Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
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Carol was heading over to Daryl's house that next week with the bat she'd won for his nephew. She meant to bring it around sooner, but she'd gotten caught up at work and mostly forgot she had it. She'd left it in her car last night for this moment, and now that she was off work, it was getting done. She just had to lock out and drive there.
Michonne was counting down the drawers in the office, and Carol knocked on the door. She lifted her head and flashed a grin at her. "Hey, you look cute."
She felt cute today. She let her hair be nature and worked with the waves to look like natural yet artificial curls, and she'd thrown on her favorite red tank top and matching cardigan. The dark jeans were the only thing clean from the dryer, so it was a win. She hadn't bothered with makeup, though. Maybe next time. It wasn't like she had someone to impress. Not really.
"Got a hot date?" Michonne was teasing, but honestly it'd be nice to hear a yes.
Not quite. I'm going to stop by Daryl's to give him a toy for his nephew. She sat down beside Michonne and tucked hair behind her ear. I just have to ask you something.
"If I think you and Daryl are a mistake, it's a yes. He's a drifter with a lease. I love you, but that's my honest opinion."
It wasn't about Daryl, but I'll take that into consideration should I pursue a relationship with him. She cleared her throat and locked her eyes in Michonne's. This might seem like a weird question, but is there anything going on between you and Rick?
Michonne nearly dropped the half-full roll of quarters and stammered, blinking in surprise. "What?"
Just answer the question, Mich, please. It took sheer willpower to not avert her eyes. Honestly.
"We...have talked lately. I mean, we have kids. I mean, we have boys who are nearly the same age, and we bump into each other a lot. Carl and Andre have similar interests. If someone's talking, don't listen to it. We are...sort of friendly, but I wouldn't do that to you."
Do you like him in that way? You can be honest. I want you to be honest, and it's okay if you do. He is very attractive and thoughtful. And you both have a lot in common, like you said. Attraction can't be help, you know. In some case it should not only be helped, but avoided. This isn't one one of those times, though, so if you—
"No, shut up." She averted her eyes and returned to her count. "You're being...weird. We're just two parents with kids who are friends. That's all. I promise."
Carol let her hands loudly drop to her lap and nodded, standing up and leaving to go meet Daryl. She glanced back at Michonne and waved with a smile. Michonne returned it, and Carol departed. She wasn't buying it, but she wouldn't mention it now. She had other people to occupy her mind. Like the nephew she was so going to see a picture of. She loved kids—clearly—and she wanted to put a face to the name. She hoped he had pictures since his walls were so bare. It was a wonder were all his personal belongings were. She'd have to ask him. Surely he had more than just a few pictures taped to his fridge, right?
At the house Carol was greeted by Spike who was running around the front yard, and Daryl was transferring plants from black plastic holders into the garden on either side of the steps. She hugged and kissed Spike, being tackled almost by the lovey boy, and Daryl called him off so she couldn't end up on the ground with his tongue licking off her face. She joined him by the fresh scent of earth and inhaled deeply, smiling a greeting.
"Hey." He squinted over at her. "Didn't expect you so soon."
Oh? When did you expect me? She reached out and touched the earth, pressing on it lightly to secure the newly transferred flower.
"Dunno, but not when I'm sweatin' and plantin' flowers. I gotta smell like dirt and BO by now." He scooped out the last of the hyacinths and measured it as instructed. "Wind's gonna pick up, and you'll regret it."
She rolled her eyes, because she'd already caught a whiff of him. He smelled of rich earth and spice, nothing gross there at all. She wanted to take the bat from her car and whack him with it, but she wanted to know what he was growing. She was an herb girl, not a flower girl. The last time she tried to grow flowers, some animal would eat them by the time they bloomed, and she'd been left with a massacred garden. So indoor herd garden built into her kitchen wall was a go. All thanks to the Internet for the idea and Shawn for the heavy lifting. She painted them, though, but that hardly counted. She needed a crafting skill. Maybe he'd teach her something.
What are you planting here? She looked over the temporary pots, but they were slightly chewed thanks to the beauty rolling around in the grass behind them.
"Hyacinths and hydrangeas," he replied. "When they bloom next year, it'll be more natural and fill in the spaces. It'll look real good, 'cause of how the different hues of blue cause a pop in color. It'll bring in a buyer."
Wow, you know a lot about flowers. Do you like gardening? She inched closer, crouching down and looking over the little bulbs. What colors did you get? Aside from blue?
"Mostly blue, but I snagged a couple violet and white. It'll match the outside color of the house." He peeked at her face and confessed, "When I was real little...my mom used to have a garden. We shoulda work on it together."
Aww, how sweet. Were you just little chubby little kid with overralls and big cheeks? She grinned at the idea. Did she teach you everything she knew? Like the color popping and stuff?
"Nah, she was terrible at it. She couldn't grow shit." He snorted a laugh. "She wanted to be able to grow flowers, but she either drowned them, planted 'em too close to the surface or...trampled on them by accident. She'd always gripe about it, so I just took over for her. I moved the garden to the side of the house where there was more sun, and we had a couple rose bushes for a while. I...I lied and told her she did all the work. She was happy."
H—how could she be happy? She would have known she didn't do anything. You did all the work, and that was very sweet of you. You must have been a favorite.
"She liked wine." Daryl pressed earth on the soil and stared hard at the brown and blue and green before him. "She was drunk a lot, so it was easy to lie to her."
That's so sad. She must have missed a lot of your childhood. Her lips curved downward, a sorrow to the entire action, and she stood up. I hate drunks. I don't mean any offense to you or your mom, but... God, it's not fair to the people around them, you know? To the people who love them? It breaks my heart.
"Yeah, I guess." He rose and dusted his hands together. "Want some iced tea?"
I would love some, but let me run to my car real quick. I'll meet you inside.
They parted ways and met back up in the kitchen. Spike was stretched out on the cool floor, Daryl washed his hands and scrubbed the dirt out from under his nails, and Carol posed in the doorway with the baseball bat. It was mostly wasted as he was busy trying to clean out his nails, eyes blank as he looked down at his hands, and Carol was almost scared of the emptiness there.
Daryl jolted at a hand touching him and looked over at Carol who's frown had returned. "Tea. Just gimme a sec. Have a seat."
She nodded and sat down at the table, watching him turn the water off and dry his hands. She set the bat on the table and made a face at Spike, who instantly wagged his tail. She gasped softly in an excited tone, and he was on her like white on rice. She giggled as he kissed her face and playfully ruffed in her face for more back scratches. She loved this boy so much. She would steal him and give him sweet kisses every day if she didn't like his owner and if his owner didn't treat him like a little prince, because he was. Yes, he was.
She scratched his chin and gazed at Daryl's back. And if this little guy wasn't Daryl's only companionship when she wasn't around.
"Here." He joined her at the table, eyes on the stuffed bat and snorting a laugh. "The hell is that?"
This is for Peter. She lightly tapped the bat and grinned. If he isn't a sports kind of kid, he can just smack people with it. Annoying, but yeah, it won't hurt.
"I—I'm sorry, who?" He had no idea what she just signed. He'd watched more videos to help him with it, but he'd fall asleep through them.
Your nephew. Your brother's son? She studied him to see if he understood, and the light went off, because he nodded and started to smile appreciatively. I won it at the fair, but I don't have any kids to give it to. Andre got his own from his mom, so I wanted to give Peter something. A gift from his uncle's friend.
"He actually loves baseball. That's too funny." He picked it up. "I dunno when I'll see him next, but he'll love it."
You don't see a lot of him, do you? She sipped her tea. It was a raspberry black tea, and she knew then Nadia had been by sometime. This was her all-time favorite drink of Nadia's, and she could have chugged it down went back for his. But she'd have some self-control. For now.
"Nah, his mom and I don't see eye to eye. I remind her too much of my brother for some reason, and I move around a lot. I get it, but it sucks. He's, like, my only family, and I wish I got more time with him." He set it down on the table. "I'll call him and let him know he's gotta gift waitin' for him from a friend."
You don't have to mention me.
"Yeah, I do. He'll know I didn't win it. I ain't a fair person, and this still smells like funnel cake." He straightened in his chair. "It's real nice of you to get this for him. You barely know me, and him not at all, so thanks."
If you don't mind me asking, do you have a picture of him? She wanted to ask what he meant about Peter's mom and him and also that "like the only family" comment. She wanted to know what might have happened to his brother, but they weren't in that place yet. She hoped to be there soon, but it was heavy. She knew it would be. It was similar to her...past. She didn't want to drudge that up, so he likely didn't want to either. Maybe one day.
"Uhh, sure, hang on." He dug his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through the sample pictures and the work-related items, trying to find the picture of Peter sent to him when school let out. "Shit, I gotta delete this crap."
He found the picture of him and turned the phone over to show Carol, she carefully accepted his phone and saw those Dixon eyes. She smiled and found him to be adorable. He had to look more like his father than the woman she knew was his mother pictured with him with those curly dark locks and strong chin. He would be a handsome man, but for now, he was a cutie. She hoped to meet him one day and get a feel for the face. His distinct energy, another piece of who he was. Carol liked to collect pieces, to bring them together and make them whole. She'd done that for herself, so she liked to do that for others if she could.
She handed the phone back. He's beautiful.
"A good-lookin' kid," Daryl murmured, something his brother used to say. "Why do you want to meet him, though? I mean...why?"
I like meeting people, I suppose. I get to see and meet a variety that come through town, and I liked to expand my social circle. I... I never had much luck with people when I was younger, and I think I'm making up for that now. She paused and searched his eyes. Do you want me to not meet him? If it's too awkward, let me know. I don't have to. It's one hundred percent up to you. If the opportunity comes and you don't feel comfortable with it, don't. It's okay. I... I don't want to be pushy. I'm sorry if I am.
"Nah, you ain't too bad. Met worse." He fished out a piece of ice and handed it over to Spike.
Oh, but I am pushy?
"Yeah," he bobbed his head in agreement, "you are."
She laughed.
"And you've hit me a couple times, too." He couldn't help his laughter when she lightly hit him the exact moment he spoke, and she apologized, promising to stop. "You hit like a kid, can barely feel it."
That's hurtful. She drank her tea and smirked at him, trying not to laugh again, because she'd choke.
Daryl chuckled and rubbed his cheek, peeking at her and wondering if this was what friendship was—laughing together over little traits and good to laugh at qualities? He wasn't sure, but he liked it. The laughing, the way her eyes lit up, the smile that formed on her lips. It was nice, real nice, and he wanted to touch the curves her mouth formed.
What? Carol moved hair from her face and noticed he was still staring at her. Did I just spit on you? God, that's embarrassing. She brought a hand to her mouth and hoped she hadn't.
"No, no, you didn—you didn't spit." He cleared his throat and tried not to blush at being a major idiot. That thought wasn't friendly, and it wasn't going be a reality. Jesus, he went over this with Dale, with himself and with the dog. It wasn't happening. He'd be stupid to make that mistake. He'd never had someone so close, and sex would destroy everything, especially since there was no fucking way she wanted him like that. She'd said over and over she wanted to be friends—friends. That's all. He'd accept that and try. So he needed to stop ogling her like she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.
Hey, you know about the Fourth of July BBQ at the Chamblers? Carol crossed her legs. It's always a great time with so much food. You might want to come. I'm not asking or going to make you. I just thought you'd want to. You liked the fair.
I liked you, he thought to himself but wordlessly nodded. "What's it like?"
Well, if you don't come, I suppose I should tell you what you're missing. A teasing smile ghosted over her lips, and he drank from his cup to repress his idiot brain and its giggly smirk. There's tables loaded with snacks and side dishes for the main meal, and there's more food on the grill. There's drinks and dancing. There's a games and some prizes. We try and eat together, but it hardly works outs. We do all eat dessert together and built a fire pit while the kids play with sparklers. We talk about the June fair and what to do for next year. We... we just get to be a big family, and it's a great time. Oh, and there's a pool this year. They finally got it installed.
"Christ, how big is her backyard?" He shook his head.
It's massive. They wanted a huge one for the pool and the kids they'd adopt one day, but it happened in reverse. Don't worry, though. There's plenty of space for running away.
"Good 'cause if I do, I intend to drink and run."
She pressed her lips together and glanced down at Spike, who rested his head in her lap. Answer me honestly. Are you lonely?
He gulped down the drink of tea he'd taken, ice and all, and he ran his eyes over her face. "Why do you ask?"
Because I asked.
He sighed loudly. "Not really. I like being alone here." Spike huffed at him. "Alone with my dog."
She smiled faintly at Spike but frowned at him. You hurt my heart, Daryl.
"I'm...uh, I'm sorry?" He didn't know how to answer that. "I don't mean to."
I wasn't blaming you for that. I just...want you to be happy, not lonely, and I feel like you lock yourself in this house away from the world. I know it's a rough world, but you deserve to live in it. To find happiness in it. Maybe love. I'm not saying you have to, but you deserve to. In your own time.
"Yeah, me and love just ain't...possible." He looked down into the dark liquid in his cup. "I attract people like me, and people like me just... don't work out."
It doesn't have to be that way. I mean, you attracted me. She leaned forward towards him. We aren't that much alike from what I can tell.
"I...erm, meant relationship-wise," he informed her. "Like...my ex."
Her mouth formed an O then she sat back and scratched neck nervously. I'm sorry. I thought you just meant in general.
"You mention love." He lifted his cup. "Never known it, hope never to."
You've never been in love? Her brows shot up, astounded, and her eyes shimmered in a way he didn't like. Not ever?
"Kinda what never means." He shrugged a shoulder. "I'm fine with it. It's my life, like you probably mentioned, so let's just get back to work."
Carol wanted to talk more on that, but he pulled out a couple bags with scrapers and paint remover. She finished her drink and followed him to the living room, shaking her head at him and his way of thinking. She wished she could show him how good love was. How amazing and filling it felt. How it could change you. It wasn't just about romantic love; it was about love outside his blood, and how that could almost be better for you. Honestly, brotherly love made him a bitter man, so maybe she could help un-make the bitter parts of him. It would make more elbow grease than this floor, but she'd give it a shot.
They worked silently for about an hour when Daryl heard a sharp hiss, instantly tossing a glance to Spike, but he was chilling on the couch. He pushed himself to be sitting back on his heels and saw Carol was cradling her hand. He shot up and saw blood dripping onto the wood. Her index finger was sliced all the way down. He wanted to rattle her. He told her not to put her other hand down near the blade. He also told her not to use the fucking scraper. He could replace scratched or faded floorboards, and he didn't mind to, but he didn't want her messing around with sharp tools and these fumes. He'd made that mistake and tried to pay it forward, but whatever.
They ended up in the kitchen, warm water running over Carol's finger, and Daryl was digging through the drawers for the first aid kit Nadia have given him. Carol felt like a fool and tried to will her finger to stop bleeding, but she'd knicked it pretty good. She'd just have to suffer, humiliated, by her own doing and wait.
"God damn, it's still bleeding." He set the first aid kit down on the counter and shook his head. "Shoulda listened to me."
It wasn't coming off, she protested, signing through the water and causing her finger to bleed a little faster. I lightly—
"See, you're just lyin' to me now." He shook his head. "You don't say lightly and have a cut like that."
Fine, I added a lot of my weight to the damn thing, and I regret it. Are you happy now? Is that what you wanted to hear?
"I want you to trust me when I ask you do something." He squeezed on her finger, and she winced. "Sorry."
She could only squeeze her eyes shut and silently cuss.
He looked at her closed eyes and heaved a sigh. "Not the body fluid I wanted on my hands." He shook his head and pushed that thought away—again—and tended to her wound. He'd gotten proficient at wrapping cuts due to his childhood and clumsy start, so he had her disinfected, ointmented and wrapped in about five minutes.
"You're welcome." He stopped her from trying to sign. "Just...try and not talk."
Her nose sneered at the idea.
"I said try." A smile danced in his eyes, amusement on his lips, and he ducked his head. "Seriously, try."
She set a hand on his arm to get his attention, he swept his head up, and she pointed to the door.
"Oh, you're gonna leave?" The smile vanished instantly, and he bit his lip.
She shook her head and held up her hand.
"Y...you need a hand outside?"
She shook her head again and wiggled her fingers.
"I don't get—Oh! You're gonna step out for five minutes." She nodded, and he felt like a moron. "All right, yeah, take Spike. If you want. He'll probably follow you, though."
She shrugged and stepped outside with Spike on her heels, and she pulled the door closed while Daryl cleared the counter. He trashed the wrappers and moved to the study to peek out the window at her and Spike, and he smiled to himself at the sight of them. He might not have love or a relationship, but he was happy. He was happy here with them, and while it was mixed up in his head, he would only be friends with Carol. Honestly, it was for the best. He'd leave once this house was finished, and she would likely have a new man by that time. They would both move on. All he had to do was stop being attracted her, which Dale made impossible with all his comments. Also which Carol made impossible by looking good all the time. And if she looked average in jeans and a t-shirt, she still had a fantastic body. He could hardly keep his eyes to himself, and he felt like an asshole, because they were friends. Or getting there, and he'd been such a jackass to her up until this point. He had no right to stare, but Jesus H, did she own any jeans that were baggy? Would it kill her to wear loose jeans? He always thought he was a boob man, but then he met her. He had no clue what kind of man he was anymore.
– – –
Night had settled over the their town, the night sky shining with stars and a lovely quarter moon. Michonne checked in on her son and his new best friend, seeing they were still passed out on his bed, laid out side by side but Andre's feet were by Carl's head and vice versa, so they had rolling room. It wasn't the largest bed in the world, but they were both small boys. They both slept like rocks so far. She'd have to remembered the water park next time Andre was rowdy, because she'd never had such an easy time putting him to bed before now.
She pulled the door shut, letting the Spiderman nightlight fill the room and closing off any outside noise. She didn't mind if one or both of them woke up, but she didn't want the day to be over. It'd only really began a few hours ago, and it'd been great to get out and play with the boys. She hadn't expected the water park to be so much fun. It was just like a normal park for playing with no actual pools or slides or anything, but water ran through the play sets and ran down on unsuspecting mothers who were lured over to the slide by scheming children. She'd been laughed at so hard before, but she paid them back, and then she was laughing so hard.
She sat down on the couch and accepted back her glase of rose zfrom Rick, pulling her legs in and smiling as she told him the boys were still asleep. "I guess this has turned into a slumber party."
He chuckled. "Yeah, it has."
"Don't worry. If you want to sleep here too, Andre has a Spiderman sleeping bag. You can probably fit one leg into it."
"Wow, one whole leg? That's... that's so tempting." She laughed, and he couldn't resist joining her. "I—I don't know what to say. I'm flattered, though. Very flattered."
She drank from her glass and propped her arm on the back of the couch, cheek resting against her knuckles. "I know it's difficult to hear about Lori moving on and having another child, but it's just a part of life. We all move on at some point, and we change. It can't be helped. I know that doesn't make it easier, because you love her, but you'll come a point where you're okay with it. You might even want to meet the baby."
He inhaled deeply. "I've met her husband before. We all had dinner while her mom watched Carl, and he's a good guy. I like him and trust him with both Carl and Lori, but...I never thought we'd come to that point, you know? The divorce, the move, the...rapid changes." He swallowed and looked down into the pink liquid in his glass. "Maybe they weren't so rapid."
"You can mourn her and take as much time as you need to move on. No one is rushing you."
"Now, you mean." He met her eyes. "I never meant to hurt Carol, you know that, right? I thought I was ready to move on. I honestly did, but...then Carl told me about the baby, and I was right back where I was months ago. I should have handled it better."
"Yeah, it was stupid to get involved with her. You were married to Lori since you were legal. You needed to give it more time." She didn't like to talk about Carol when she wasn't around, especially not to her ex-boyfriend, but they needed to address this. "You keep rushing to try and move forward, but you don't decide that. It's...a process your head and your heart have to work out, and once you're there, you won't question it. You won't feel guilty. You'll simply be there, and Lori's there, too, and it's okay."
"You make it sound easy."
"Trust me, it's not." She smiled bittersweetly. "But I had to accept those terms when I split with Andre's father. We luckily weren't married, and I gained full custody, but...it's a hard headspace to get over. A constant in your life is completely gone, and you wonder how long they'd been inching out that door. A week? Two? A month? Longer? It's... crippling, especially if you aren't the one to make that move, and even when you are... you wonder if it's right. If this issue will pass, but in the end if you've considered leaving even once... you've already decided the issue doesn't really matter. The relationship has run its course, and it's time to call it."
He nodded. "Dale told me...it takes half the time of a relationship to recover from it."
"Eh, I don't think that's necessarily true, but maybe for some people it is." She shrugged a shoulder. "We recover at our own pace, and you'll get there."
"You're the only one who has faith in me." He smiled at her. "Even Carl is sick of me asking about her."
"Then stop asking." She drank more from her glass and set it down on the table. "You can't expect to move on when you're clinging to her every move."
"No, th—that isn't why I asked." He set his cup down by hers. "I just...wanted to know if she's happy, because that's all that I want for her now. I'm at a point where I've come to terms with all of it, and it's okay that we didn't work out. You've helped me get there, but I just... don't feel comfortable trying again. It's hard to see a point to it."
"I hear that. I haven't seriously dated since Terry and I split." She shifted and wrapped her arms around herself. "We had a lot of issues, mostly trust issues, and I don't know if I can go through that again. I hated the constant doubts."
"Exactly. I don't want to go through a relationship and worry I'm still doing what I did to make Lori leave. I'm not entirely sure what I even did or didn't do. She never told me."
"Then take a look at yourself, see if there's anything you don't like or want to change, but make sure it's for you. You can't do it for some unknown future relationship. Everything now is about you and your son, so...reinvent yourself." She and Carol had gone through that whole process a couple years after Terry, and Carol was a massive help. She went out now and then, but nothing serious. The most important relationship she had to work on was her and her son's. They'd been through a lot with Terry, and it just needed repairing. They needed repairing.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "So, I need to stop trying to repairing in a broken relationship and fix what might be wrong with me for myself. Is that all?"
"Maybe get a dog, too," she teased. "I have a couple that need a home."
"No, thanks." He chuckled. "I already have one hyper mess on my hands. I can't handle another. Maybe one day, though."
"Just let me know. My door's always open."
"Thank you." He reached out and grasped her hand. "I really couldn't have gotten through this without you. You're one of the best parts of my day." He laughed softly. "And your son is awesome. He's a great kid."
"Thank you. That means a lot to me, and hey, that's what friends are for." She tried to smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. Friends, huh? She hadn't even told her best friend, practically her sister, that she was having this relationship with Rick. She kept it in the dark and prayed Carol didn't make any impromptu visits to her home. She was being such an asshole about this entire situation, because she didn't want Carol to worry. They were just friends, and she was helping him get over the shambles of his life. She didn't mind to help, and even though Carol had been there for her, she hadn't live it. She couldn't fully experience what it does to the mind. It warps everything to have someone you love look at you and say it's all over, they don't love you anymore and just leave. Carol's experience was...a fight, too, but not like this one. Hers was worse.
"I know that look." He sighed for her now. "You haven't told Carol about this."
"No, that isn't what this look is. This look is me feeling like I'm being a hypocrite." She drew air into fill her lungs and let it linger before blowing it out. "She asked me about us, and I told her we're friends. She knows. I just... feel guilty."
"Why? We are just friends. I wouldn't sabotage that for anything."
"I think it's just because you two were involved, and I didn't say anything sooner." She waved it away with a short chuckle. "You were like a little secret, and I think I'm still holding guilt over that. It'll pass on its own."
"Well, if it doesn't, you can talk to me about it. I know guilt pretty well." He squeezed her hand before letting it go and standing. "Do you want some more wine?"
"That'd be great." She nodded. "Also could you bring back that cheese platter from lunch? I need a snack."
"Yeah, I'll just carry it in my teeth." He gestured to the two glass and couldn't help but grin. "A little cheddar with saliva? Yum."
"Oh, shut up." She laughed and climbed over the back of the couch to help him. "Fine, let me get the door for you."
"Oh, thanks. I never would have managed."
They spent the rest of the evening laughing and drinking and consuming cheese cubes. Michonne aired out her issues with her ex, feeling like she didn't have to keep it back with him there, and Rick listened to every word and made comments he hoped were helpful. He did the same with her, and her comments were definitely helpful. He was happy to be there with her, and it made him happier to know Carl was there with him and had an equally great time with Andre. He wanted to spent more time with them, getting to know Michonne even better and getting to know Andre, too. They had a lot in common, and so did their boys. He had a feeling they would be in each others' lives for a long time, and it brought him a lot of joy. Just that one thought. It could also be the wine. They had gone through two whole bottles and were opening a third, going back to their youth with laughter filling the air between them.