AN: Here we are, another chapter here.
I'm not pretending anyone is "in character" for the current run of things. I don't even know what constitutes in character at this point.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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"It's gonna rain," Daryl said. It was the first thing that he'd said in a long while and it snatched Carol out of the quiet contemplation into which she'd fallen. She was almost embarrassed to even admit to herself that she'd very nearly fallen asleep on the piece of log that she was using as a seat near the low burning fire.
"What?" She asked. She didn't know what she'd expected him to say, but she had absolutely expected something different than what she'd heard, so she sought clarification to find out if he'd actually said something about the rain or if she had dozed off and simply dreamed it.
"It's gonna rain," Daryl said, erasing any doubt that she might have. "Ground gets damp. Temperature still drops at night. You don't look a hundred percent. You ain't strong yet. Not like you oughta be. Still sick. You ain't had no business leavin' the Kingdom to come out here an' try to catch your death of pneumonia."
"I'm well enough," Carol said. "I'm not contagious."
"That's not what I was worried about," Daryl offered.
"The tents are dry," Carol said.
"Yeah. Fine. They keep the rain from fallin' on you," Daryl said. "But the ground still gets damp an' cold."
Carol knew that this wasn't really about the cold or the dampness, but that's what Daryl needed it to be about for the moment. He wasn't good at direct conversation. He never had been. He would get there—and he always did—but he sometimes had to take the long way around before he talked himself into saying what was really on his mind.
Carol had seen it before, more than once. She knew his secrets. He knew hers. They'd learned how to talk to each other. Carol spoke Daryl's language fluently, and she knew how to be patient. She knew how to give him the time and the space that he needed. She knew, once he was settled, he'd speak as openly and as freely as anybody else—just as long as he was ready to live up to the truth of whatever he had to say.
If Daryl needed to talk about the cold and the dampness for a bit, Carol could talk about it.
"We have a few tarps and blankets," Carol said. "They're in the wagon. We packed them just in case there was a storm that stopped us before we got here. We thought we could make a camp somewhere for the night if we had to. Henry can help you make sure that we're all set for the night when he gets back with whatever was in your traps."
Henry had been gone a while, but Carol had the gut feeling that he was close by. If she scanned the trees with enough care, she might be able to find him. He wasn't that great at camouflaging himself. He hadn't made it to the traps—not yet. He was probably close enough to hear most of what was said. He wouldn't actually go and check the traps until he was satisfied that things were going well enough at Daryl's camp.
Henry trusted Daryl, but he was protective. He knew enough about Carol's past to make him feel like he had some role that required him to protect her. It wasn't true, of course, but it was part of who he was. It was part of what would, someday, make him a great man for some lucky woman, so Carol let him nurture that protective side of himself so that, when he married, he would know how he wanted to treat his wife.
Daryl glared at Carol at her mention of tarps and blankets out the back of their wagon. His features softened, then, and he gnawed his lip before he turned his face away from her and started pacing around his camp. He picked up a stick of firewood and threw it at the fire. It sent sparks flying up into the air and Carol waved them away as a few of them came too close to comfort.
"Sorry," Daryl muttered.
"It's OK," Carol said. "You didn't mean to and—there's no harm."
"Didn't burn you?" Daryl asked. "Close to your face."
Carol laughed to herself.
"My face is fine," she assured him. "I'm fine."
"Could get cold," Daryl said. "Tonight. With the tents away from the fire."
"I'm sure we can keep from freezing to death," Carol said. "You survived the coldest parts of the winter so far. If we left now, we'd get caught in the storm. It would be worse than if we just stayed and rode it out here. But we could leave first thing in the morning for the house, Daryl. If it would make you feel better. Or—would you rather I just went back to the Kingdom and stayed there?"
Daryl stopped his pacing. He looked directly at her.
Carol wasn't much in the practice of making Daryl take a stand about his feelings. To date, he'd never actually said that he loved her with so many words—though he'd certainly said it in his own way. More than once he'd declared that he didn't want something more. He didn't want something like marriage. He didn't believe in commitment. He didn't want to feel like anyone belonged to him or like he belonged to anyone. He preferred to be alone.
Carol's company was nice. It was appreciated. It wasn't required.
And Carol knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he was lying. It was obvious that his lies even hurt him. But she'd let him tell them because somewhere he thought the lies protected him.
What he didn't realize was that it was never her intention to hurt him. Even when she'd hurt him, she'd never done it intentionally.
Carol stood up. She ignored the stiffness that she felt in her body from the cold of the approaching evening and the dampness that was, as Daryl had predicted, seeping up from the piece of trunk.
"Would you have preferred if I hadn't come at all, Daryl?" Carol asked.
He stared at her. He brought his thumb up to gnaw at his cuticle. He looked around the camp like he was looking for something, but he wasn't quite sure what he was looking for.
He was looking for the words to say next, but they weren't there.
"You know—I like it when you come," Daryl said. "Miss seein' you."
Carol smiled to herself.
"Then why don't you welcome me?" Carol asked. "Make me feel like you want me here?"
Daryl swallowed, nodded his head, and stepped toward Carol. She didn't miss the deep frown that started to overtake his face. He wrapped his arms around her and she closed her eyes to the warmth of the embrace. She hugged him back as sincerely as she could.
"I'm sure we can find a way to keep warm," Carol offered before the hug broke. She smiled at him when he pulled away, and she accepted the soft kiss that he offered.
"You gonna get sick," Daryl said.
"I'll be fine," Carol said. "I feel stronger than I look." She smiled at him. "I meant what I said. The house is clean and warm. Dry. Comfortable. Quiet."
"Gonna rain tonight," Daryl said. "Can't get there until tomorrow."
"I'll do my best to survive one night if you promise me you'll come tomorrow," Carol said. "Just—for a few days?"
Daryl nodded his head. It was not a very committed nod, but it was enough. Daryl worried his lip and stared at Carol, so she simply stood there in front of him and waited him out.
"You say—it's a—I mean you...you sure that it's somethin'?" Daryl stammered.
Carol might not have known what he was talking about if he hadn't backed up a step and nervously eyed what little evidence of a belly she could brag about having. She smiled at him. She nodded her head and hummed in the affirmative."
"It's something, alright," Carol said. "It's a baby. Or—at least that's what I hope it is. If it isn't, I've got bigger problems than a night on the damp ground."
Daryl stared at her belly like he was trying to see through her shirt and through her skin to see the tiny forming human beyond.
"You say it's—that it's...mine?" Daryl asked.
"It's yours," Carol assured him. "I know that beyond a shadow of a doubt."
Daryl flicked his eyes back up to meet hers.
"His Majesty know that?" Daryl asked. "That it ain't his?"
Carol laughed to herself.
"Ezekiel is imaginative," Carol said. "And he's creative. But he isn't delusional. He knows it isn't his because he knows that—he knows there's no way it could be his."
"And your Kingdom?" Daryl asked.
"For the time being, they assume that it's Ezekiel's," Carol said.
"Cause you told 'em so?" Daryl asked.
"We told them I was pregnant," Carol said. "We let them think what they wanted to think beyond that."
"What's he say about it?" Daryl asked.
Carol sucked in a breath and let it out.
"I came here to tell you. To talk to you. I came here to ask you to come back with me. You've been out here long enough, Daryl. If you don't want to live with people, I understand that. If you want to keep your distance, I understand that, too. But let's go back to the house. You'll take Dog and—you'll make the house your own. You'll have some privacy, but you can still come and go as you please among the communities."
"And you?" Daryl asked. "You'll be with him?"
"I thought you might tell me that," Carol said. She shrugged her shoulders. "I thought you might tell me anything. What you think. What you want. If you don't want—this baby? If you don't want—me? The responsibility that comes with? I'll understand. It's a lot. And it's unexpected. Believe me. I know. I'm not sure I believe it yet. So if you don't want it—I'll understand. And Ezekiel will let me keep my home in the Kingdom and the baby—he'll raise it as his own. Just like he's done with Henry. If that's what you want, Daryl."
"King'll just—raise my kid like it was his own?" Daryl asked.
"If that's what you want," Carol said.
"What do you want?" Daryl asked.
"The same thing I've wanted for a very long time," Carol said.
"Which is?" Daryl asked.
"You to tell me what you want, Daryl," Carol said. She turned and walked away from him. She sat down on the stump where she'd sat before and reached her hands toward the fire to warm them. She glanced around, but she could see no sign of Henry in the surrounding trees. She hoped he had gone now to the traps so that he might return with meat in time for them to cook it before the rain came and put out their fire. She hoped he would have seen, by now, that Daryl wasn't going to threaten her. "I've told you before, Daryl, about my feelings. I've told you—how I feel. You've told me what you don't want. I guess—I want to know what you do want."
"And if I say I don't—want it?" Daryl asked.
"Then I go back to the Kingdom," Carol said. "And—I would still hope that you would come and live at the house. It's too much for you to live out here. You can't do this forever."
"That what you want me to say?" Daryl asked. "That I don't want it so you can go back to the Kingdom?"
"I want you to say what you mean," Carol said. "I'll deal with it, whatever you say, but I want to know that you mean it."
"The Kingdom is safe," Daryl said. "Protected. Got guards and good fences."
"It's as vulnerable as everywhere else to the right people at the right time," Carol said. "Don't try to keep me safe, Daryl. There's time for that—and I'm not interested in that right now. I just want to know what you want. What do you plan to do?"
"Where you gonna be?" Daryl asked.
"Wherever you want me to be," Carol said. "Wherever you decide I should be. I guess that's why I'm here. If—if I'm carrying a baby? Well—I am carrying a baby. If I'm going to have a baby? I need to think about that, Daryl. I have to think about that. I can't—go back and forth. So whatever you decide? It's what you decide. You know?"
Daryl considered it—or rather he contemplated the ground.
"We'll leave in the mornin' for the house," he said. Carol nodded her acceptance. "And then—I'll do my best to stay there. Pack my things tonight."
Carol smiled to herself.
"Whatever you need to make you comfortable there...we'll find it," Carol said. Daryl nodded his head. "Is that—what you want to do?"
"It's what I gotta do," Daryl said. "Like you said—you gonna have a baby an' all, you can't go traipsin' back and forth. Gotta settle somewhere."
"The house is a lot closer to the Kingdom," Carol said.
"It'll be good when Henry wants to visit," Daryl said. "Or—I don't know how it'll all work, but it'll be good. Better'n out here. Close enough for—when you wanna go visit. See your people. His Majesty. But—safer'n out here."
Carol's heart leapt around in her chest. She held her emotions under control, though.
"Does that mean you—don't think I should live in the Kingdom?" Carol asked.
Daryl shook his head at her.
"I ain't livin' in that house alone, Carol," he said.
Carol swallowed against the feelings that were threatening to choke off her air.
"I know you'll take Dog with you," Carol said.
"I weren't talkin 'about the dog."