AN: Here we are, another chapter here.
I'll go ahead and let you know, we have a couple of chapters of character development/getting to know these versions of our characters ahead of us.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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"Would you let me get that?" Daryl called out as Carol dragged one of the plastic totes to the tailgate of the truck.
"I've got it," Carol assured him. "Daryl—I'm not an invalid."
"I don't think you no invalid," Daryl pointed out, putting his hand on the side of the tote so that he could keep her from lifting it immediately. "But I still think that it's reasonable of me to say that you don't gotta carry somethin' that weighs like eighty pounds when somebody else can get that shit." He sighed. "I'm not tryin' to cut you off at the knees or nothin'. I'm just sayin'—let me carry the damn box. And you can unload the shit inside."
"I don't want to feel useless," Carol said.
"I hate unpacking shit," Daryl said. "But I'm pretty damn good at unloadin' trucks."
Carol sighed and let go of the tote. A slight smile of victory flashed across Daryl's lips before he stepped into her place and lifted the tote. Instead of going empty-handed, Carol reached for one of the bags and a couple of pillows. The combined weight of everything she carried was small enough to keep Daryl from protesting.
"Be careful, Daryl," Carol said, walking behind him. "Be careful. Pick your foot up. There's a little step up there. Now slow—go slow. There's the bottom step. You got it. Five steps up."
Daryl followed her directions well as he made his way up the porch steps. As he reached the door, it opened for him. Merle stood there propping it open.
"You got more, brother?" He asked.
"Not in this load," Daryl said. "Carol's got the last of it. The rest of this goes to everyone. Plenty more comin', though."
Once Daryl made it inside the house, Carol followed after him. Merle held the door open for her to pass inside and then he let the it close.
"Andrea opened all the windows," Merle said. "Place oughta air out soon."
Daryl put the tote down in the middle of the floor and Carol put what she was carrying on the couch.
"Whatever's in there that's T-Dog's," Daryl said, addressing Carol, "you can leave down here. Same goes for anything else you find of his in them other boxes. He can carry it upstairs. There ain't no need in you haulin' it up an' down them stairs."
"I'll put away what I can," Carol said. "I can help you with the next load, though."
"Why don't you start unpackin'?" Daryl offered. "We'll get the next couple loads an' then we'll see where we are."
"Start settling in. That way Andrea can take you to get some house stuff. That's her favorite part. Start figurin' out what you gonna need," Merle offered.
Carol looked around the house. Then she looked at Daryl.
"You're sure this is the one you want?" She asked. "Before I start unpacking. You don't want to—look at them again?"
They'd been given their choice of houses. There were 120 cabins on the sprawling property. All of them had been equipped with solar power before the turn, and most of them had backup generators in addition to the fact that they'd been hooked into a traditional power grid. Since they'd clearly been vacation cabins to rent out to the financially well-to-do, and possibly even homes or vacation homes for a few who may have owned a place on the property, they were all well-furnished and as clean as any place that had been closed up for about a year probably would be.
The people who lived within the community had the choice to live as spread out as they wanted, but it seemed that very few people actually liked living alone these days. Most of the people lived in small family units in the cabins. In the same way, T-Dog had asked that Daryl and Carol find a cabin that offered a room for him, but had insisted that he cared about relatively little when it came to picking out the cabin. He'd take an extra bedroom in whatever house they chose to call home.
Despite the fact that they could have had a great deal of privacy by choosing a cabin that was somewhat removed from the other occupied cabins, Carol had picked out one that was relatively close to the one that Andrea and Merle called home.
Carol was beginning to grow nervous, though, because she had essentially been the one that had chosen the cabin. Daryl had gone with her—driving the truck through the property—to look at the cabins, but he'd left the decision up to her. She'd never made a decision that large before, and she'd certainly never made one that impacted so many people before. Ed, after all, had made all their decisions.
"I told you, it's fine by me. Good house. Roof don't leak. It's plenty big enough for all of us an' then some."
"Most of 'em is four bedrooms like this one," Merle said.
"I just—don't want you to live in one if there was another you liked better," Carol offered.
Daryl laughed to himself.
"Got four walls, a roof, and a bed," Daryl said. "I'ma be fine. Just—work on unloadin' stuff outta these boxes. Get it like you like it. Figure out what'cha wanna get."
"You need anything?" Carol asked.
"I'm good," Daryl assured her. "Maybe—some chairs for the porch?"
"Got plenty," Merle offered.
Daryl raised an eyebrow at Carol to ask if she could comply with his desire to have a porch that was suitable for time spent relaxing after work. She nodded.
"Great," she said. "I'll—make sure we have some nice chairs. Rocking or…?"
"Rocking, if they got 'em," Daryl said.
"We got 'em," Merle offered.
"Let me go do some more movin'," Daryl said.
"Don't forget that I filled that bathroom up with baby stuff," Carol said. "Please?"
"I'll get all the baby stuff," Daryl assured her. "I'll check twice. Make sure we strip the place clean."
"We prob'ly gonna go back an' strip the place clean…real clean," Merle said. "Just get what'cha need right now. We'll do the real dirty work over the next week or so."
Daryl nodded and quickly left. Merle stayed behind.
Merle made Carol nervous—mostly because the only experiences she'd had with Merle, before their arrival in the community, had been mostly antagonistic encounters with an addict who was high on something that brought out all his worst qualities.
She walked over to one of the numerous boxes and started burrowing through it to even get a feel for what was in there.
"I don't know if I'm going to need more stuff as much as…really, there's going to be a lot here that I don't need," Carol mused, looking for a reason to talk to the man who was walking around inspecting the cabin.
"We can handle that too, Mouse," Merle commented.
Carol laughed to herself.
"Mouse?" She asked.
Merle chuckled.
"Back when I knew you before, you was like a little mouse. That's how I always thought of you. Runnin' around. Scared of your own shadow."
"It wasn't my shadow I was afraid of," Carol commented.
Merle hummed.
"That's the same thing Daryl said," Merle mused.
"You were talking about me with Daryl?" Carol asked.
"We gonna pretend you weren't talkin' about me with Andrea?" Merle asked. "Look—I'ma talk to Daryl later. When he gets back we're gonna have a couple beers. But I wanted to talk to you, too. Andrea told me some of what you told her about Officer Friendly and the rest of that group you were with." Carol stopped pretending she was actually going through the items in the box. She walked over and sat down on the couch. She didn't say anything, and Merle didn't continue for another minute. "We ain't gonna let you starve here. Ain't gonna starve your kid out, neither."
"I gathered that much," Carol said. "I can certainly say I've eaten well since we got here. I appreciate it. I'm sure—the baby appreciates it, too."
"I saw him watchin' you at camp," Merle said. "My brother. Watchin' every little thing you done. Watchin' that kid and that—sorry—but that fuckin' asshole you was married to." Carol's stomach twisted a little at the suggestion that Daryl might have been watching her, even then, with some interest. Andrea had insisted on something much the same.
It was a strange thing to really consider. Just the thought made Carol's pulse pick up.
"You don't have to apologize for thinking Ed was an asshole. Everybody did. I noticed Daryl, too," Carol offered.
"Damn sure must have," Merle said with a laugh. "My brother was always the sweet one of the family. Been that way since he was born."
Carol smiled to herself. She tried to imagine a newborn Daryl. She tried to imagine, too, Merle interacting with a newborn Daryl.
"He is sweet," she agreed. "He's—easily the kindest man I've ever known. Of course—from what I heard over breakfast, it might be that he isn't the only one in the family that has a sweet side."
Carol wasn't certain that Merle's cheeks didn't run a little pink. He did smile to himself.
"Point is—I ain't never knowed my baby brother to want no woman," Merle said. "I mean—it weren't that he weren't never interested at all. But—hell if any woman we ever come across was ever good enough for Daryl. I figured what he wanted weren't never made—at least not so that she'd want him back. Hell—back then, though, we weren't dealin' with the kinda women that was happy to have babies and make homes. Not with us."
"Do you have a point, Merle?" Carol asked.
Merle laughed again.
"How about—you gimme a hand. No fuckin' pun intended. Light me a cigarette while I—check out your porch an' see if I can't hop ahead in a bit an' look for some decent ass chairs for you two to sit holdin' damn hands on the porch."
Merle offered a pack of cigarettes and a lighter in Carol's direction that he pulled from his pocket. She was certain that he'd probably adapted to be able to light cigarettes himself, but it was probably easier to ask her for help—and it gave him more opportunity to talk to her.
She might not know what he wanted, after all, but it was evident to her that Merle Dixon at least wanted to bend her ear a bit.
On the porch, Carol did what Merle asked of her and lit his cigarette. He thanked her when she returned his pack and lighter. Then he walked down the length of the porch, examining the wood of the railing as he went.
"I weren't always there for him like he wanted me to be," Merle said. "He's always wanted somebody that would always be there. Somethin' good he could hold onto. He's loyal, though. Fuckin' loyal like—like you wouldn't damn believe."
"He's not a golden retriever," Carol offered softly.
Merle laughed.
"He ain't," Merle agreed. "But—they might have some of the same damn traits. My point, Mouse, is that—he might be a sonofabitch sometimes. He might be fuckin' hardheaded as hell. But—just remember that just like he weren't gonna let no damn body hurt you or that kid? Just like he took you outta there to make sure you was safe? He ain't never gonna turn his back on you. So—don't turn yours on his, OK? He waited this long. He deserves somebody that's worth it. Hell—somebody that thinks he's worth it."
Carol stood there and stared at Merle. He stared back at her, too. He didn't move his eyes away from hers. He didn't try to avoid her.
He was being sincere. Carol never imagined any of Merle Dixon's words would ever touch her, but they did. They tugged at something inside of her.
She couldn't tell him that it was all a beautiful sentiment—that his brother had waited so long to find the love of his life and that, as his big brother, Merle wanted to personally ask her not to break his brother's heart—but it was misplaced. Daryl had yet to find that woman. Daryl had yet to make that choice.
Carol was little more than someone he cared about as a friend. She was little more than a companion because alone was a big and empty place.
She couldn't tell him that she wished she had everything to offer Daryl that he wanted and deserved.
Instead, she simply nodded her head.
"You're absolutely right, Merle," Carol said. "He is worth it. And he deserves…all the best."
A hint of a smile tugged up the corners of Merle's lips.
"Good," Merle said. He walked back toward Carol. As he reached her, he extended his hand and Carol allowed him to place it on her belly. He patted her belly in the same way he might pat a puppy. Then he returned his interest to smoking his cigarette. The conversation was done, as far as Merle was concerned, and it might have never even happened. "We got some nice rockers gathered together in storage. They took 'em in to avoid the weather rot back when the group first moved in here. But—you gonna like some of what we got. We got shit for babies, too, so don't you worry too much about it. Whatever the hell you need, we'll find it." He started down the porch steps. "Get unpacked. I'll send Andrea to get you just as soon as she's done at the main cabin."
"Merle!" Carol called. He stopped and turned around. "You know—I think it's good if we all leave a lot of the past behind. Where it ought to be. But—I'd be a bad friend if I didn't say anything and, just like you don't want to be a bad brother, I don't want to be a bad friend."
"You got somethin' to say?" Merle asked.
"Be good to Andrea," Carol said. "She deserves it, too, you know?"
Merle laughed to himself.
"That she does," he agreed. "Don't you worry. She ain't got no complaints."