AN: Here we are, another chapter.
I actually meant for this one to be shorter, but then I got carried away with it. LOL
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think.
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"OK—you listenin' to me?" Daryl asked. "You got it?"
He was sitting on the ground so that he could be at Sophia's level. He'd walked her through the whole thing several times, but it was always difficult to know whether she fully understood everything that he was telling her or if she simply agreed with him because she imagined that was what he wanted to hear.
Around them, the prison was still asleep. As was her practice, Sophia was the first awake. She hadn't beaten Daryl up by much, though, because there had still been sleep in her eyes when he'd come looking for her and found her waiting for him, right where he knew she'd be, in her little pen and bed combo.
The fire was getting going good to put the water on for breakfast, and the cows had been milked. They could gather eggs and cook meat to make the meal complete, but Daryl wasn't handling everything. He'd gotten it started. Now he had other things to do that he didn't want to put off. When everyone was up and stirring around, they'd start to try to figure out what to do about Glenn and Maggie's situation. It was highly possible that Daryl would be leaving the prison again—maybe even for a few days while they searched—and there were things that he wanted done before he left.
Sophia stared at him like Carol did when she was bored with him.
"You got it, Soph?" Daryl pressed.
"Yes, Daddy," she responded. "I'm hungry," she whined a half-second later.
"You do what I asked you to do," Daryl said, "an' Daddy's gonna get'cha the best breakfast you ever had, Soph. Everythin' you want. Much as you want."
"Milk," Sophia offered.
Daryl laughed to himself.
"Do what I asked you to do an' you gonna have your choice of milk, OK?" Daryl responded.
Sophia sighed dramatically and pushed her hair out of her face with her hand.
"OK, Daddy," she said. "OK."
"Good," Daryl said. "Let's go, Soph."
He stood up and scooped up his daughter. He'd been calm until then, but suddenly his pulse kicked up. He even felt lightheaded for a split second and he stood still. He wanted to be sure that he wasn't about to pass out from standing up too quickly or getting too worked up. He didn't want to cause both himself and Sophia to topple to the ground. When he was sure he was steady, he kissed the side of Sophia's head, readjusted her weight on his hip, and headed back into the prison where everyone, more than likely, was still unaware that morning was starting to break.
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"We thought you'd still be in bed," Daryl said as he walked into the cell. He sounded disappointed about Carol's current condition.
Carol groaned at the bucket that she would take out later to dump and rinse. It was easier, if she was going to be sick every morning, to simply have a place where she could sit and suffer without having to go down to their bathrooms.
"Sorry to disappoint you," Carol said.
"You need somethin'?" Daryl asked.
"An exorcist, maybe," Carol said. She reached for the handkerchief that she'd brought to the floor with her to wipe her mouth, and Daryl put Sophia down before he went for the bowl of water they kept in their cell and a washrag. It had been an addition that they'd made for cleaning up other messes, but it had come in handy a great deal more lately than it ever had before. Daryl wet a rag and wrung out the water before he moved toward Carol.
Sophia, for her part, quickly came over to Carol and practically climbed her like a jungle gym to try to force her way into Carol's lap. Since she wasn't actively being sick at the moment, Carol readjusted her position so that she could sit on the floor and allow Sophia into her lap.
"Here, Mama," Sophia said, forcing something into Carol's face for Carol to play with. Carol moved to push it away, but then thought better of doing so. Sophia was a sensitive child, and she thought that one of the greatest rejections possible was to wave away an item she offered without first appreciating it.
Carol groaned a little at her desire to simply still be asleep—and not to be recovering from already being sick far longer than she wanted to be that morning—and reached for the toy.
"I believe this B-A-B-Y is trying to K-I-L-L me," Carol said.
Daryl handed her the washrag just as she took the item from Sophia and looked at it.
"Jesus!" Daryl growled, half-lunging for the black felt box that Carol was holding.
"Look, Mama! It's you. It's...it's...for you, Mama," Sophia said proudly.
Daryl made his best attempt to swipe the box out of Carol's hand and only missed by an inch because Carol moved her own hand.
"No!" Daryl barked. "No—this weren't how it was gonna go. It ain't how it was gonna go at all! Soph—ain't got no sense of timin'!"
Carol laughed, then, harder than she'd laughed in a very long time. She laughed harder than was appropriate for any situation where she still felt sick and was sitting on a hard floor next to a bucket into which she'd already been sick. She laughed harder and louder than she should have in a situation where she should have guarded some silence for the others in the prison.
Because Sophia started to cry at Daryl's clear displeasure with something that the two of them had, without a doubt, devised together, and Daryl looked like he was moments away from joining Sophia in her hysterics.
Carol simply used the rag that she'd used to wipe her mouth to cover it while she laughed. She didn't know what was in the box, but she could guess.
And when Daryl lowered himself down to sit on the floor and dragged Sophia to him to comfort her from her upset, he frowned at Carol like his whole world had come to an end.
Her chest ached at his sadness and her laughter subsided quickly. Sophia would get over her hurt feelings quickly and easily. Daryl might not bounce back so fast.
Carol wiped her mouth with the rag again and rested it on her leg. She moved herself on the floor so that she was farther away from her bucket and so that her back was against the side of the bed. She turned the box over in her hand.
"Am I allowed to open it, Daryl?" Carol asked.
"Whole thing's been ruined now," Daryl sulked. Carol swallowed a few times in rapid succession to keep the laughter down and her nausea at bay.
"I wouldn't say that," Carol said. She took his response as permission that she could open the box. She expected the diamond that she found inside, but she didn't expect it to be so beautiful. "Did you pick it out?" She asked.
"Who else would?" Daryl asked. His reply was short and sharp. If Carol didn't know him well enough to know why he was responding the way that he was, she might have taken it personally. She might have even feared that he was angry with her—and that was a sensation that could still send her stomach into knots, even though she knew that Daryl's anger was nothing like Ed's and never would be. "It oughta fit. Had a bit a' string. Measured your finger while you was sleepin'. If you even want it now."
Carol laughed to herself that time.
"Why wouldn't I want it?" Carol asked.
A few feet away, Sophia was crying quiet dragon tears—large drops of water that rolled down her cheeks—while she struggled to get her Daddy's attention by repeating his name over and over again.
"Whatta you want, Soph?" Daryl asked, ignoring Carol for a moment.
"I'm sorry, Daddy!" Sophia offered. "I'm sorry! I'm hungry!"
Carol was certain that the apology and the hunger were separate thoughts for Sophia. She was likely sorry for nothing except the fact that Daryl was clearly upset. She was hungry because it was time for her breakfast and Sophia believed that meals were important and should be treated as priorities. Even sadness was no reason to cancel a meal in Sophia's mind.
"Sophia—did you help Daddy with this?" Carol asked, holding up the box so that Sophia could see it. She recognized it and remembered it. Having someone's attention helped her to reign in her tears a little, and she swiped at her face and sucked back snot. She nodded her head.
"Yes, Mama," she said. "Yes! I help!"
"You did a good job helping your Daddy, baby," Carol offered.
Sophia looked pleased.
"I'm hungry," she responded, though, almost immediately dissolving into tears again.
In an attempt to save someone in the cell from their feelings, Carol simply lifted up the soft cotton shirt that she was wearing to reveal her breast. It was all the invitation that Sophia needed. She'd never stopped nursing, though she did it with a great deal less frequency now than she once had, of course, and she understood very well that milk was to be had if Carol offered her a breast. Sophia quickly made her way to Carol and Carol helped her get situated so that she could nurse.
With the baby coming, Carol would undoubtedly start to wean Sophia. She'd been holding off to keep her milk flowing, but that wouldn't be necessary any longer. The impending arrival would make sure that her milk didn't stop. It would be time to wean Sophia. The milk would still be there if there was an emergency.
But today wasn't the day, and this felt like its own kind of emergency, so Carol let Sophia nurse and she swallowed against the strangely melancholic feeling that rose up within her when she considered that one day—possibly very soon—it would be the very last time that she fed her daughter at her breast.
As soon as Sophia was calm, and one crisis felt handled, Carol looked back at Daryl. He was sitting, chewing on his thumb, and staring at her. He looked every bit as heartbroken as a body could look. Carol knew, too, that the nervous habit of chewing at his cuticle was another sign that he was struggling with some of his emotions.
She offered him a soft smile.
"Are you going to ask me, Daryl?" She asked.
He moved his thumb, but that only made his frown deepen.
"This wasn't the way this was supposed to happen," Daryl said. "It weren't the way none of it was supposed to happen."
"Why don't you tell me—how it was supposed to happen?" Carol pressed.
He swallowed a few times and looked around the cell.
"You was gonna still be in bed," he said. "I was gonna put her down there. She was gonna give you the ring an' tell you that it was from me to you. Then I was gonna ask you if you'd marry me."
Carol smiled at him.
"It's a beautiful proposal," Carol said.
"Woulda been," Daryl said.
"Is," Carol corrected. "Who are you mad it, Daryl? Her because she did what you asked her to do? The baby for—existing and making me sick? Or me for being sick because—because my body is adjusting to everything that's going on with a new baby growing inside me?"
"I wanted it to be perfect for you," Daryl said. "You deserve that."
"You make everything perfect for me," Carol said. She gently rubbed Sophia's back as Sophia nursed—entirely soothed by the experience and practically on another planet where nothing else mattered to her. "Look at my life, Daryl."
"Yeah," Daryl said. "You livin' in a prison in the middle of...all of this."
Carol laughed to herself.
"I'm living in a prison that's been a better home to me than the one I had before all of this," Carol said. "I feel safer now than I did before—even with the Walkers. I'm blessed because...I have you. And you came back last night, and even though the first thing I thought when I opened my eyes was that I felt sick, the second think I thought this morning was that I was so happy that God—and I know it was Him—God let you come back to me last night. I have Sophia and—and look at her. She's happy and healthy and...she's so blessed. And I'm..." She stopped and shook her head. She swallowed against the growing lump in her throat and she felt a tear roll down her cheek. One may have dropped onto Sophia, too, because Sophia petted her as though to remind her that she preferred her meal without a side of sadness if at all possible. Carol swallowed until she felt like she had her emotions under control. "I can barely say it still. It feels so unreal. I'm pregnant and that makes me...so happy. And I know that Sophia has the best Daddy in the whole world and...this baby...this baby is going to be so lucky, Daryl. And I'm lucky enough to live in the middle of all this."
Carol laughed to herself again and held up the ring box.
"And now," she said, but she didn't finish. Instead, she mopped at her face and thanked Daryl when he offered her one of his shirts—apparently the closest thing he could reach at the moment that she hadn't been using already.
"Thanks," she said softly.
"You the best damned thing that ever happened to me," Daryl said. "I didn't feel right askin' you when I knowed that we was supposed to be worried about—you know. About Glenn and Maggie. But I also was thinkin' about them an' how—you can't waste it. You can't waste time or opportunity or nothin'. I didn't wanna go lookin' for 'em without—without thinkin' about how...how I got you an' everything here an' you said you was gonna marry me. I just wanted to go out there thinkin' about how you said you was gonna marry me because...I guess I think it'd be the best thing that could happen to me. I'm gettin' everything I could want outta life. But I guess I still want more. Want you to marry me."
"Then ask me," Carol said softly.
"Whole proposal got ruined," Daryl said.
"Maybe the way you thought it would happen didn't work out," Carol said. "But the proposal hasn't happened yet. You still—you haven't asked me, Daryl."
He swallowed. Something in his expression changed entirely.
"Will you? Marry me...I mean?" He stammered out.
Carol smiled at him.
"Nothing could make me happier," she said.
His shoulders slumped as the tension left them and slowly his earlier frown was replaced with a smile.
"Really?" He asked.
"Absolutely," Carol said. "In fact—I could ask you the same thing. I mean—I just woke up. I've got vomit breath. I've got—one nipple in a toddler's mouth and...are you sure, Daryl? That you want me?"
He laughed.
"Ain't nothin' I want more," he said.
Carol held the box out and he came for it. Sophia decided she'd had enough milk and was more interested in what was going on than she was in nursing. The edge, at the very least, had been knocked off her hunger. She sat up and watched as Daryl crawled forward across the floor.
"You don't want it?" Daryl asked, concerned because she was returning the box to him.
"I want you to put it on me," Carol said, offering her hand to Daryl. He slid the ring on her finger and she admired it. "Perfect. Just like you."
"Like you," Daryl responded.
"I wanna see!" Sophia declared.
Carol showed her the ring.
"Isn't it beautiful, Sophia?" Carol asked.
"Oh yes!" Sophia agreed dramatically.
"It means Daddy asked Mama to love him forever," Daryl said. "An' to be with him forever. You think that's OK, Soph?"
Sophia looked at both of them like she thought it was an absurd question. She didn't even answer Daryl. Her expression said everything that he needed to know—she already assumed that this was common knowledge and, possibly, she felt a little sorry for Daryl that he was just now learning what she already knew.
Her expression made Daryl laugh.
"I need to get her settled," he said. He leaned toward Carol for a kiss and she turned her cheek toward him. He sat back, almost looking offended.
"Just let me brush my teeth," Carol offered. "And then—I'll be outside to help with the food."
Daryl understood, then, and he pecked her cheek.
"I love you, Pookie," Carol offered. Daryl laughed to himself. He stood up and reached down to gather Sophia up.
"I love you too, Smooshy," Daryl offered with a snort. Immediately upon hearing the ridiculous name, Sophia latched onto it with a laugh and repeated it several times. Daryl laughed at her antics and readjusted her. "We'll go get a start on breakfast," he said. "Milk ain't gonna hold Sophia but so long. You hungry, Soph?"
"Yes, Daddy," Sophia offered, dropping off her repetition of the name in favor of something much more important. "Yes. Yes. I'm hungry!"
Daryl and Carol both laughed. Carol refused Daryl's hand when he offered it to her.
"I'm just going to—take a few more minutes," Carol said.
"Take your time," Daryl said with some understanding. "We'll be here when you're ready for us."
Carol leaned her head back against the bed behind her. She laughed to herself as she listened to Sophia babbling to Daryl while they walked through the prison. She responded, enthusiastically, to a question he'd asked her about food.
Carol glanced at the ring on her finger. The weight of it felt strange and it felt foreign. It was a nice feeling, though, even if it was a little odd.
Like most of her feelings when it came to Daryl, this was the unusual and almost inexplicable sensation of extreme happiness in the heart of a time when such a feeling seemed entirely out of place. Despite its oddity, though, Carol was more than thankful for the feeling.
She'd never imagined that she'd know what absolute happiness was, but she was confident that she was feeling exactly that, and Daryl had brought it to her.
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AN: Everyone seemed interested in the back story, but I had about an even amount of people that weighed in with flashback, separate story, and either/undecided/undeclared.
If I do "flashback," then probably what I'd do is just put "Flashback" at the top of those chapters (whenever I decided to write them) and put them in throughout this story. They wouldn't be necessarily in order. If I do separate story, then it would be a collection of chapters that go in order to tell (at the very least) pieces of their back story.
With that clarification, I'll ask once more what you're interested in so I can somewhat tally the votes and figure out which way you'd prefer me to do this. I'd like for it to be done the way that you'd most enjoy reading. Thanks!
And, please, let me know what you think of the chapter!