationship. And you? Daryl do you think you're looking for a relationship? I mean do you even know what you're looking for?"
She almost felt like she wanted to cry, and she had no idea why. She'd lied in bed the night before and tried to figure everything out. She'd tried to work out what she was feeling, if she was feeling anything at all, and she couldn't seem to pull any answers out for herself. She liked Daryl, she really did, but she didn't know anything about herself. She felt like she'd only just met herself for the first time in a long time and there was someone in her mirror that she hardly even knew…and then on top of that there was Daryl.
She knew she didn't want to be what Andrea was to Merle. She didn't want to have a relationship with a man where they both denied that they even had a relationship. That was no way to live. If it worked for them then that was wonderful, but she didn't want that.
In fact, it seemed that right now the only thing she could articulate for herself was what she didn't want. She couldn't seem to put together the words and thoughts to even begin to say what she might actually want.
Daryl stood there, in front of her for a few minutes, and she hoped that he would say something, anything. After a minute he nodded, but still didn't speak. He turned on his heel and crossed the apartment quickly. He stopped a second, by the counter, and fished the key out of his pocket, turning it over in his hands a moment more. He slammed it on the counter and pulled the door open.
"Here's ya fuckin' key," he growled. He walked out the apartment slamming the door behind him.
For a moment, Carol stayed on the arm of the sofa, not sure what she'd done, and not sure how she felt about what she'd done.
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Daryl stormed into the apartment and ripped his key off of the cup hook by the door. Andrea was at the stove when he came in and she quickly called to him, asking him if something was wrong.
"I'm goin' for a drive," he growled.
"Where are you going?" Andrea asked, hanging out the apartment door.
"Don't fuckin' know," Daryl said. "None ya damn business no way."
He descended the steps to the apartment building and made his way to the old truck. He got in and cranked it, checking the gas gauge. He had enough to get to wherever the fuck he was going, at least there was that.
Daryl pulled onto one of the main roads and struck off in the direction heading out of town. He rolled the window down and lit a cigarette, even though he really didn't want the thing. He didn't know what the hell was going on, or what had happened.
He knew that, despite whatever words she wanted to use, Carol was done with him. Just like that. She wanted to know what the whole damn thing had meant to him. She wanted to know if he was looking for a relationship. She had so damn many questions and he couldn't answer a single one of them.
He didn't know what it had meant. He didn't know if it had meant anything at all. He had never done this shit before. He didn't have the same practice at this that Merle had. He'd wanted to be with Carol and he'd been with her. He'd liked what they were doing together, but now he supposed he could put that out of his mind. That was over now. She didn't want to do that with him anymore and it was all because he didn't know what the hell it was all supposed to mean.
She'd asked if he was looking for a relationship. That was another question he just didn't have the ability to answer. He didn't even fucking know what a relationship was supposed to look like. He'd seen what the hell happened between is Mama and his old man, and he sure as shit didn't want that. To have that he'd have to take to drinking more than Merle did and dragging Carol around her damn apartment by her hair. He'd have to fuck her up worse than Ed ever had probably, and Daryl didn't want to do that. He never wanted to do that, and if that's what the fuck relationships came to then maybe Merle was right in trying to fight against them with every fiber of his being.
And then there was Merle. His brother was an asshole. He was a drunk and he'd spent a lot of his life strung out, moving from one battle to another. He'd held down more benches in more jail cells than anyone ever should and he'd been to court so many damn times that he knew what to do there like it was a fucking dance routine.
When it came to women, Merle had always had the sort of philosophy that it was relationships that screwed up your life. Women were good for one thing, and one thing only. Women were good for pussy. When you were done with that, the best damn thing you could do was push her out the door and go and find you another one. Once they started talking about relationships it was downhill from there.
Daryl had always thought that Merle was wrong. Merle had always believed that somehow women would trap you. That once they wanted a relationship, they'd sort of paint you into a corner and then one day you'd want the fuck out and you couldn't get out, no matter how hard you tried, because they had you trapped. Merle seemed to think that's when you went wrong…when things went bad…and then whether you wanted to do it or not, whether you ever saw it coming, that's when you turned into what the hell their old man had been. That's how the Eds of the world were born.
Daryl finished his cigarette, flicked the butt out the window, and immediately dug another out his pack, lighting it. He didn't care if he smoked two or even three packs. He'd do what he damn well pleased.
He chuckled to himself. It was fine if Carol wanted to say they didn't have no business with each other. It was just like Merle said…the whole damn thing was about pussy. Daryl supposed that if that was true, then he'd gotten what he was supposed to get out of the whole damn confusing fiasco. He'd gotten pussy. Now he could move the fuck on to the next pussy.
Maybe Merle was right. He'd always warned Daryl about the first piece. Said that in your head you could make it into something epic, something important…better than what it was…but then once you moved past it, you'd realize it was really just the same as all the rest.
The only reason Daryl felt like he couldn't breathe right now was because he still thought that damn first piece was important…well, that and the fact that he was chain smoking…but if he could move on, then he'd feel a whole lot better, and he wouldn't give a shit about Carol anymore.
Daryl pulled onto some side road and stopped the truck for a moment. He didn't know where he was exactly and he knew he needed to turn around. He'd have to head back in the same direction that he'd come from or else he was likely to end up lost.
He ran his fingers through his hair and wondered if he'd done something wrong to make Carol not want him, or was it simply that she could see, like everybody else, that Dixon men weren't good men to be with.
Some men had relationships that didn't work like Dixon relationships. Daryl had seen those things on television before, and once or twice in real life. He thought about Hershel Greene and Miss Jo. They had one of those relationships. They were old and cute and white headed. Hershel smiled a lot and tugged at his suspenders when he talked to her and Miss Jo always smelled like cinnamon and had flour on her shirt. They always smiled at each other and they rubbed noses when they kissed. That was what a good relationship looked like.
But Dixon men weren't made for those relationships. Daryl had been taught that much was true. Those relationships were for a different kind of person. He wasn't ever going to have that kind of relationship with Carol or with any woman. He'd either spend his life alone, or he'd spend it like Merle, fighting not to fall into the kind of relationships that Dixons had.
Daryl sighed and turned the truck around, lighting another cigarette and driving back in the direction from which he had come.