AN: Here we are, another chapter here.
I believe some people might have missed the previous chapter (which tends to happen if I update the same fic too quickly/often), and there are some rather large developments there. Please go make sure that you read that one before reading this one.
I do want to make it clear that I'm taking a LOT of liberties here, so please don't compare this to the way things happened in the show very much (or at all). Thanks!
I hope you enjoy! Please don't forget to let me know what you think!
111
"Where'd you go?" Carol asked.
She met Daryl almost at the gate, and his heart swelled. She looked concerned. He wondered if she'd been concerned the whole time he'd been gone. A few steps behind Carol, Sophia stood with her hands on her hips. Daryl couldn't decide if she simply looked worried about her mother, or if she looked like she was considering rolling his ass for the audacity of making Carol worry for even a moment.
"I told Ezekiel to tell you I had some business to take care of," Daryl said, "and that I'd be back."
"Well—I know that," Carol said. "He told me that. But—what were you doing? Where'd you go? You said you weren't heading back to camp yet."
Daryl laughed to himself.
"I didn't go back to camp," he said. "Did you two have a good morning?"
Daryl had slipped out after a conversation, over coffee, with Ezekiel had put Daryl into action. He'd entrusted Ezekiel with the job of making sure that Carol and Sophia had breakfast and, as much as he possibly could, making sure they had a good morning with plenty of time to simply spend together.
Daryl knew Carol well. He would have argued, really, that he knew her better than anyone else alive. When she got restless, she ran. That was what she did. Often, she ran to try to save everyone around her from herself—or something like that. Daryl figured that, mostly, she was trying to outrun all the unresolved business in her head. He understood that. There were times he was running from his own damn demons.
This time, he decided to head her demons off at the pass, at least to the best of his abilities.
But he wasn't going to pretend—not even for a moment—that it didn't make his stomach and his chest both ache, in the best kind of way, that she had missed him and wasn't trying to hide it.
"I showed Sophia the horses and…showed her around," Carol said. There was a tinge of hurt to her tone.
"It's not very nice to leave, Daryl, without telling anyone where you're going," Sophia scolded sharply.
Daryl bit the inside of his mouth. If he'd known her mother at her age, he imagined she might have scolded him in just the same way—at least with the same expression.
"You're right," Daryl said. "Sorry. I told Ezekiel I had shit to take care of. If you wanna see what the hell I was doin'—well, I'm happy to show you."
"What are you up to?" Carol asked, suspiciously.
"You wanna know or you don't?" Daryl asked. "If you're comin', then you'll both need weapons. I'm not babysitting."
Daryl bit back his amusement. The last comment was meant to raise dander just a bit, and it worked. Daryl lit a cigarette and smoked it near the gate while he waited for mother and daughter to go and get on decent boots and to retrieve their weapons.
Ezekiel seemed to feel that Carol was in flux again. She was searching for who she was—something she had maybe never truly answered before—and she needed room to explore that. Those were Ezekiel's words. He wasn't too concerned about the Kingdom. The community ran pretty self-sufficiently, and Ezekiel was more a figurehead than anything. They came to him for his guidance, but he sought the opinions of others when he made those decisions. Carol was their queen, but only because Ezekiel told them to think of her as such. She rejected the title in public and in private, and Ezekiel seemed to think that it would take very little for the good citizens of the Kingdom to accept that he and Carol had decided to dissolve their marriage on amiable terms.
They would still be friends. That wouldn't change. And Carol would remain forever beloved to the people of the Kingdom—and forever in the protection of the Kingdom.
The wind scattered seeds sometimes in different directions, but that didn't mean that they didn't come from the same plant—or some shit like that. That's what Ezekiel had said over coffee. Daryl had humored him. He assumed that, despite his very good performance as being perfectly OK with the coming about of something he'd considered inevitable since the start of their relationship, Ezekiel might very well be still needing to recover a little from the loss.
He, too, might be needing a little of the space that he said Carol would surely need to find for herself.
Daryl had listened to the man talk, and he'd done his best to offer a bit of comfort and some friendly exchange of conversation to ease things over as best he could. Then, he'd taken what Ezekiel had said—the part of it that made any damn sense to a reasonable person—and he'd decided to do something about it: something that would benefit both Carol and Ezekiel.
As Carol and Sophia came into view upon their return, Daryl smiled to himself. Carol walked with an arm loosely around Sophia's shoulders, and Sophia allowed it. It reminded Daryl of a time—a very long time ago, it seemed now—when he'd watched Carol with her young daughter. She never let her out of her sight. She hardly ever let her get beyond the reach of her fingertips. She was so protective and caring.
It was one reason that Daryl had thought it particularly cruel that the world should take her child from her—literally snatched away from her—when that day on the highway had been one of the only times that Carol hadn't been holding onto the girl.
Now, as they walked toward him, Sophia was smiling. Maybe she was laughing quietly. Carol was laughing a bit more openly. Sophia said something—Daryl couldn't hear it—but whatever it was, it made Carol laugh again.
Daryl felt his chest flood with warmth at the simple sight of mother and daughter walking, Carol's arm over Sophia's shoulder and Sophia's arm behind her mother's back, sharing something that amused them both. It was happiness—and there was nobody in the world that he wanted to be happier more than he wanted Carol to be happy.
As they reached him, their smiles didn't fade entirely, but Daryl still worried that he'd interrupted something, even though neither woman made him feel that way.
"Well?" Carol asked.
"You ready?"
"You still haven't said where we're going," Carol said.
"I guess you'll see when the hell we get there," Daryl remarked.
For the pretended sharpness of their exchange, they both knew they were teasing, and the smirk on Sophia's face said that she didn't believe it for a moment either.
Daryl led both of them through the gates and started down the road, a half a step ahead of them, where he'd just travelled alone some moments before.
"It surprised me to see you gone," Carol said, "when you said you weren't leaving."
"That's why I said I'd be back," Daryl offered. "Good for you to keep in mind, though. People don't like surprises like that. It's a good rule of thumb not to step out on people without tellin' 'em you're going."
He glanced back over his shoulder at her. Her expression said she disapproved of his leaving—and maybe she'd been more upset than she wanted to admit, something that made his stomach feel jittery—but also that she understood what he was saying. He hated for her to go. He especially hated for her to go when he didn't know where she was going and had no chance to follow after her—even if she required him to follow at a respectable distance.
Carol walked, arm linked with Sophia's, without further comment. Sophia walked along looking like she was sight-seeing and enjoying a peaceful stroll more than anything else.
Daryl didn't feel the need to strain the moment with conversation, so he kept just far enough ahead of them to guide them without being too far ahead that he couldn't silently enjoy their company.
He stopped when they reached the gates. Carol furrowed her brow at him and half-shrugged her shoulders.
"What are we doing here?" She asked.
The house had been a place of refuge for her before she'd married Ezekiel. She'd made a quiet little home there where she could hide away from the things that she found overwhelming. She'd had a lot that she needed to deal with, and she'd reached a breaking point, perhaps, where she felt that she couldn't deal with more without first having time to process everything.
Daryl wasn't sure if she'd ever finished processing everything, really, before Ezekiel had pulled her out of the comfort she'd built there and transplanted her to the Kingdom where he could play house with her and call her his queen. Carol had accepted the identity he'd given her, but Daryl assumed she was no stranger to doing that. She had accepted the identity her family had given her—becoming the kind of woman that married Ed Peletier and stayed married to him. She'd become who Ed had told her to be. She'd been in something of a state of flux since then, taking on and discarding personalities as she went, always seeming to search for something.
She needed space. She needed room to breathe and to be. She needed a chance to shed those past skins and to decide who she really was. She needed to be the one to make the decisions and to say what she wanted.
The little house was safe, it had clearly been comfortable to her, it was close enough to the Kingdom to be somewhat easily protected and to offer her supplies when she needed it, and it was plenty big enough for whatever size nest she might find it necessary to feather for the time being.
"Come on," Daryl said, opening the gate and leading Carol and Sophia inside.
"Don't worry about the grass," Daryl said, leading them down the little concrete walk. "I'll get that mower out the shed and cut it." They followed him up the porch steps, and he opened the door. "Windows are open. Things oughta air out soon. I took the covers off everything that you covered over before you left. Shook 'em out. Folded 'em and put 'em in the closet. Shook the bedsheets and towels. Knocked the top coat of dust off everything. Opened the windows to air things out…just about everything I could think of, really."
"You cleaned it up?" Carol asked, looking around the living room. Really, Daryl thought it looked pretty good, especially given the amount of time he'd spent there to make it look like this.
"Pump's primed and working," Daryl said. "Cleaned out your stove and fireplace. Threw the ash in the outhouse. We'll bring up food, and there's enough dry wood still stored up out there to get you through until we can get you some more cut and stacked."
"I don't understand," Carol said.
Daryl smiled softly at her. He let his eyes trail to Sophia. She had a furrowed brow just like her mother did.
"Ezekiel thought you might could use a little space," Daryl said. "Some room to stretch out. I thought—he weren't wrong. The house is nice. Sound. There's a room for Sophia, and one for Henry, too, if he wants it."
Carol smiled at him.
"You did this?" She asked.
He laughed.
"Said I did. Where the hell you think I've been all morning?" Daryl responded. "I'll help you get the rest of the way settled. We can go back for your stuff. If you're ready now, I mean. Get the rest of it pretty much ready to go by tonight if we work together."
"You'll stay?" Carol asked. "Won't you?"
The question struck Daryl. He had, honestly, not given any thought to where he might stay. He had agreed to stay at the Kingdom until she was ready for him to return to his camp, but that had been when he'd thought she would be remaining there. Today, he hadn't given any thought as to where he might be staying for the next—however long. All he'd thought about today was what Carol might need.
Daryl glanced at Sophia to see if he might see something there—if he might be able to read some reaction to her mother's request. She was looking at him just as placidly as she'd been when they'd been walking and she'd appeared to just be out for a pleasant stroll.
"Ought to let you get settled in," Daryl said. "Have some time with Sophia."
"You shouldn't be travelling in the dark," Carol said. "And if you help with all that…"
Daryl nodded.
"I don't wanna be in the way," Daryl said.
"You've never been in the way," Carol said. There was a touch of scolding to her tone.
Sophia looked at her mother and then at Daryl.
"We'd like for you to stay," Sophia offered. "There's no telling what—might go wrong before tomorrow. In a new house and all…"
Daryl appreciated that it sounded like Sophia was struggling to find a reason for him to stay, and she didn't know enough about any of their experiences to know what might be best to use.
Carol seemed to want him to stay, and Sophia wanted Carol to have what she wanted.
Daryl chewed his lip.
"Got the grass to mow," he said. "Movin' things back here. Wood for fires, and…you'll need some food."
"We'll take care of that early," Carol said. "The food. We'll get supplies and…I'll cook supper while you're mowing the grass. Feeding you is the least I can do. It'll be late, Daryl. You shouldn't leave when it's late. You'll stay. Please?"
Daryl nodded.
"Couch is good," he said.
"Henry isn't here," Carol said. "He won't be for a few days…if he comes then. You could stay in his room."
Daryl shook his head.
"Couch is good," he said. "If you're set on staying—we ought to head back for your things."
Carol nodded, and she followed him back out of the house—back out the way that they'd come. Sophia walked with her. At the gate, she stood to the side and waited while Daryl locked it back to wait on their return.
"Daryl…" she said.
He hummed at her, and then he finally looked at her while he lit a cigarette. She hadn't spoken, but she was half-smiling.
"Thank you," she said.
Daryl felt immediately warm and embarrassed by the thanks. He choked on his reply and finally ended with a nod and a choked sound that he hoped somehow conveyed the "you're welcome…you're always welcome" that he meant.
And, maybe it did, because every time he looked at her after that, as they walked along, he caught Carol looking at him out of the corner of her eye—a soft smile on her lips.