AN: Here we are, another chapter here.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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The dining area was empty. Carol sat alone at the little table by a window in the back room of the dining area and waited for Daryl, just as he'd instructed her to do.
They'd gone directly to a cabin that was used as storage and they'd found a frame for the picture that Carol was carrying around. Then they'd taken a short walk around the community, decided to see about doing a little target shooting to allow Carol the opportunity to practice with her bow, and then they'd gone to the dining are where Daryl had made Carol sit at the table by the sunny window while he'd gone to see about the snack that Alice had ordered her to have.
Carol didn't know how to tell him that making a fuss over her wasn't necessary. It wasn't something she expected from him just because T-Dog had roped him into a fake marriage to earn himself a guarantee that the guard woman—Michonne—wouldn't have any interest in Daryl. Of course, so far, T-Dog hadn't quite been able to draw her interest anyway.
Carol didn't know how to tell Daryl that she'd never really learned how to be comfortable when anyone made any sort of fuss over her.
The last time that she'd even felt really important was when Sophia had been born. Though people liked to tell horror stories of the pain of childbirth and everything they'd suffered delivering their child into the world, Carol hadn't focused on the pain very much. She'd delivered Sophia into the world naturally, but Ed had already taught her about expecting to endure pain.
When Sophia had been born, Ed had left the hospital almost as soon as he realized it wasn't going to be something, they finished within a half hour. He hadn't come back until the next day when the hospital had called several times to let him know that Carol needed to leave with their child. Carol hadn't missed him at all. During her labor and delivery, her nurses and orderlies had been the kindest people she could imagine. They'd given her little treats, made sure she was as comfortable as she could be, told her how important and amazing she was for bringing a little one into the world, and had offered her gentle touches like a hand to hold, a cool rag on her forehead, or simply brushing back of sweat-soaked hair.
Carol practically remembered giving birth to Sophia as a vacation; at the end of which, she'd won the amazing prize of a perfect baby girl and a few quiet hours to spend with her under the protective watch of hospital staff.
After the birth of their daughter, Ed had become less enamored of Carol than he had been before. Since they'd married, his affections for her seemed to be simply draining out of his body. The birth of Sophia had sped up the process.
Carol wasn't used to someone making a fuss over her, but Daryl played his part well. He may have been embarrassed to know it, but he was a good actor. Even Carol almost believed his performance.
Carol couldn't help but smile at his smile as he came toward the table from the kitchen in the back. He carried a tall glass of milk in one hand and a plate in the other. With far more enthusiasm than he normally used for anything, Daryl put both in front of Carol. He sat down, his knee bouncing a little in the few seconds that Carol took to smell the food.
"You said you wanted cinnamon," Daryl said. "And they workin' on cake for dinner's dessert, but this oughta be a good snack."
Carol smiled.
"French toast," she mused. It had been a surprise. He'd asked her what she wanted and, after she'd insisted for a while that she didn't need anything, she'd finally given in and told him nothing more than she thought she might be craving the taste of cinnamon.
"You hate it," Daryl said. Carol thought she actually saw his features droop. He was clearly bothered that he'd made such a poor choice.
"I don't!" She said quickly. "I don't. It's just…there's nobody else here." She assumed the front room of the dining area looked as empty as this room. It had when they'd passed through it.
Daryl looked around and shrugged his shoulders.
"I told 'em doctor's orders. We had a hungry baby out here," Daryl said. He laughed to himself. "They didn't care."
"That's just it…I'm not hungry," Carol said. "I mean—I could eat, but I could wait until lunch. I don't need special treatment or…or two breakfasts."
Daryl reached and took the napkin. He unrolled it to spill the silverware out on the table. Carol pushed the plate toward him, hoping that he was about to enjoy some of the French toast swimming in syrup. Daryl took the fork from the small pile of silverware and cut the corner off the French toast. He didn't eat it, though. Instead, he offered it in her direction.
A small hint of a smile turned the corner of his mouth upward. Carol's pulse picked up at his expression. It was such a simple gesture.
"What are you doing?" Carol asked. She thought her heart might explode. She had no reason and no right to be reacting this way to something so simple. Her reaction was absolutely ridiculous, but it seemed like her body didn't want to hear about rights and reasons.
Daryl's smile only seemed to increase a little as he brought the fork closer to her mouth.
"You been turnin' down food too long," Daryl said. "It's become a habit. You don't even know you doin' it. You gotta eat somethin'. For her." Carol started to protest, but he pushed the toast toward her when she went to move her mouth and it brushed her lips when she closed them to smile at him. He laughed to himself. "Come on," he urged. "It's gonna be good. You know you want it. So—open up and take it."
Carol was ashamed at the thought her brain offered—a tugging desire to hear him say the same words, but about something entirely different than French toast.
He wouldn't ever say that, though, and she was sure that much of his kindness was simply owing to the fact that their time together had led him to care for her as a friend and travelling companion—and he was most assuredly the kind of man who wanted the best for children; perhaps because he'd known a great deal of unkindness while he'd been a child.
Carol succumbed and took his offering. He smiled, clearly satisfied, as he drew the fork back.
"Good?" He asked as soon as she started chewing. She hummed at him. It was good. He cut another piece off, instead of passing the fork over to her like she expected, and her heart danced around wildly in her chest. Daryl was teasing with her. He was being friendly. He didn't realize that the way he was looking at her—with an intensity that was very uniquely Daryl and with that crooked smile on his lips—was driving her mad with the desire to believe that this was something more than it was or, at the very least, that it could be. She accepted the second bite that he offered her, and she felt the warmth of the blood rushing to her cheeks. She thought, for a second, that his cheeks even blushed pink in response.
"That's the kinda ridiculous shit I was waitin' to see!"
The sound startled Daryl so thoroughly that he dropped the fork. It clattered on the table, tapping the plate in the process to add to the din that it created. It startled Carol to the point that she nearly tipped out of her chair and, in the process of grabbing for the side of the small table, she sent the photo frame skittering to the floor.
Merle stopped just as his boots nearly touched the frame. He put his cup of coffee down on the table that was practically beside them. He reached down and picked up the frame. He held it in his hand a moment without looking at it.
"Holy shit," he said. "I didn't catch you with your pants down fuckin'! I mean—maybe you was headed there but there ain't no need to be so damned jumpy."
He kicked out a chair at the table where his coffee cup rested and sat down in the chair, watching the both of them. Carol couldn't bring herself to look at Daryl, so she simply focused on watching the far wall with occasional glances in Merle's direction.
"To be honest," Merle said, musing over the floor as he tipped his chair back to sit in it improperly, "I'm happy to see it. Damn happy. Hell—was sayin' to Andrea this mornin' how—I knowed my lil' brother couldn't be that big an asshole but I seen you leave your lil' woman at least three times yesterday that you ain't even kissed her to…ya know…leave her with somethin' if shit went south. Andrea woulda had my ass if I'da tried that—for every damn person here to see."
He laughed to himself.
"Daryl and I…have an understanding," Carol said.
"Sometimes I forget," Daryl said at almost the same time.
"Too damn preoccupied if you forget to kiss your woman an' you ain't got a Walker on your ass, boy," Merle said. He smiled at Carol and winked. "Especially if she's as cute as your Mouse. Don't tell Andrea I said that, though. She gets kinda jumpy—especially lately."
"That's 'cause your ass is unreliable," Daryl said. He seemed to relax, suddenly, with a way to tease his brother. "Got that damned wanderin' eye."
Merle laughed to himself.
"Things change, brother," Merle said. "People, too." He turned the frame over in his hand and actually looked at this time. He rotated it, clearly turning it so that it would be right side up. He stared at it, brow furrowed, for a moment before he smiled. "Fuckin' looks like a kid you made," Merle said. "Got a damn alien, myself. They swear it'll turn into somethin' though. Eight weeks looks like a fuckin' jellybean, you know that shit?"
"Carol ain't got but twelve weeks left to go," Daryl said. "It's a baby girl."
"A baby girl, huh?" Merle mused, examining the picture. "A lil' girl…" He smiled to himself and offered the picture out in Carol's direction. She took it from him and put it back on the table where it had been sitting before she'd knocked it to the floor. Luckily, it hadn't cracked when it had hit the wooden floor. "Looks like you done good, Mouse. Which doctor you talk to?"
"Alice," Carol said.
"Andrea likes her, too," Merle said. "An' she's a fan of the ladies, if you catch my drift. Still—if Andrea don't care at her catchin' a peek, I don't give a shit. More damn comfortable with that than I would be if it was one of the other doctors." He hummed. He stopped speaking and looked at Daryl. Carol dared to let her eyes flick in Daryl's direction. He was clearly still nervous. While she was looking at him, he let his eyes dart over toward her, and then he immediately snatched them away. "Clean bill of health?" Merle asked, directing his question toward Daryl. He picked up his coffee cup and drank down a long swallow of the clearly cooled liquid.
Daryl cleared his throat, but made it clear that he intended to answer his brother, so Carol didn't interrupt him.
"Baby needs to fatten up," Daryl said. "Gotta get some weight on Carol."
Merle smirked at Carol.
"This is the place to do it," he said. "Besides—lil' skin on your bones, Mouse? Bound to be good for the whole family. If you catch my drift."
Carol's face burned hot because she did catch what Merle was saying. What he didn't know, though, was that the brother he was teasing wasn't involved with her at all—not in that way. And he wasn't going to have any opinion on whether or not she carried more or less proverbial skin on her bones.
"Shut up, Merle," Daryl offered to his brother. Merle laughed and drained at least another third of his coffee cup. "What the hell you want, anyway?"
"Come for a lil' coffee," Merle said. "They told me my baby brother an' his wife was back here makin' out over some brunch. I had to come see a fuckin' pair of Dixons havin' brunch. While I was here, figured I'd see if I could get your help on a quick job over at one of the cabins. I could use a couple decent hands. I ain't meant to interrupt your fattenin' up, Mouse."
He gestured toward the plate and Carol frowned at it. She gathered up the fork that rested on the table, and she moved it to the plate, but she did little else with the food.
"I'm not that hungry," she said.
"At least drink your milk," Daryl said. He stood up to presumably go with Merle. Merle got to his feet and drained the last of his coffee. He put the mug in front of the spot where Daryl had been sitting and kicked the chair back into place before he stepped away a step or two.
"Don't make him fret about you all day or he ain't gonna be no good to nobody," Merle said. "Daryl could worry a damn hole through metal. Drink your milk. Eat some of that food. Leave the plates. They'll come an' clean all this up. Then you oughta go an' find Andrea. She's out helpin' at the greenhouses."
"I will," Carol assured him, simply, because there was no need to argue with anything.
"You mind?" Daryl asked, clearly asking if she minded that he go with Merle rather than stay there to entertain her throughout the day. She shook her head.
"Go ahead," she said. "Andrea can show me around some more."
Daryl nodded and started to walk off, but Merle interrupted his departure with a loud clearing of his throat.
"You forgettin' somethin'?" Merle asked.
"What?" Daryl asked him.
Merle looked practically incredulous. He gestured in Carol's direction and jogged Daryl' s memory.
Carol's stomach twisted. She didn't know how to save Daryl. She didn't know what to say or do to keep him from having to do something that he wouldn't want to do just to satisfy his unknowing brother. Daryl walked toward her and Carol thought he looked terrified. Maybe he even looked apologetic. Maybe instead of terror it was simply distaste.
Carol moved to whisper out an apology to Daryl, but she didn't get the chance. His lips covered hers as he leaned over her. She expected the soft, quick peck that would be necessary to satisfy Merle's expectations of how Daryl should take his leave. She didn't expect that, at the touching of their lips, Daryl would come at her, harder, seeking more of a kiss. She didn't expect that his hand would go to the back of her head or that he would squeeze the back of her neck as he scraped his teeth against her bottom lip before returning, once more, for a bit more of her mouth.
She didn't expect that she'd respond to the kiss so completely, either, sliding a little in her chair. She didn't mean for the moan to escape her lips and she didn't expect the oddly satisfied growl to rumble in Daryl's throat.
She didn't expect the reaction of every single cell in her body when he pulled away from her and looked at her with dark eyes, for just a moment, before he turned and practically left the dining area, with his brother right behind him, at a rather brisk walk.
Carol sat there, stunned for a moment, even as she heard Merle talking to Daryl in the distance.
"Damn boy," Merle said. "When you remember, you sure as shit remember…"