Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

––

They had a full breakfast Jerry's family own diner, Carol and Michonne stopped by the store to get gas and some snacks for the trip, and Andre told Dale all about their plans. Nadia was still working on the dress, and Carol told him to tell her it'd be fine if she needed more time. She still wore the one Nadia had given her, because it was so light and great for the summer sun. Not to mention she looked pretty hot in it. She wasn't going to lie. She'd done her makeup and braided her hair, so she looked and felt really pretty. Michonne had to step up her game, or she'd look like the sloppy lesbian half of this parenting couple. She threw on a dress and tennis shoes and let Carol braid her dreads. It was out of boredom, because Andre couldn't decide on what shoes to wear.

"Let me know how the park is. I might go up there myself with Nadia." Dale tossed in a couple of brownies Nadia had made. "Don't forget that sunscreen."

Trust me, I won't. I burn horribly. Carol picked Andre up to keep him from running out the door, and he smiled at her, asking if they were going yet. She nodded.

"We'll bring you back a prize," Michonne promised Dale. "Want a stuffed animal or funnel cake?"

"My heart says funnel cake, but my doctor says stuffed animal."

"All right. I'll win you something huge." Michonne collected the bags. "Do either of you have to potty before we go?"

Carol narrowed her eyes to slits at her.

"It's an hour trip, and you both drank a lot at breakfast and have small bladders. It's a valid question."

Carol flipped her off.

"It's the truth, and while it's a tempting offer, I'll stick to what I know." She smirked. "Andre?"

"I gotta go." He nodded.

"You wanna take him? I can put these up and come back."

Carol shook her head and set Andre down, taking his hand and heading to the bathroom. She was able to wait inside with him, because she couldn't hear him. She chose to wait outside the door anyway, and she wondered what today would have in store for them. She hoped it was a good day. The weather was supposed to be warm and cloudy, and it wasn't supposed to rain again for a couple days, so she was hopeful.

"Hey." Daryl stepped out of the back, adjusting the sleeves to his shirt. "Why are you always here?"

It is the only store within fifteen minutes of my house, she teased and smiled at him. But I can stop coming by and just go to the actual store thirty minutes away. They make my favorite chocolate cake, too.

"Yeah, but think of how it'd hurt Dale and Nadia." He looked down and noticed the dress she wore. He'd seen it in Nadia's studio, but he'd never seen it on a person. It was a little loose on the mannequin and dull in the attic, but fuck, it was really nice on her. Nice and hung on her hips, and he could almost see her bare leg from how she was leaning against the wall. His mouth ran dry.

Nadia gave it to me yesterday after I ruined my dress, she explained when he kept eyeing the dress. I doubt I do it any justice, but I didn't steal it or anything.

"No, I didn't think you did. I... You just look... uh, you look tall. Are you wearing heels or something?" He brought a hand from his head to hers and found she was almost his height. "Yeah, we're about the same height."

I'm wearing wedges. She straightened her posture. It is summer, and I don't want the hem to drag the ground.

"Smart." He cleared his throat. "I should get back to work, but it's a nice a dress."

Thank you. We're heading to the theme park today. It's supposed to the biggest hit this summer. Have you gone?

"I'm not a theme park person, but if I get my nephew, we might swing by. Let me know if it's worth it."

For sure. Just let me know...when he's coming. I'd love to meet him.

"Why?" He didn't mean for it to sound so rude, and even though it didn't matter, because she hear the tone, he still didn't mean for it to sound so harsh. He could hardly help it. Nobody ever wanted to meet any of his family without wanting something, and he knew she wasn't like that, but why was she so invested in his life? They were sort of...acquaintances, but not really, so why did she care?

He's your family, isn't he? I'd love to meet Peter, and your brother, too, if you'll let me. It's your choice, and I wouldn't want to rush anything. We're hardly friends, but you know I'd like us to be. She was about to say more when Andre stepped out and was ready to go. Oh, Andre, this is my friend, Daryl. Daryl, this is my godson, Andre.

"Hey, little buddy." Daryl bent down and held his hand out, getting smacked with sobbing wet hand that smelled of soap. He must have forgotten to put paper towels in there last night. He knew there was something, but he thought it was the sweeping. He thought wrong, evidently, and now he had a child's poorly rinsed off hands to show for it.

"Hi." Andre beamed at the stranger and headed out to find his mom.

Carol chuckled and waved goodbye to Daryl, catching up to Andre before he was out the door.

"You gotta come out and say it, or should I?" Dale tossed a roll of paper towels at Daryl.

Daryl tore one off and dried his hands, tucking the roll under his arm. "That I shouldn't shake hands with a kid? Probably can say that myself."

"You'll have to admit it sooner or later, you know."

"Admit what? She's hot, okay? I'll say that, but I am leaving this town. She's helping me so I can leave faster, so drop it."

"Only if you promise to top by now and then after you leave."

"I can't." He lifted his head to meet Dale's eyes. "I won't come back once I leave, and it's not against you. I just don't...come back to visit places I used to live in."

He nodded. "And if Carol...asks you to visit?"

"Same answer. It's why I don't make friends, because everything is temporary." He pulled the roll out from under his arm. "Sorry, man, but that's...just how I live. Once I find a place I like... I dunno, maybe I'll change."

Dale chuckled with no trace of humor to the sound, and he studied Daryl for a moment. "Or...maybe you don't like it anywhere, because you don't like yourself."

Daryl felt like Dale had punched him square in the jaw, and all that fell out were a couple of strained breaths. He didn't know how to respond, and Dale didn't seem interested in a response any. He dropped his eyes when customers came in, and he stepped into the bathroom to replace the roll of paper towels, catching a glimpse of his reflection. He averted his eyes and walked out, going to the back to restock...anything.

– – –

They had spent the entire morning riding rides and trying anything the venders were selling, Michonne had taken so many pictures, and Carol couldn't stop grinning. They were having such a good time, and they had stopped for lunch at the pizza place. They took that time to rest their feet and look over the park from the picnic tables. There were so many people here, and it was loud and hectic, but it was the most fun Carol'd had in months. It was the most Michonne had laughed in weeks, and it was the hyperest Andre had gotten in a day.

When the sun sank beneath the clouds, the park came alive in colors and music, and Michonne wanted to hit up all the games. She owed Dale a gift, and Carol had a really great arm for throwing. Andre was pumped and picked out the water shooting game. Michonne was a pro at it, and Carol just have it a shot for the hell of it. Andre was just the worst, but he had fun with it. They couldn't ask for more.

Michonne and Carol talked about old times at the town fair and how some of the games were similar, and Andre held onto their hands. Mostly they were stick together, because of the cotton candy and funnel cake. Michonne had some hand sanitize in her purse, but she probably needed a bathroom to really scrub this type of sticky off. She couldn't wait to hold his hand and not touch everything he'd put into his mouth. She wasn't sure it was possible, but she had high hopes for the future.

Carol spotted the hoop toss game and went for it, Michonne stood beside her with Andre, and they watched as she handed the game its ass on a neon pink hoop. Michonne let Andre pick out the prize since Carol won it for him, and he settled on a purple money. Michonne was left to hang onto it, but oh well. He would sleep with it once and then it would join the mass of toys she had to trip over on the way to the bathroom at night.

Michonne and Carol both won a prize at the bottle-ball game, Carol picked out a stuffed baseball bat, and Michonne won Dale a green stuffed bird. It was ugly as all get out, but she knew Dale would love it. He'd add it to his collection of junk in his RV. Michonne would have to see if she could borrow it again for another road trip next year. She would love to see the Grand Canyon, and maybe Carol would tag along too. Carol and hopefully her hope and cheerful personality. If not, she and Rick were going to sit down and talk about it. She doubted Rick could help, but she was out of options. Everyone would spill the beans to Carol, but Carol wouldn't talk to Rick even if he was the last man on earth.

"Okay, I think we should get some ice cream and head home," Michonne signed over the noise, speaking to her son as well. "Do you want anything else? Nachos? A hot dog?"

"Nachos!" Andre yelled out over the noise, begging. "Please, please, please."

"Fine but no ice cream."

"Aww, Mommy, that's not fair."

"That's life." She turned to Carol. Anything?

I'm fine, but t—

"Hey, watch it." A man who had completely bumped into Carol shouted at her as she tripped sideways, and he snorted at her. "Are you blind? I'm walking here."

She didn't say anything, just made an apologetic gesture and tried to walk away.

"What, are you deaf? You ain't gonna apologize?"

"Nathan, cut it out," a girl softly pleaded. "We just got here. You're gonna get us kicked out."

"This bitch is being rude. First she runs right into me, and now she's blowin' me off with the silent treatment, like I'm in the wrong."

"You were the one who ran into her," Michonne corrected, moving Andre behind her. "You should apologize to her."

"Excuse me?" He scoffed and chose to get in Carol's face instead. "If she has something to say, let her say it. Come one, bitch, say something."

"Nathan, back off!" the girl hissed.

"Fuck, let's just leave him." A younger boy in a hoodie suggested and walked off.

"Fine by me." The girl followed suited and rolled her eyes at this Nathan.

"Just go back to your friends and leave us alone." Michonne tried to get in between him and Carol. "Now."

"Not until I hear her apologize."

"Hey, buddy, cut it out," a man who had seen everything butted in. "Leave the lady alone, or pick on someone your own size."

"The fuck you just say?"

Michonne grabbed Carol's wrist and hauled her away in one hand with her son in the other. They didn't get nachos, just headed for the car, and Andre pouted, because he got neither an ice cream cone nor nachos. Carol apologized and felt lousy, and Michonne assured her it wasn't on her at all. They had a great time, and Michonne made plans to go home and have some ice cream and look over the pictures together. It brought the mood up, and Carol suggested getting some fudge syrup and chopped nuts. Michonne was glad things were back to how they were, and it stuck with them on the drive back home.

Andre passed out, Carol was well on her way to passing out, and Michonne pulled over at Dale and Nadia's house to drop off the stuffed animal. It was a little after seven, so they were bound to be awake, and Carol roused when the door closed, feeling the car vibrate. She unclasped her seat belt and opened the door, reaching down and undoing the straps to her wedges. She tumbled out of the car and almost into the cool grass but caught herself on the door. She looked up at the unfamiliar house and realized they weren't home just yet.

She spotted Dale and Michonne on the porch, Dale waved to her, and she waved back, heading to see what was going on. Michonne reminded her of the toy she won for him, Carol sleepily nodded and rubbed her eye, and Dale offered them some pie. Michonne didn't want to be rude, but she was ready to be at home in pajama shorts and no bra, and luckily Andre was out cold in the car. She used him as her excuse.

"I'll see you tomorrow." Michonne guided Carol back to the car. "I need so much sleep."

Ice cream and photos for breakfast? Carol sloppily grinned.

"Why not?" Michonne returned it. "Watch your head."

– – –

They spent the morning looking at pictures and having ice cream, Michonne decided to take Andre into work with her today instead of calling the babysitter, and Carol was off to see Daryl. She had to stop by her cottage and wrap her ankle from the shove she'd gotten last night, but otherwise she was ready to go. She changed into shorts and t-shirt, tying her tennis shoe strings and heading out. She had the bat to deliver to him for his nephew, and maybe she could a little more painting for him. She was seriously behind.

She arrived at his house a little after noon, seeing the front door was ajar, and she hurried inside, knocking loudly on the wall, but there was no response. Spike did come running from down the stairs at the noise, and she caught his face in her hands, seeing he was completely fine. She relaxed only slightly at that. It could be that Daryl hadn't closed the door all the way because he lived out the middle of the woods, and he was listening to music and just didn't hear her.

She padded up the stairs to his bedroom to see if he was there, but his bed was made up, and the outline for the house was thrown to the floor. She noticed the beer cans lining the desk and turned to Spike, and he stood up at her gaze, barking as if to get her attention, to make her follow.

She sped after him, minding her ankle on the stairs, and he escorted her out through the back door, which was also left open. She hurried after Spike, following him down a trail and deeper into the woods. She was grateful it was a path and the branches weren't too overgrown. She had to duck a few, noting how some were hanging and others were lying on the ground. She also spotted some dragging footsteps and prayed he was all right. She hoped he was just drunk. Drunk and okay.

The duo came to the end of the trail, Carol ducked under the arched branches and found a dock, her heart stopping at Daryl sitting at the edge of it. She scrambled down the dock and over to him, finding an empty bottle of whiskey beside him along with the rest of the beers. She dropped down beside him, and he was still conscious, but he was smelled like a cheap liquor store. She groaned and tried to help him stand up, but he didn't budge.

She huffed and tugged on his sleeve. He had to get away from the edge. She couldn't drag his ass out of the water, so he had to move his ass. Ugh, why did he weigh so much? All that muscle. Jesus H. She smacked his shoulder and shook him. Get up!

"You should give up." He was laughing. "You're gonna get nowhere—fast."

She glared.

"It must suck to not be able to talk." He hiccuped and groaned. "You must be...like, super pissed and just signin' away, and it's... it's kinda funny to think about."

Like this moment right now, you incredible ass? She doubted he could understand her signing right now, but she was willing to try.

"Hmm, too fast." He pulled his legs out of the water and looked her over. "Do you make noise? Like...any noise?"

She frowned at him. What are you asking me? His words were slurring, and his mouth didn't match up to any actual words she could make out. Daryl?

"I bet...fuckin' you is...an experience. Like...am I good? Am I not?" He chortled. "You'd be one hell of a self-esteem shaker. I'd love to see ya cum." He reached for a beer can, but she smacked it out of his hand. "Ow."

Get up. She stood up and offered her hand.

He squinted up at her. "God, you have great legs. Wouldn't mind 'em wrapped around my waist... I'd fuck you for hours."

She blushed and moved back from him. Oh, God, what the hell was he talking about? She'd only made out her legs and fucking her for hours.

"I'd blow a load in you so hard."

She walked away and covered her face with her hands. This was not how today was supposed to go. They were supposed to fix the house. She wasn't supposed to listen to his drunken, horny ramblings. God damn it. She had to get him inside. She just had no idea how she was going to do that. She wondered if she had the strength to carry him. There was really only one way to find out.

She turned as he peeled himself up off the dock, and she watched him trip and fall into the lake. She cursed and smacked a hand to her face before diving in after him. She used the momentum of the dive to plunge deep into the inky waters, his body was falling fast, and she reached out for his hand drifting in the darkness...

It was ten o' clock in the evening, Daryl woke up with a pounding headache on the floor of his bedroom, and Spike wagged his tag at him. He groaned at how much his mouth tasted like lake water, and he pushed himself up carefully, feeling his clothes crunchy on his body. He'd definitely fallen into the lake. He had done this a couple of times before, but mostly it was in the park or something. Never in his own backyard, but hey, first time for everything.

He threw the clothes off and stumbled to his shoulder, grabbing his toothbrush on the way. He scrubbed everything down and cleaned the lake from his teeth. He washed his hair and wanted to make it illegal to buy booze for himself. Hell, he was so trashed when he bought that beer and whiskey. He didn't know why that guy sold it to him. He walked home, but shit. He could have gotten hurt. Guess this was one of those moments where if he'd made friends with everyone, he'd been safe. What a cutthroat town. Common decent didn't exist unless you were friends. Ugh.

He dried off and changed into a hoodie and sweats, going downstairs to find anything to help with this hangover. If he still had the bourbon in the fridge, he was going to barf on it. It'd be a shame. He had leftovers in there from the Horvath's. Maybe the puke would miss it.

As he dragged himself down the hall, he began to realize he shouldn't be in the house. If he'd fallen into the lake, he must have blacked out. How the hell did he get home? Did Dale come and check on him? Probably the do-good cashier at the liquor store ratted him out to his boss. He didn't want to deal with Dale's disappointment right now. He had to sit there and bear it the entire time Dale lectured him on the dangers of drinking so heavily alone at the lake, and he told Dale he wouldn't do it again. He didn't intend to, but hey, triggers were sneaky bastards, and his childhood had been utter trash. It wasn't too out of reality for him to drink and slowly become his bastard father. At least he had no kids to beat.

He turned left to go through the living to get to the kitchen since he didn't want to trample through paint cans. He found the aspirin and cup of water waiting for him, and he was glad Dale had been kind to offer the pills and water first. Last time had been hell, and his eyes almost boiled out of his head. He'd have to thank the old man and beg him to just lay off. He was the asshole who had to play therapist and try to get inside his head. He didn't ask for it. There were so many things he didn't ask for but got anyway.

He set the glass down and noticed the lights to the study were on. He pushed off the counter and shuffled over to the doorway to find Carol peeling the tape off the crown molding in his hoodie and his ex's jeans. He blinked and stumbled back at the memories of her help him. Oh, fuck, that wasn't a dream? Then...he really said those things? Fuck! He didn't mean them. Well, he did mean some of them, but not the ones he may have said. Why couldn't be remember?! This was why he didn't drink whiskey. This was why he didn't drink period! Shit, shit, shit. How was he going to make this right? He was pretty sure he asked if she made any noise when she orgasmed. God, did he ask if he could wear her thighs like a scarf for an afternoon? Or was that after he blacked out? No, no, no, did he say the one with his tongue and her—

You're awake. She looked him over for any injures having set and was glad to see he didn't have any. Aside from the knot he likely had in his head when she pulled too hard and caused him to smack against the house. It might not have been an accident, but it certainly wasn't consciously done.

"I—I am." He cut a look from the left to the right, trying to think of what to say.

So, do you still want to know if I orgasm silently? She smiled sweetly, and he went blood red, stammering and panicking.

"Fuck. I—I'm so sorry. I become an asshole when I get drunk." He grimaced. "I'm sorry. I don't...think of you like that. I really don't."

So I don't have great legs?

"Why are you doing this to me?" He slumped against the wall and slid down.

She laughed softly and sat down in front of him in the doorway. Because you made me dig you out of a lake and bring you home sobbing wet. Do you have any idea how hard is it carry a body upstairs?

"Don't ask questions, but yes." He exhaled and looked her over, reaching out and tugging on the bunched up material of his hoodie. "This is mine."

Yeah, your ex has slutty taste, and my clothes weren't dry. I had to improvise, and you weren't conscious to ask.

"I'm sorry I made you jump into a lake after me, but thank you. For the rescue and everything. I coulda died if you weren't there."

Spike would've pulled you out. He's a good boy. She looked over at him, and he jumped over and slid into her lap.

"I dunno. He seems to like you more." He scratched behind his ear, and Spike cut him a warning look before he licked his hand. "He doesn't like when I drink either."

I can't imagine why. You're such a prince.

"Look, I'll make it up to you. I'll help you paint the living room. I think the blue would suit it best." He minded Spike and stood up, offering her a hand, and she accepted it. "I'll get the tape. Why don't you open the paint and get new brushes?"

Why all of a sudden do you want to paint the living room?

"I dunno. It's not as noisy as flooring."

Fair point.

He pushed the couch into the study and began to tape edge of everything while she prepared the rollers and brushes, and Spike lied down in the newly painted study. Daryl watched her carry in the paintbrushes and pan for the rollers, noting that she was astonishingly the same size as his ex-girlfriend. The pants were made to be tight, but she wore them well. Hell, he'd have to gift them to her, but the idea of giving her pants that accentuated her ass didn't seem like a good idea. Especially given his harassment of her earlier. He really needed to never drink in front of her ever again. No more talks wit Dale, that was for sure.

She set a hand on his arm, and he looked over at her. What made you want to drink? And don't say you just felt like it and got carried away. You were looking to get drunk. I found the bourbon and scotch under the sink, so please tell me what's going on.

"I had a bad day, that's all."

Is there anything I can do to help?

"Just...keep me company, please."

She smiled softy. Of course.

"I'll take the roller. Do you want to do the outline?" He bent down and looked up to see her answer, and it was a yes. He watched her carefully skim the edges of the tape, and he began to work on the wall as she finished. He liked having her around, he was starting to realize. He hadn't had a friend in years, and maybe he needed one. He'd never been friends with a girl. He wasn't even friends with his nephew's mother, so he wasn't sure how this would work, but he should probably stop staring at her ass when she bent over. That would be a good start.

She joined him with a roller once the walls were all outline, and they quietly worked together to paint the walls. They didn't notice as they fell into unison, moving from space to space, Carol covering any and all spots he missed with her killer vision, and Daryl tried to make her job easier, but he wasn't a painter. He normally hired someone to paint, or he let the new owners go and just figure it out themselves. It was a way to bond with the house, which is probably why he didn't do it. He never set roots, and he couldn't to do it now. Having a friend didn't involve roots. It just...involved conversation and shit. He could do that. She was easy to talk to, and she always seemed to be listening, and it wasn't just to respond to him. That was real nice.

Daryl felt something wet slid across his arm, Carol gasped and realized she's zoned out and painted his arm instead of the wall, because he'd zoned out and stopped painting. He turned his arm over, and she apologized, but told her it was fine. He set the roller down and went over to the TV stand to get a rag to clean his arm. She went to his side to help, and he wiped a paintbrush across her cheek. Her mouth fell open in shock then twisted in a cocky smirk and she rollered his face.

"Hey, hey." He jumped back and blindly swatted at her, knowingly ruining his on hoodie in this process. "Cut it out!"

She grabbed a paint brush and dipped it onto the paint and flicked him with it.

"My floor!" He ducked the paint and heard it smack against the plastic sheets. "You're a shit."

She laughed and dodged his brush, but she didn't expect him to grab her. She yelped and tried to escape, but he rolled her hair and her neck, and she elbowed him to get free. She wiped the paint from her neck and glowered at him, reaching for the bucket of paint.

Spike heard squealing and grunting and lifted his head. He heard Carol give a yelp, and he darted into the next room, ready for a fight, but the humans were just on the floor, wrestling with paintbrushes. He barked and panted, wagging his butt before charging at them to join.

"Spike, no, wait!"

The can of paint gushed out onto the floor, Carol's paintbrush flew into the air, and Daryl was crushed by both Carol and the dog. He groaned and remembered he was still hurting from the fall into the lake and the hangover, and he hated his life choices. At least Carol didn't dig at him, unlike the dog who hopped up and demanded to be wrestled with. Daryl really wanted that cat now.

Carol sat up, pulling her leg over his waist and calming Spike down. He was so excited for play, and that wasn't what was meant to happen. She saw the paint spreading across the living room floor and bit her bottom lip. She didn't want this to happen. She honestly had no idea a paint fight would break out or that they'd be tackled by a seven-plus pound dog. She only wanted to paint and make the living room pretty with company, but instead it looked like a crime scene.

"Kill me." Daryl hadn't opened his eyes since Spike tackled. "Please."

She instead reached over and moved paint-crusted hairs from his face, he opened his eyes, and they both laughed. God, this was such a mess.

"I'll just put down carpet," he grumbled.

Probably best if we can't get it up.

"What we?"

We are a we. Deal with it. She looked over at Spike who smacked her with his paws, and she kissed his brow. You, too.

"So...who showers first?" Her eyes widened, and she gripped his shirt, and he felt threatened for a moment. She was excited, and she was grinning. He didn't know what she was trying to do until he saw her mouth moving. Fuck, she was so excited...she was trying to speak. "Carol, I—"

Could I use the tub? Her eyes were sparkling, and he couldn't look away from her. The one upstairs? Please? I'll clean it up if the paint stains.

"Go right ahead."

She took off like a shot up the stairs, and he laughed after. He didn't expect today to end like this, but why the hell not? He could use some laughter in his life. Of course he might need more booze if he look at the floor he finished only in March.

––

They settled on the back porch once clean and dressed, Daryl some burgers for dinner as a thank you for saving his life and all, and they watched Spike chase the fireflies. Carol hadn't stopped smiling since he woke up, and Daryl had a small smile on his lips himself, and Spike was fucking ecstatic about the whole day. Daryl tossed him a small burger, and he had been jumping around ever since.

Carol lightly tapped his shoulder, he looked over at her, and she signed: Are you going to the town fair on the twentieth?

"I dunno. Never went any other year."

Why not? It's a lot of fun and full of homemade foods and games. There's fireworks at the end of it, and free t-shirts. She turned to face him. We could go together.

"Together?" He straightened up. "I mean...I dunno."

It'll be a lot of fun. My friend Michonne would love to see Spike again, and her little boy is very sweet. He'd love to hang out with you. You could play games with him, and I can show you my ball toss game. I'm amazing. She flashed an jesting smile, and his heart sank somewhat. What do you say?

"I might have to go into the city," he lied, averting his eyes. "I ain't one for crowds anyway. Sorry."

Could you think about it at least? She studied him for a moment, and he sighed softly. For me?

"That's not fair," he murmured.

It's not fair that I want you to meet my other friends? That I want to show you a wonderful part of our town? Daryl, come on, that isn't about fair. It's just one day. It'll be great. I promise. If you're too uncomfortable once we're there, we can go get some beers and sit by the docks. We don't have to stay. I just want you to try. This is a special place to live, and I'm not trying to make you stay, but I am trying to make you see this isn't just some sleepy, boring town to recover in and then leave forever.

"You sound like Dale." He rolled his eyes.

Dale has a point. Please?

"I know Michonne wants this place, so if you're just trying to get close to me for her, I can cut her a good deal. Don't worry about it. I'll finish the paint and furnishings myself." He didn't make eye contact and bit into his burger. "It's cool. I'm used to it."

Her eyes burned, and she opened her mouth to object, but of course nothing came out. She stood up and went inside, and he didn't follow her. She grabbed her things and left. She gripped the steering wheel to her car tightly, steadying her erratic breathing as tears burned her eyes, and she backed up and headed for home. She didn't make it ten minutes down the road before she had to stop.

She rested her forehead on her hand on the wheel and clenched her jaw. How dare he say that to her?! She had no intentions of asking him to lower the selling price for Michonne. She genuinely wanted to be his friend, and he thought it was for personal gain. Did she really come off as selfish? All she wanted was to let him see the beauty of this town, and he just assumed she had to want something from him. God, what a jerk. She wanted nothing from him. Friendship, maybe, if that was so terrible.

She inhaled deeply and lifted her head. If friendship really was the worst thing someone could do to him then fine. She wouldn't be his friend. Clearly, it was asking for too much from him, and she wouldn't want to add the reasons why he's miserable and spends his mornings getting drunk. If she wanted to be with someone who made her feel like a burden, she'd just move back home and spend time with the people there. She wouldn't live that life here. She moved to get away from all of that, and she would be damned if she let Daryl make her feel like this.

She dried her eyes and drove home.