Chapter 28: The Bet
It had started out as an uneasy alliance between the Dixon family and Negan's family. The first few months hadn't been easy. Negan and Merle had beaten the shit out of each other a couple of times before Daryl threatened to make them all leave, Merle included. Somehow, between supply runs and rounding up livestock, Merle and Negan had put their differences aside and started working together, still trying to get on each other's last nerve whenever possible.
Carol had struck up a friendship with Lucy very quickly after things settled down. When it was agreed upon that Lucy and Negan could stay on the farm with their son so long as they helped out, plans quickly were drawn up for ensuring a future.
In the first year, they searched nearby farms for any livestock that might have been left and not taken down by walkers. At first, they just found some chickens, but it wasn't long before they found a couple of horses and cows.
As everyday life on the farm grew, more walkers gathered at the fences. Before fall, they had already reinforced the sturdy fences with heavy, metal sheeting they'd pulled from a construction site. The sheets were twelve feet tall in some places, and it took nearly a full year to get the entire perimeter covered.
The gate at the front of the drive was still the main entrance and exit off of the farm, and nobody got in or out without a key. Someone was constantly on patrol.
By the second year, they had a couple of foals and calves. There were more chickens, eggs were a common breakfast item, and they had plenty of their previous year's garden vegetables canned in glass mason jars.
This was the same year that Daryl and Negan came across a group of travelers on a mission. Abraham and Rosita were escorting a scientist with a mullet named Eugene to Washington D.C. for some kind of Hail Mary attempt at saving the world and wiping out the undead population. Abraham had been in need of medical treatment for a wound on his hand, and Daryl and Negan had agreed to bring the group to the farm for treatment and food in exchange for some help with some solar panels they'd scavenged near an airport.
The group had stayed on the farm for two weeks. The young doctor who'd come along months before was more than capable of sewing Abraham's deep cut and clearing out the infection. Carol and Daryl had offered for them to stay on at the farm considering there had been literally no sighting of any sort of official or military personnel since before they'd left Atlanta. But the group had insisted on pressing on. Eugene had left extremely detailed instructions for maintaining the solar panels and installing them.
By the third year, Carol became pregnant with Luke, and while she stayed behind from many supply runs, she began overseeing the intake of new survivors. There were only a few people at first. For the first two years, they only took in nine people. But by the time Carol delivered Luke, the population on their little farm was booming. Houses were being built. Children were playing in the fields, and the world felt like it was slowly returning to normal.
By the fourth year, most everyone at the farm, aside from the children, were skilled shooters and could defend themselves if the occasion arose.
Lucy, who had adapted well to the loss of her arm, was an excellent shot, though her preferred weapon when taking on a walker was a sharp but light weight machete. She was an impressive sight to behold on supply runs when things got hairy.
Carol had found a light weight but sturdy bow and arrow set at a sporting goods store, and she had picked it up so quickly that she and Daryl often competed with one another to see who could make the best shot during a hunt. It was one of the many things she enjoyed doing with him outside of the walls.
She still often thought of Lori and Rick and the rest of the group, wondering where they might be. They were either dead or in another part of the country. In the nearly six years that had passed since she'd last seen them, she was certain they'd never see them again. If they were still alive, they were long gone, and there was really no use in dwelling on the past.
"Oh, I'm going to hit up the fabrics section."
"Fabrics?"
"Nabila and Jerry's baby's due any minute."
"Didn't they just have one?" Daryl asked, narrowing his eyes at her.
"This is number three. Keep up," Carol laughed. Jerry and Nabila had traveled from the North East. They'd been traveling with a group of people who followed the leadership of some guy who liked to call himself a king. They'd gotten caught in a herd of walkers and been separated from the rest of the group. Nabila had just given birth to their first child, and Jerry had wanted to get them to safety as soon as possible. So, they'd found a car, headed West and had arrived at the farm three years ago with a toddler. Their second child, a son, arrived a year and a half later, and now baby number three was expected to arrive any minute.
"Number three." Daryl shook his head. "Swear I don't think they got any hobbies."
"Who are you to talk, Mister? 'Let's have a whole baseball team of our own.' That's what you said about five minutes after you held Luke for the first time." Daryl scoffed, but she had a point. The truth of the matter was that he had been perfectly happy with their little family when it was just himself, Carol and Lydia. And then Carol had gotten pregnant with Luke. And he had been more terrified than he'd ever been in his entire life. He knew she was scared, too, but she hadn't let on, especially there at the end, when she'd exhausted herself trying to push him into the world. He'd been so scared of losing her, cursed himself for ever thinking it was a good idea to try to bring another life into the world, and then he'd heard his son's cry and seen his wife's eyes light up in the most magical way.
"We can stop after this one," Daryl promised.
"Listen to you," Carol laughed. "I'm…"
"You say you're not pregnant one more time, I'm gonna start bettin' against ya."
"Oh yeah?" Carol asked with a little laugh. "What are the stakes?"
"Gotta think about it," Daryl said with a shrug. They turned down the aisle toward the fabric department. Carol started sorting through the bolts of fabric, tossing aside those that had been moth eaten. She came out with three full bolts of white fabric and several patterned fabrics.
"When we find out I'm right, you gotta potty train this one."
"What?!"
"It's gonna be a girl, and I potty trained Luke."
"Oh, I beg to differ!"
"'Bout this one bein' a girl or me trainin' Luke."
"Both!" Carol laughed. "I'm not pregnant, and you let him run around the house without a diaper until all my rugs were ruined."
"He went in the toilet," Daryl pointed out.
"And in the garden, in the fake tree in the living room, and if memory serves me, all over Negan's favorite boots."
"He learned though, didn't he?"
"And gave the neighbors a show in the process," Carol snorted.
"It's a thing. Boys piss outside. Spent most of my time out in the woods. I ever tell you the story about wipin' my ass with poison oak?"
"Only about seventeen times since Merle got it last year."
"Yeah. He used to give me shit for it. Who got the last laugh?"
"Men," Carol sighed. "Fine. And if I'm right, which I am, you have to give me an hour-long massage."
"Pfft, that's a win for me."
"How?"
"'Cause every time you ask me to give ya a massage, you always end up beggin' me to fuck you before I'm done." Carol blushed but bit back a grin.
"Fine. An hour. All massaging, no fucking. I can keep my hands to myself if you can resist letting yours wander."
"I'll bet on your bet."
"What?"
"You won't make it the whole hour before you beg."
"I'll never beg," she insisted, folding her arms across her chest.
"Yeah, you're right. 'Cause you're pregnant, and I'm gonna win."
"Ass," Carol scoffed, as Daryl tugged her into his arms and kissed her hungrily. She giggled against his lips, each kiss feeling like the first and the last, still just as magical as the first time he'd pressed his lips against hers.
Author's Note: Thanks for reading, guys! Please keep the feedback coming. I appreciate it so much.