Chapter 11
Carl always kept a keen eye on Rick, waiting to catch whatever free time that the man had to offer.
He was unsure if Carl had always been like this with Rick, or if the kid was still settling into the idea that his father wasn't dead, and the shine of that hadn't worn off.
Whatever the reason was, Sophia always fell back from the pair and drifted his way, to join in on whatever he was busying himself with.
He wondered if Sophia simply didn't care for Rick, felt out of place around the father and son duo, or that she just didn't have ant interest in following them around.
He dropped the pile of firewood outside their tent and Sophia followed suit, bouncing back a step as her collection hit the ground.
He searched the area, desperately seeking out something to do when he noticed Shane dumping the last empty drum into the tray of his truck.
He could see Shane looking over to T-dog and Glenn, who much like him, had fuck all to do, but unlike him they weren't desperate to escape.
"I got it" he barked at Shane with far to much urgency, jumping on the task before it could be offered to anyone else. He didn't give Shane a second to respond before making his way over to the truck with the familiar sound of the light steps beating along behind him.
He had been doing a good job at avoiding Carol all morning and felt the need to continue with it before night hit and he would have to be alone with her again. He knew the racing thoughts would emerge in her presence, just as they had been doing for the last two days.
He opened the door and hoisted Sophia in, waiting on her to climb over to her side before he hopped in. He waited a minute like he always did, as Sophia snapped her seat-belt in and got herself comfortable.
"You good?" he asked as he looked her over, assuring that she did look like she was ready to go.
She gave him a firm nod."I'm good"
He felt better once the camp was out of sight. It was easier to forget about his worries when he could look around without having to see Carol. Without having to wonder what she was thinking or if he was wrongly reading every interaction he had with her.
A part of him was waiting for her to tell him that they needed to talk. Not that she wanted to talk to him - but that she needed to talk to him. He knew there was a very big difference between the two. One happened naturally and came about on it's own. The other was the kind that made his stomach twist in on its self.
It was easier not to think about it when he was away from the camp, because he needed to pay attention to what was going on in his surroundings, more then he did when he had the whole group close by.
Sophia was her usual quiet self, but he could see a determination in her eyes. Whenever they had a job to do, no matter how simple the job was, she was focused on it and she seemed to enjoy completing the tasks he set for them.
This was something they did often. He got bored easily at the camp and always volunteered to get water when they needed it. Most everything they did required water - they needed it for bathing, cleaning, drinking and cooking, so they needed it a lot.
When he pulled up into his usual spot by the water, he noticed Sophia bob around in her spot with anticipation.
They had a system, a routine that they were ready to execute as soon as the truck stopped running.
He could do the jobs himself. Most likely he could do them quicker on his own to. But he was in no rush.
It seemed like everything he did when he spent his days at the camp revolved around him taking his time, because he didn't really have anywhere to be in a hurry. The only time he felt any urgency these days was when he was out hunting or taking down a walker.
And it seemed that Sophia liked to be useful. So he found her small tasks to complete, to make sure she had something to do while she was following him around.
He hopped out of the truck and turned to face her, putting his arms out ready to grab a hold of her before she had even crawled over to the drivers seat.
She had an easier time getting out of the truck then getting in, but his intention wasn't to help her out of the truck, but rather to toss her into it's tray.
Sophia leaned out of the truck and grabbed a hold of his arms while he got a grip on her waist. He held her out in front of him and she instantly tucked her legs up, so she didn't hit the truck as he passed her over into the tray.
Once her feet were steady, he waited to get a nod from her, letting him know that she was fine on her feet and ready for him to let go. He had let go once before, without checking that she was steady and it had almost caused her to fall face first into the hard surface of the tray. It almost gave him a heart attack and he was sure Sophia nearly got her little face smashed in. So now, he waited.
She started as she always did, by passing him the largest drum so he could head of towards the stream, while Sophia began unloading the rest onto the ground.
She dropped them over the edge until the small pile was there, waiting to be filled. Once she was done, she unhooked the trays latch and jumped out, ready to help him fill them.
There were three smaller containers, that he figured held around two gallons, he left those for Sophia. There were a few more that held maybe six gallons and two larger drums that he guessed to be around ten, at the least.
Usually, once Sophia filled the smaller jugs and loaded them into the tray, she would entertain herself by throwing stones into the water or inspecting something she discovered on the ground.
That was their system. Their routine. So when Sophia deviated from their usual course of action, it wasn't hard for him to notice.
He didn't ask her what she was doing when she dragged one of the larger containers over to the water. At first he assumed she was bringing it over for him.
He filled up the last of the drums watching as Sophia went to work on filling the thing by herself, with an even more intense determination in her eyes then she usually held.
He tossed the last one into the tray and turned to see what she was doing and if she had some kind of plan to execute the task, a task that he was fairly sure would be impossible for someone of her size.
He watched the kid dip the drum into the stream before she struggled to drag it out. Her shoulders fell forward and her arms stretched out as she used all her strength to pull the drum along with her. It just didn't seem doable and it was a little pitiful to watch.
She left a small trail behind her, where the drum had indented into the dirt while she attempted to drag it back to the truck. He could have laughed it wasn't such a miserable sight.
He gave her a bit of time, waiting on her to give him some kind of indication that she wanted his help.
After a few minutes it occurred to him that she may never ask for help and there was a possibility that she may be straining herself to hard for something that wasn't really that important.
He made his way over to her, but even when he was close enough for her to hear him, she kept going, struggling to get it done.
"Want me to get it?" he asked, wondering why she seemed so determined to complete the job.
She grunted, ignoring the offer and continued trying to pull the drum.
"Thing weighs more then you do. It's to big. Let me get it."
She looked up at him, her face full of anguish and despair. He knew the feeling well, but he didn't understand how a water jug could bring on so much self-hatred. He let out a heavy sigh and took one side of the jug. "Come on"
A small smile formed as her eyes met his and she lifted the jug with him and took it over to the truck. He didn't know why finishing the chore meant so much to her, he didn't know why it mattered at all. But it had.
He watched her smiling to herself as they got back into the truck, trying to understand the kid that sat beside him. He knew it had to be about more then a drum of water. But he didn't know the girl well enough to even venture to guess was going on in her head.
He cleared his throat as the truck came to life and turned his sights back to the trail ahead of them. "You did good"
From the corner of his eye he noticed her smile spread a little further before she looked back to the window as she usually did, ready to enjoy the sight of scenery as they passed it.
He was used to her being silently at his side. He never once got the feeling she liked him or enjoyed his company. He doubted that anyone had ever found him especially entertaining. Sophia just wanted to be where she felt safe and he was happy that he had that to give, especially since there was very little that he had to offer the kid.
He imagined that a year ago, if someone had presented a picture of what his life would be like now, he would have been annoyed at the idea of have a child glued to his heels. But now he knew it was actually easier for him when she was near by, he liked that he didn't have to wonder where she was. It freed up a lot of space in his head.
He parked the truck in its usual spot on the outskirts of the camp and noticed Carl heading towards them with a beaming grin.
After she swung the door open Sophia turned to look at him, her eyes met his for a moment, before she leaped from the car and ran off.
He knew she wasn't awaiting permission from him, but she always looked at him the same way before she wondered of. An empty and emotionless guise that he could never decipher.
He assumed it was just her own way of letting him know she was leaving and maybe waiting to see if he objected. Maybe she was assuring herself, that he thought she was safe to run off.
He kept a close eye on Sophia as he walked through the camp, heading over to the tent.
He wanted to make sure he had everything ready to leave in the morning. He'd been keeping such a close eye on the kid that he didn't noticed Carol sitting on his sleeping bag, the mock bed that he still pretended to use. Though now he wondered if it was purely for Ed's benefit, rather then working to keep the peace.
It wasn't like everyone didn't already know he was crawling in their every night and out every morning. And he understood why they wanted to keep it from Ed, he was dangerous and they didn't want to make him snap. But the voice in his head questioned him, wanting to know if that was the real reason or was it just what he had been led to believe.
It felt like his head was in a constant battle with itself, but he didn't know which side was being logical and which was being irrational.
She looked up as he approached and he noticed then that she was sewing up the holes on Sophia pants, repairing the tares that her tiny fingers had created.
His steps faltered as he got closer and he found himself looking right at her and she seemed to be staring right into his eyes. For a second he thought she was trying to figure out what was going on in his head, just like he was trying to do with her.
He thought about heading back the way he came, maybe go and collect some more sticks or something. Though at this point he knew it would be overkill. They had more then enough to last a few days.
"Everything go alright" she asked as her eyes focused back on the needle and thread.
The question was reasonable and he intended to answer it. But he also felt like her voicing it meant that he had to to sit down.
"Yeah. She's with Carl and Lori. Rick, he ain't far off" he said, nervously dropping himself down beside her. Carol nodded as she forced the needle through the fabric once more.
He watched the way her fingers danced the needle around with precision and was fairly certain that she could complete the job with her eyes closed.
"She always done that" Daryl asked looking at the bright red patches that were now covering the knees of the kids pants.
Carol seemed to consider the question for a moment before looking up at him with an insincere smile. He could see in her eyes that it was a touchy subject and she was looking him over for some sign of judgement, but he knew she wouldn't find any.
"She has. Ever since she was small, but it's gotten worse the last year or so". He watched her shrug and look back down to the pants to finish up the patches.
"We do strange things when we're not coping" she said quietly, her voice flooded with guilt that he desperately wanted to erase, but knew he never could.
As he sat quietly considering the statement he felt her eyes on him again.
"You wanna talk about it Daryl?"
"Bout what" he answered far too quickly, with a crease formed in his brow and a bit more bite in his words then he would like.
"You've barely spoken in days" she pointed out, ignoring his tone and offering him a softened smile as she set the pants down beside her and turned to face him.
He rubbed his arm nervously and looked around, trying to find a way out of this conversation.
She sighed and nodded, seemingly to herself more then to him. "Well, when you're ready"
She sounded calm and comfortable with leaving it at that.
He couldn't bring himself to look at her as she slowly stood up, her hand touching his shoulder as she passed him. It was a simple touch that she often granted him as she passed him and he responded as he always did, by reaching up in time to touch her fingers as they slid over his shoulder.
He knew he should have gone after her. Taken her somewhere to talk. He should have told her what was going on. But the thought that she would tell him that his concerns were right, had damn near terrified. He was starting to wonder if not knowing was better then knowing.
He knew that the voice in his head that argued with him wasn't always right, but it wasn't always wrong either.
If it was right about this, it would be so much worse then any other time, because he had never had so much to loose.