Author's Note: I've been holding this one for well over a month, because obviously a third story would be another distraction from the stories my regular readers are all already waiting to be updated :) But I keep coming back and scribbling along new scenes here, because I get these urges to tell a 'normal' story with these characters, and clearly worlds where the undead are walking the earth, it's harder to fold in the normal. I have made an effort! :) But still, there are just things they can't do with civilization collapsed or falling apart, that they can in a world like this. One where they're just regular folks with regular folk problems. But the story title does indicate they're both running from bad things, so consider it basically the them that we know, but with a few tweaks that will unfold over the first couple chapters.
Things To Know
A world where Daryl and Carol are both living in the same Atlanta slum house. Carol and Sophia have just moved in, Daryl is a longer term resident. Total AU, no ZA happening. And I'm pushing this back two years prior to the show starting. So it's 2008. Daryl is 39, Carol is 41, and Sophia is eight. I'm also giving the adults both 'season three' hair, because meeting them at a different point in time, their hair would have been a different length, and there's nothing to say it couldn't have looked like it did for my favorite 'hair year,' for both of them :)
Updated note: Somebody mentioned they thought Daryl here seemed a bit 'forward.' Fair point :) I'll explain at the end why he is.
The New Neighbors
"Sir, I already told you to leave us alone! Now please, let GO of my wrist!"
Daryl Dixon tipped his head, swiveling it around as he looked up to the landing of the staircase he had just started to climb.
That was a lady's voice . . . and she was clearly in a bad way.
So with him barely two steps up from the ground floor, Daryl double timed the rest of the way to the top. When he got there he saw his new neighbor lady standin' in the middle of their dingy second floor hallway, with her little daughter tucked in behind her. The two ladies were clearly terrified, and trying to trying to get away from Melvin. Melvin was a pale, pudgy, greasy, forty something year old, part-time, pizza delivery man.
He was also their building's resident pedophile.
"Melvin!" Daryl hollered, loud enough to make everyone in the vicinity jump, "you let her go RIGHT now!"
This was far from the first time he and Melvin had had a run in, so when Daryl yelled, that creep immediately let go of the lady's arm . . . forcing her to drop her grocery bag in the process . . . and leapt backwards about three feet.
His eyes were dartin' around everywhere.
And at that point he basically looked just like a big fat cockroach that knew it was about to get squashed. 'Cuz he'd gotten himself jammed up in the corner of that raggedy hallway, with no exit from the floor except the staircase he'd need to go through Daryl, to get to.
And even if Daryl hadn't already been pissed, he was always just lookin' for a new excuse to bust that asshole's face in.
Because Melvin had moved in to their crappy apartment building about two years ago . . . a year after Daryl himself . . . and about two weeks after that, flyers started showin' up around the neighborhood with Melvin's picture on 'em. And those flyers told a story about how Melvin P. Greenley, was a twice convicted child rapist who had just gotten out of prison after a full fifteen year stretch.
No time off for good behavior.
And of course when he got out, he'd moved into their Atlanta neighborhood because it was a complete SHITHOLE, and he'd apparently had high hopes to just blend in with the rest of the low life already scurryin' about. 'Cept the thing was, even low lifes have their standards of decency.
And people who diddle little kids, are the world's scum suckers everywhere they go!
It had only taken Daryl one look at Melvin eyeing the little Gonzalez girl down in the laundry room, to see that prison had done nothin' to correct that disgusting peed-ophile behavior. He was just as dangerous to those kids when he'd moved in, as he ever coulda been before he'd gone in the joint. The thing was though, when he'd showed up there at the apartment building on Ellsworth Avenue, he hadn't technically done nothin' wrong yet. Not since he'd got released, that is. So the handful of single mamas in the building . . . all the parents in that building were single ladies . . . had no luck in gettin' him evicted.
As long as he had the money for the rent . . . which somehow he did . . . that's all that mattered to their skuzzy landlord.
So those same single mamas, knowin' Daryl had already run off a couple of low level dealers who'd tried to setup a shop on their front stoop, had come to him. Literally, he had plates of empanadas, corn bread, and plain old chocolate chip cookies, lined up the wazoo, all paired along with one of those ladies just BEGGIN' him to do something to make Melvin go away. And though as a life rule, Daryl Dixon preferred to keep mostly to himself, he obviously wasn't about to just stand around and let the little girls in the building . . . Melvin liked little girls best . . . be left out there like a human buffet for that scumbag. So he had agreed to step in. And he did have a "talk" with Melvin. And when he was done "talkin'," Melvin had a cauliflower ear, a bruised kidney, a dislocated shoulder, and two eyes swollen completely shut.
The creep didn't even come out his front door for three whole weeks.
But that kinda sickness, there ain't no cure for. So once he'd mended up, he apparently forgot (or just didn't care) why he got broke to begin with. And so Melvin had started sniffing around the floors again. And with almost a dozen little kids livin' in that building, more than half of them girls, from then on Daryl made a point of having the same special 'talk' with that piece of shit, every couple of months.
Clearly though, if Melvin had brought himself upstairs to see the new ladies, he was well overdue for a visit.
And though ordinarily Daryl would need a little privacy for that special conversation, he wasn't so concerned with that at the moment. No, what he needed to do to that bastard on that night, was simply make a point. So the first thing he did . . . once he got done shooting Melvin a lengthy death glare to let him know what was comin' next for him, some real bad shit . . . he turned to the lady that he'd seen moving into the building two nights earlier.
She was pale and thin, in a shorty blue waitress uniform, with her nametag missing. The reason for that, he was assumin', was so she wouldn't get harassed on the trip home. So it was clear she had some brains there, and she definitely had some looks to go along with 'em.
That was not somethin' he'd noticed through his quick peephole glance, the night she'd moved in.
And even though her short hair was a lot more silver than black, she had a young face on her. But right now that young face just looked like it was on the verge of tears. And that really pissed him off.
Basically it was just ANOTHER reason for him to go kick Melvin's ass!
That still had to wait for a minute though. At least until he'd made sure these two were all right. So in an effort to help that conversation along, Daryl made sure to give the pretty lady a little smile, before he spoke again.
"Are you and your girl, okay?" He asked then with what he hoped was a calmin' tone. That was even while his eyes were dartin' worriedly back and forth between the mama and the little blondie. They both still just looked scared out of their minds.
Neither of them were answering him either.
"He didn't hurtcha, right?" He added after a second. Again though, the little girl said nothing in answer to his questions. She just bit her lip and tucked herself in a little tighter against her mama's side.
He could see how her little fist was digging into her belly.
The woman though, once she'd stopped her twitching long enough to stare up at him for a moment, she finally seemed to focus a little. Then, while she was blinkin' away the moisture he could see there in her eyes, she gave a tiny, nervous, jerk of her head.
"No," she whispered back, while at the same time shootin' another frightened glance over to Melvin, "no, he didn't hurt us. He'd just grabbed my wrist right before you came up the stairs. That was as far as he got."
Her voice began to thicken there at the end, right when her eyes began to fill again. So it was clear from her tone, and those unshed tears, that lady knew things had come real close, to goin' real bad. And once again Daryl just wanted to drag Melvin up the stairs and toss his creepy, pathetic ass off the roof, so nobody else would ever have to go through this shit. That was an idea for another day though.
A day where they DEFINITELY didn't have any witnesses!
So in the now, Daryl just looked over to the creepy ass in question . . . who now looked about ready to shit his pants . . . and then back to the pretty lady with the silver hair.
She still just looked like she wanted to cry.
"I'm gonna take care of that bad man for ya," he whispered, too low for Melvin to hear, "it'll just take me one minute and he'll be gone."
The words were intended to help calm her a little more, but the intent clearly was not bein' transmitted. The poor thing was again just stuck starin' over at Melvin like he was gonna pull a gun on 'em or something. So Daryl, even though he was a bit wary about causing new a new fright, reached out and gave that woman's shoulder a very gentle squeeze.
And when her wide, watery, eyes snapped back up to his, he made sure to soften both his expression, and his tone.
"I'm sure it was very scary what just happened," he whispered, "and I know you don't know me, but I promise," he nodded, "it's all over now. He's not gonna hurt you anymore. And he's gonna pay for what he did in grabbing you like that. But what I'm gonna do to him for that," Daryl's nose wrinkled up a little, "it's gonna seem kinda rough, and maybe a little crazy to you, but I got my reasons. And they're good ones. So," he shook his head, "you don't need to get scared again, okay? I'll explain afterwards what's goin' on with the big picture reasons. So for now you just keep your girl over here 'til I get this cleared up."
That time his words definitely seemed to make a real impression. Because she'd stared up at him wide eyed, the whole time he was talkin'. And when he was done, she immediately blinked, and let out a heavy breath. And with that breath, finally a bit of that fear began to fade from her eyes. After that, she gave him a tiny nod.
"Okay," she murmured as that too thin, faintly bruised arm of hers . . . the ladies always moved in with bruises . . . tightened around her daughter's little body, "we'll stay right here."
"All right," Daryl answered in the same soft tone, while giving her shoulder another light squeeze, "and it'll just be one minute."
Then he let his arm fall back down to his side, right before he turned around, stormed up . . . and body slammed Melvin into the opposite wall.
That hit was hard enough to actually make a crack in the plaster. But before that sicko pervert could do more than sputter a pleading, "oh Daryl, come on, man! I was ju . . ." Daryl had punched him in the gut.
Once . . . twice . . . three times. The third one just for making that lady wanna cry. And when he pulled his fist back, and Melvin doubled over, gasping and wheezing, Daryl kneed him in the face.
And that flat little pig nose of his, busted WIDE open!
Blood started spurtin' everywhere, but Daryl's pants were already caked with an inch of filth . . . he did work construction after all, and they'd been layin' cement all day . . . so he ignored the light splatter of red mixin' in with the grey, to lean down right by Melvin's greasy, zit marked, ear.
The one he needed to cauliflower up next time around.
"I catch you sniffin' around up here again," he hissed, "or find you anywhere around that little girl and her mama, I'm gonna break both your legs, and toss you down the stairs from the top floor, 'til we reach the basement. And you know nobody here's gonna do nothin' about that, besides kick you in the nuts when they go by."
What Daryl got back from Melvin for that threat . . . which was really more a solemn promise . . . was some blubberin' and blood bubbles out the nose, so he figured his point had been well made. But he wasn't about to leave that piece of trash laying there on the dirty carpet.
He was sprawled out bleedin' right next to his door!
So Daryl grabbed Melvin up by the scruff of his sweat stained collar, and the back buckle of his too tight, brown polyester pants, and started draggin' him down the hall, and over to the staircase. And while he was doing that, he was muttering an, "excuse me, ladies," as he sidestepped his two new neighbors, still pressed back against the wall.
But once Daryl was clear of them, and had Melvin lined up just right, he gave him a HARD kick in the ass, with the toe of his work boot. Then he watched him tumble about a third of the way down the old wooden staircase, before he caught himself half with his hands, half with his already broken face. And he was still drippin' blood everywhere from his busted nose, so Daryl made a mental note to get some plastic gloves and bleach to wipe that up after dinner. 'Cuz you always clean up the mess you make.
His mama taught him that.
But even while he was thinkin' on grabbing the pack of Clorox wipes out of the bathroom, Daryl watched Melvin slowly crawl along the rest of the way to the bottom of the stairs, and into their darkly lit front hallway. Then Daryl stood there with his head tipped, listenin', until he heard the sounds of the door down below opening and closing. That's when he let out a grunt.
Good fuckin' riddance.
So with that all finally taken care of, Daryl turned back around, now to see the woman staring over at him with her eyes wide like saucers, and her mouth hangin' half open. But at least the tears were gone. And she didn't seem scared anymore.
Shocked, was probably a better word.
There was a similar expression on the little one's face too. But understandin' how what they'd just seen might be a bit confusin' . . . he had just broken a wall and thrown a man down a flight of stairs . . . Daryl jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
"So that was Melvin Greeley," he started explaining to them as he walked back down the hall, "he's a very bad man who did fifteen years in prison for doin' some very bad things." Daryl then gave the woman a hard look. "He likes little girls."
The last bit, he added softly, hopin' like hell her little girl, would't know what that meant. The little one did seem oblivious though. She was still just lookin' up at him, kind of in wonder. But again, at least she didn't seem scared of him.
He'd hate if what he'd done ended up frightening her even more.
And Daryl could see how with that new information, that girl's mama's eyes had gotten even wider. So she'd definitely gotten the proper gist there. Then she bit down hard, on her lower lip.
"Thank you very much for telling me that," she responded with a tight swallow, "we'll be extra careful to watch out for him. And um," she tipped her head, "thank you also for uh," she blinked, kind of in amazement as she then looked between the slightly busted wall and the blood splattered staircase, "well, all that you just did to him for bothering us."
Her eyes suddenly snapped back up to his, and Daryl could see how a bit of that fear was hoverin' again.
She was remembering.
"At first," she started speaking quickly, "when we came in downstairs, he was just acting polite and friendly." She swallowed, "but then he started following us up the stairs saying he'd carry my bag, and I got a really bad feeling. And I kept telling him we were fine, and I didn't need any help," she shook her head, "but he wasn't listening to me. And then the second I told him flat out to just leave us alone, that's when he got really aggressive and grabbed my wrist." She bit her lip, "which was right before you showed up."
"Mmm," Daryl stopped then to let out a small sigh, "well, I am sorry that happened to you. It's especially not right havin' to put up with that here in your own building, of all places. But Melvin is a real special kind of creep, with a whole buncha paper on him that you can look up on the Internet. The things he was in jail for, that was just the stuff they got to stick. And after seein' all of it, you'd think there's no way he'd be able to stay here with all the kids in the building, but when the other mamas called the cops out the first time, they said he'd served his full sentence, and technically he's outta the system now so they couldn't do nothin' about him 'til he reoffends. Of course that just goes to prove how screwed up the system is. But," Daryl gave a slow nod, "he should leave you alone now for a little while. At least 'til he heals up," his tone darkened, "that's when he forgets what happens when he doesn't stay away like he's supposed to."
The woman's expression softened then.
"And is that when you remind him?" She asked quietly, and he tipped his head.
"I try to remind him before it gets that far," he murmured back, "but he's been keepin' to himself the last six months or so. And none of the mamas here have mentioned him skulkin', so I was hopin' maybe he got himself that chemical fix. That's why I was leaving it alone."
That was the last time though. If need be he was just gonna have to put a note on the fridge.
'KICK MELVIN'S ASS!'
And follow-up on that every sixty days . . . plus maybe a special bonus visit on the season change.
Again, just for good measure.
But in the now, Daryl could see how all this information he had shared, seemed to be steadily rollin' around in this pretty lady's head. It was kinda like watchin' a roulette wheel the way her eyes were moving. And then for just a second, she was totally still, while she stared up at him with no expression.
Finally she extended her arm.
"I'm Carol," she said softly, while putting her hand out, "Carol Delaney."
So he wiped his hand on his pants . . . just to make sure he didn't have any Melvin juice on him . . . and reached over to slip her fingers into his. Her hand was small.
And her skin was soft.
"Daryl," he nodded while giving her fingers a light squeeze . . . he didn't want to hurt her, "Daryl Dixon." Then he jerked his head off to the left, and slightly down the hall.
"I live just over there in 2C," he continued quietly while staring over at those brass markings on the brown door, "so if Melvin, or," he shrugged as his eyes snapped back to hers, "anybody else, pops up around here and makes you nervous, you just give me a hollder and I'll take care of it. And seein' as you're new here," he gave her a look, "a safety tip. Don't go down the laundry room after dark unless you got a buddy much bigger than your little one here. If you can, the safest times to go generally, are Saturday and Sunday afternoons, before sundown. That's when most of the other ladies are in and out."
The Carol woman's lips twisted then in a bit of a curious smile.
"Do you work as the security guard here?"
And he felt a faint heat touch his cheeks.
"Naw," he scoffed, while letting his fingers fall away from hers, "ain't nothing formal like that. It's just uh," he rolled his eyes, "well, it's a real bad neighborhood, and we got a slumlord that don't show up for nothin' but the rent. So I do my best to keep the riff raff out, and an eye on things just generally. And aside from creepy Melvin, most people living in here are decent folk. It's mostly split, half of 'em are old people, and half young mamas with little kids. There's one Dominican family up on five, but I think the dad works like three jobs 'cuz I only see him every few months, so you couldn't really go to him for help if you needed it. And in this area, the cops take about forty-five minutes to show up for anything besides a report of an actual murder happenin' right in front of ya. That'll get 'em here in about fifteen minutes. I know this from experience." Then Daryl shrugged. "That ain't really their fault though," he continued quietly, "it's just constantly real bad stuff going on around the neighborhood. So people around the building keep an eye out, and they call me if there's a problem that needs attention. We ain't had a rape or murder at this address, in almost two years, and you can't say that about any other building on this block. And Melvin, he ain't got his hands on none of the kids yet either, so yeah," Daryl tipped his head, "you could say our little system does help some. But," his lips pressed together, "it's still a hard place to live even with the folks here doin' their best to keep watch. So," he let out a heavy sigh, "like I said, anybody bothers ya, you just let me know."
That time when Daryl finished speaking, Carol could feel a small lump in her throat. Because in the three weeks since she and Sophia had fled from Ed and their nightmare of a home life, this was honestly the first person she'd come across who actually seemed to be genuinely kind and decent. And to find him living here, in this awful neighborhood, was so strange. And for that, for being the one bright spot so far in this land of darkness, she gave him a soft smile as she whispered back, "I definitely will let you know if I have any problems." Then she swallowed and patted her girl's shoulder.
"Oh and uh," her eyes crinkled, "this here is my daughter, Sophia."
Daryl's lip quirked up then, as he tipped his head.
"It's nice to meet you Miss Sophia," he said softly, right before his eyebrow quirked up, "and did you know you look just like your mama?"
And that girl gave him a shy smile, and whispered back.
"Grammy says we're twins."
"Yeah," his mouth twitched as he looked back and forth between the identical blue eyes and scrunchy little noses, "your grammy's right about that."
Seeing how that little girl's smile stretched then, even though she brought her hand up to hide it, she looked even more like her mama. And Daryl couldn't help but shoot Carol a quick grin.
"She really does look just like you," he huffed. And seeing the faint blush that touched Carol's cheeks at that observation, he realized he might be embarrassin' her. So he quickly moved on to wrapping things up.
Specifically by stoopin' down to pick up the ladies scattered groceries.
That was even though Carol tried to stop him off with her own stoop and an, "oh, no, Mr. Dixon, I can get those." But he just brushed her fingers away with a faint bit of amusement, and a murmur of, "it's Daryl, and don't be silly." And when he shot her a quick glance, he couldn't help but notice that just increased the blush on her cheeks.
And good God, she was just the prettiest thing with that extra pink in her skin.
But that was a point he tried very much to push to the side of his head, while he moved to quickly scoop up her meager little supply of groceries. As far as he could see it was just the one small jar of generic peanut butter, a box of store brand saltines, a can of chicken, a can of peas, and a six pack of those Ramen noodles. And he was really hoping that wasn't all the food those ladies had to their name, but as tucked the last pack of noodles back inside the only half full plastic bag, he had a feelin' it probably was.
But he didn't wanna embarrass anybody by asking the question, so when he came back to his feet, and handed the bag off to Carol, he just left it at a polite, "here you go."
"Right," she whispered in response as she twisted the bag around her fingers, "thank you." Then she winced and shook her head.
"God, I must have thanked you twenty times in five minutes," she huffed with a faint bit of embarrassment, "not that I didn't mean all of them of course, but I do know how to say other words too."
Okay, and NOW she sounded like an even bigger idiot than she did before!
Great!
Daryl's mouth quivered a bit at the fresh shade of pink he could see startin' to bloom on Carol's face. Then he let out a slight huff of his own, as he started to pull his keys out from his pants pocket.
"Well," he tipped his head, "then I will look forward to hearin' some of those other words the next time we meet."
That caused the pink to finally blossom out to a full deep red, but he could also see how Carol's mouth was quivering then too.
She was trying to get her smile under control.
"I'll make a list," she finally answered him, with a serious tip of her head, "starting with the As." And he couldn't help himself . . . he ended up giving her a full grin for that one. She'd earned it.
And it was pretty nice when she ended up givin' him the same grin in kind.
Her whole face let up then.
That's when he really wanted to say something else. Something about how she looked so pretty with that extra color in her cheeks and that happy smile on her face, but he didn't wanna push the conversation too far. They'd just met after all, and under peculiar circumstances, at that. So he was tryin' to be careful not to say anything that might make her uncomfortable. Otherwise she might think he was maybe just a different kinda creep than Melvin.
The kind that liked grown girls, and not little ones.
So with the keys now jingling in his hand, he made himself swallow those words, and turn away. Then he started walkin' the few steps down the hall towards his apartment, all while calling over his shoulder, "you ladies have a good night, and don't forget to lock up tight."
"We will," Carol answered Daryl with a soft sigh, "and thanks again for everything."
That time when she spoke, he just gave a little wave over his shoulder. And though Carol knew that she and Sophia really did need to get out of the hall . . . Daryl had already told her this wasn't a safe building . . . still, she found her eyes following him the rest of the way over to his door on the other side of the narrow hallway.
It was ten steps in total.
And that's where he paused for a moment, right before he was about to slip his key into the lock.
Then he turned around.
"If you're lookin' for friends," he called back, just loud enough for her to hear, "Miss Fernandez up on six, she's a single mama too, and she's got a little one probably about the same age as Sophia. Her name's Emelita. The little one that is," he clarified with a slight jiggle of his head, "not the mama. That's Carmen."
"All right," Carol nodded slowly, keeping her eyes down, as she started to pull her own keys out from the little zippered compartment on the outside of her hobo bag, "thanks for the tip. I'll go up and introduce myself this weekend."
Then, feeling a stray spark of something that she couldn't quite define, her gaze finally shifted back up to Daryl's, while she added quietly, "would it help my introduction if I told Carmen that Daryl sent me?"
It might have been a silly thing to poke into, the nature of his relationship with this other random woman, because it wasn't like Carol was actively looking to find herself a new man.
Especially not when she was still very ACTIVELY running from the old one!
But if she was looking for a new man, somebody like Daryl, who was physically strong and protective, but still kind and soft spoken, would obviously be pretty high on that list. And if all of the other single mothers around there really did come to him to drive the creepy men away . . . which Carol's personal observation would say absolutely that was true, because she'd already seen what he could do for herself . . . then clearly her impression of his fine character was already shared by the rest of the building.
And those would be people who knew him much better than she did.
So the fact that he was also VERY good looking, with really pretty eyes, and some extremely impressive muscles . . . the kind you wanted to reach out and touch, just to feel them . . . was not relevant to her feelings here at all. She took a shallow breath.
Not a bit.
And at that moment, Carol could see how the very handsome, well muscled man in question, had paused with his body half through his front door. It was almost like he knew what she was thinking.
Then he turned around again . . . that time with a very faint, very soft smile on his lips.
"You can tell her that if you want," he answered back in the same quiet tone that she'd used, "but Miss Fernandez only calls me Senor Dixon." His eyes crinkled a bit as he slowly shook his head, "'cuz she and I ain't any more familiar than that."
Feeling her whole face start to get hot, because it was clear that the man had DEFINTELY been reading her mind there(!), Carol had to bring her hand up to her cheek to try and cover over the flush. Then, before she said anything else embarrassing . . . like brought up his MUSCLES or something(!) . . . she quickly moved to get her own door open.
But once she'd gotten the lock turned, that door pushed back, and had shuffled Sophia inside the front hallway, (with the whispered instruction to go get a glass of milk), Carol ventured another quick (final) glance over to the other side of the hall.
She was expecting to see a closed door.
Instead though, to her surprise, she saw Daryl was still standing there half in, and half out of his apartment. It was clear that he'd been waiting to get her attention again.
And when their eyes locked, he tipped his head.
"I ain't gay," he said softly, "I ain't married, and I don't have a girlfriend, and I'm telling you those things Carol, because I'm takin' from your last question that you might have some interest in that information. And so assumin' that's true, about your interest that is, I'd just like to say that I think you are very pretty," his eyes crinkled, "and you seem nice, and if you and Sophia would like to maybe come over for dinner sometime, I get off work at three, generally home no later than five. But," his lip quirked up in a bit of a wry smile, "if I'mreadin' things totally wrong, and you don't have any interest here, then I'll just say it was real nice meetin' you and your girl, I'm glad you're both okay, and most important," he gave her a look, "you still don't hesitate to ask for help if you need it," he shook his head, "'cuz one situation don't have nothin' to do with the other."
After Daryl finished speaking, for a moment . . . or three . . . Carol continued to just stand there staring over at him, with her mouth open, her heart racing, and the handles of that groceries bag cutting into her palm. Because that man had just gone and thrown ALL of his cards down on the table!
And now she didn't know what to do!
Because even with her silly little poke at his relationship with Carmen . . . the one he'd seen right through . . . she didn't think anything at all would come of that. All she'd really been expecting was to maybe just occasionally run into him in the hall, and admire those pretty blue eyes and nice muscles from afar. Because after all these years of being told by her Ed, that she was an ugly, out of shape, frump, who should feel honored that he was still willing to climb on top of her once a week, it really hadn't occurred to Carol that this man . . . her eyes started to sting . . . might actually think she was pretty. Or that he might be feeling the same pull towards her, that she was feeling towards him.
Just the idea of it . . . of meeting a nice man . . . was exhilarating!
The reality was though . . . she felt a stab of pain in her gut . . . she really had no business at all getting involved with anyone. It would be foolish, and selfish . . . and dangerous. Because Ed was still hunting her. And she knew he wouldn't just give up.
Not until the bitter end.
So she finally she bit her lip, and gave Daryl a sad smile.
"You read things just right," she answered with a faint sigh, "I was poking around to see what you're situation was." She shook her head, "but I was just being silly. Because I'm uh," her voice started to thicken, "well, I'm not really available. Technically. Because technically," she sniffled, "I'm still married, and it wouldn't be right to drag you into my situation. It's not safe."
Daryl blinked once, before he let out a slow breath. Then he walked back across the narrow hallway and stopped in front of Carol.
She was scrubbing at the tears in her eyes.
"You ran away 'cuz he hit you, is that right?"
His words were soft and quiet, but still he saw those little pools in her eyes, just start to fill up yet again.
Then they began to spill over.
"Yes," she swallowed, "me and Sophia both. We only got away three weeks ago. At first we were at the shelter, but it was just the emergency kind, not long term. So once they found me the waitress job and I got my first check, they said we had to go. That's when we came here." She shook her head, "but I know my husband is out there looking for us. And he's not going to stop. So like I said I was just being silly poking around there," she sniffled again, "because it's just not safe to be around me."
Of course it would figure, she finally gets away, gets her own job, her own money, and her own place, and somehow she meets a nice man living right across the hall from her new apartment, and still Ed managed to ruin it. She bit her lip.
Just like he'd ruined everything else in her life.
For a second Daryl just looked down at Carol trying to blink the tears back from her eyes. And even though this was a woman that he barely knew, seeing her like that, so frightened and defeated, it made him feel terribly sad. And that was even though most of the people in that buildin' had a sad story.
That's why they lived in that building.
But this particular woman, there was something there in her that was different than the others. Or at least it made him feel different. And he didn't wanna just say, "all right, well, good luck with that," and go back to his own life. So instead he found himself reaching over to brush the back of his hand along her cheek.
He wiped away one of the tears that had spilled over.
And when her eyes widened in surprise, he let his hand fall down to catch her fingers.
"I ain't afraid of your husband Carol," he said softly, "because any man who beats up ladies and little girls, is just as pathetic and disgustin' as our neighbor Melvin downstairs. So," he shrugged, "if that's really your main concern here, my safety, please don't worry about that." His lip quirked up then in a bit of a cold smile, "'cuz I can take care of myself just fine."
Carol blinked and sniffled.
"Really?" She asked with a faint crackle in her voice, "you don't care about that at all? Because that kind of baggage," her mouth twisted then, "I'd think it's usually kind of a deal breaker, isn't it?"
He shrugged.
"Maybe for some," he sighed, "but trust me, no matter how bad your husband is, I've dealt with worse. So," he gave her fingers a light squeeze, "whaddya say? You and Sophia wanna come over Friday for pizza and see how it goes?"
"Yeah okay," Carol sniffed again as she gave him a watery smile, "that would be nice."
His eyes crinkled.
"Good. And hey," his expression sobered a bit then as he continued with a shrug, "it's just pizza, not a lifelong commitment. So if it turns out we don't actually enjoy spendin' time together like we're thinkin' we might, that'll be the end of it. Then we can just exchange awkward waves in the hallway until one of us moves out of the building." His eyebrow inched up, "sound good?"
His hope was that the little joke would ease up the last of the tension from the moment. It seemed to do the trick. 'Cuz that time he saw Carol's mouth start to quiver, right before she let out a little giggle.
"Yeah," Carol sniffled and grinned up at Daryl, "that sounds like a good exit plan to me."
God, if he was going to be this sweet and funny just asking her out, he was going to ruin her! And also just the fact that he didn't only ask her out, but he'd asked if she wanted to come over with Sophia, was so perfect. Yes, it's not like she had a babysitter or anything . . . she and Sophia were a package deal . . . but he could've offered to come over for a drink after her daughter went to bed.
That's what a man who just had one thing on his mind would've done.
But no, this man invited an eight year old to join them for dinner. Clearly he wasn't expecting anything physical from her at all. It was just as well though, because she hadn't had a date in ten years.
She was a bit rusty.
On that note, it was also probably best that she got herself out of the hallway now before she said/did anything to screw this up. And she was just about to open her mouth and say good night (again) when Daryl suddenly let go of her fingers, and reached up to touch her cheek again.
"Can't leave you with tears on your face," he murmured while brushing his thumb along her jaw, "that's just bad manners."
And feeling how gently he was wiping away the remnants of her crying, made Carol's breath catch. Because nobody had been so sweet to her in years. And then when he was done with that, he let his arm fall down to his side before he shot her a little wink.
"I'll see you Friday."
Then he turned and walked back over to his apartment. Then he stepped inside . . . and closed the door.
Once again, Carol found herself standing there like a fool. This time though, she was a happy fool. Because this was the first man who had shown her any interest since she'd lost a decade of her life to the monster that she'd married. And Daryl was nothing like Ed. Ed had never, even on his early, best foot forward days, performed a kind or gentle act. He never would have jumped in to save her (or anyone) from being attacked by that awful Melvin. So why the hell had she married him? Well, back then Carol had been the kind of woman who needed to have a man in her life. From eighteen up, she'd gone from one to the other with barely a break to catch her breath in between. Most of them had been harmless. One or two had smacked her around a bit, but fortunately those ones had opted to dump her on their own, so she hadn't gotten stuck. Not until she'd met Ed. And she'd made a terrible mistake in trusting that he was one of the harmless ones, and not one of the others.
She'd paid dearly for it.
Sophia too.
Now though . . . she took a deep breath . . . maybe the universe was going to finally cut her and her daughter a break. But Carol was going to be cool and cautious, and take things really slow. The best approach really was to just have the dinner and hope it would go well, but really just be grateful that her girl was going to get one real meal this week and not this . . . she shook the grocery bag with a roll of her eyes . . . cheap Ramen noodles for dinner nonsense.
Speaking of though, it was time to get inside and get those cheap noodles cooked up. The food might have been terribly unhealthy, but at least it would fill their bellies. So with that, Carol finally turned and stepped inside her new, shabby, little unfurnished apartment.
The door closed with a click.
A/N 2: So you see I like this one for a break, because it's straight romance. They don't have ZA complications, or Carol literally just being out of the house, or her husband actually still there and knocking her around. They're just both single (mostly) and living under the same roof.
And the updated note on Daryl, remember this is an AU him and you'll see here his circumstances are very different. He's not the cowed younger brother following Merle around and doing what he tells him to do. He's off on his own in the city, working a job to save up money for reasons that will become clear soon. So just like Carol blooming without Ed, Daryl living a life (for many years obviously now) as his own man, obviously the go to man around the building, he's going to be less reticent to start. The goal obviously isn't to go so far that you can't 'see' Daryl any longer, but please just view him with this background in mind :) That's actually why I like writing a TOTAL AU, because you do get to tweak things and the balancing act is to make those changes, see how that affects the growth of the characters, and what would stay with them, and what would change. And I get how maybe some folks might not enjoy reading a 'tweaked' version of somebody that they love and prefer the other way, but I'm taking this from the writing standpoint of an exercise. Because it would be 'bad writing' for me to say that a person who lived a totally different life, would still be the exact same person. Because clearly all of our experiences are what makes us who we are. So, long story short, that's why Daryl is more 'forward' :) Again, balancing act though! And if you decide to stick around with me here, I will do my very best not to fall off the beam! :)
And again, my brain insists on writing a 'Damsely Carol,' and a 'Swoops In To Save The Day, Daryl,' to open each of these. And without walkers, I thought creepy Melvin was a good ongoing threat. Also just that they live in a terribly dangerous neighborhood too, so stuff can happen there ;) And we will find out why Daryl is living in such a hole when a steady job in construction should be providing him the money to live in a safer neighborhood than 'running from Ed/just kicked out of the shelter,' Carol.
Side note, I do SOLEMNLY promise that I won't open any other new stories until I get at least one of these current ones wrapped up! :) But three should be a nice even rotation. I did find over when I was writing in Criminal Minds, that it was helpful to have other worlds (with different feels to them) to explore, to keep from getting blocked. Because as my regular TWD readers know, I already got tripped up this month doing that 'action based' chapter over in TIN, so Cedar Forest was a nice escape for me, and kept the postings going for you guys. I'm hopeful having this third story this will just be more of the same in keeping my brain happy :) And really, I've already been working on it when I needed the break. It's just that you all get to see it now too!
Lastly, for those who are interested, the next TIN draft is moving along. But I am starting a new job tomorrow (yay and 'aaaaaah!') so let's say conservatively that the next chapter there will be ready to post by the end of next weekend. Possibly earlier, but probably not any later :)
Thanks all!