AN: Here we are, another chapter here. Hopefully there's more to come soon.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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"I trust Andrea," Daryl said. "I do. But Merle?"
Carol couldn't help but laugh at him. She met him, just as the curtain dropped behind him again, and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"And for that, we have Andrea and Merle," Carol said. "All they have to do is get Sophia a bath, read her a story, and get her to bed. They can give her some cow's milk if she fusses for it. They are two capable adults. I think they'll be able to handle this one night."
Daryl was easily distracted, and he'd been down there at least three times to try to peek around and see if his brother and Andrea were successfully handling their first, and possibly only, evening babysitting.
Through dinner, it had been a normal day like any other. They'd done their work around the prison. But as soon as dinner was done, Carol had declared the dishes were someone else's problem and she'd kicked off their honeymoon by warming water for both of them to wash off before a very early bedtime. They'd taken turns playing with Sophia while each other had bathed, and they'd slipped away while the little girl was fully occupied with picking out the flower and vine bits that were still tangled in Andrea's hair.
Thankfully, even though Daryl was easily distracted sometimes, he was also easy to bring back to the moment. He smiled at Carol and kissed her. His kiss was sweet, at first, and she prepared for a simple, gentle kiss that would end as suddenly as it began. At just the moment when he thought to end it, though, it seemed that Daryl thought better of it and he deepened the kiss. Carol moaned into his mouth to show her approval of his choices and the pleasure she got from so deeply feeling his desire.
"So, you haven't changed your mind yet?" Carol teased when the kiss broke. Daryl walked her backward toward the bed and she stopped when her legs bumped against it.
"I said always," Daryl offered. "Meant it. Meant it before we took the vows."
Carol smiled at him.
"I think I meant it the first time I saw you," Carol said.
"It's a nice idea. But the first time you saw me, I don't think you saw me," Daryl said. "Think you saw two crazy ass rednecks that didn't have a half an ounce of sense between them. I think you was busy seein' what else you had goin' on in your life with Sophia barely big as a minute."
Carol smiled remembering those moments. Now that Daryl was in her life, and now that she felt his warmth wrapped around her all the time, even the bad memories weren't a truly scary place to visit. Now she could look back at truly horrible moments in her life and, at the very least, she could see them through the lens of something that was helping to move her on her way toward what she had now.
She was grateful to Daryl for that, too. She didn't want to look back, for instance, on the earliest hours and days of her daughter's life only to see the bad. She wanted to look back on those days from the protected position of knowing what a smart, funny, special little girl her daughter had grown into.
Love always protects. Maybe it even protected in hindsight.
"She was so perfect," Carol said.
"She was," Daryl said.
"You don't remember," Carol said. "All anyone remembers about her was that she was—a squalling baby."
"I don't, neither," Daryl insisted. "Get in that bed, woman."
Carol laughed at him and got in the bed. She moved over, toward the wall, to make room for him to join her. Before he got in bed, he pulled his shirt over his head and slid his pants down to let all his clothes puddle on the floor. He typically did the same thing every night. No matter whether or not they intended to make love—and tonight they surely did—Daryl was always prepared. When Carol gave him a hard time about immediately shucking his clothes before he went to bed, he always teased her that, in the case of a true emergency, he was fully prepared to save them all with his dick hanging out.
He slid into bed and kissed her again before his hands trailed down her arms, squeezing at intervals as he went.
"I remember she didn't cry as much as everybody said she did," Daryl said. "And I remember you'd pop a tit in her mouth just about as soon as she opened it. You know, I never wanted to hold any kid as bad as I wanted to hold that baby."
"I know you said I didn't see you, but I saw you. I knew even then that you weren't a crazy ass redneck with no sense. And even then, I wished I knew you better."
"Know me pretty good now," Daryl offered.
"And you certainly got to hold the baby," Carol teased.
"Mighta—gone an' made another," Daryl said.
Carol nodded.
"I think you did," she said.
"You know—holdin' their mama ain't too bad, either," Daryl offered.
Carol kissed him. She savored the feeling of his fingertips as he explored her body. Some nights, like tonight, when he wasn't feeling rushed and he was feeling simply like spending all the time they had to spend together without another care in the world, he ran his fingers over her body like he was reading her in braille. His simplest touches could make her feel appreciated in ways she couldn't express.
"Forever," Carol said. "Forever and…always. It was a beautiful wedding, Daryl. You made it perfect."
"I didn't do anything," Daryl said. "It was Hershel that found the vows, though I did like them a lot better than the others."
"They were perfect," Carol assured him. "And it was your inspiration that made him choose them. And the roses?"
Daryl smiled.
"Yeah," he said. "I was thinkin' about those. You know—when I first found the roses while I was lookin' for the antibiotics for Soph and we were thinkin' she was gonna die, I thought they were for you. Like the legend. Hope for a mama in the face of…of losin' her kid or, you know, possibly losin' her kid. I thought they were—hope for me that I was gonna find what I was lookin' for and save her."
"And they were," Carol assured him.
"But today? I was realizing they're a lot more than that," Daryl said. "And I don't know—at least today I was thinking it—but I don't know if they're not more for me than they were for you."
"Do you want to explain?" Carol asked.
He accepted another kiss from her and he rearranged his body so that she could come closer to him. He drew trails over her skin and, every now and again, she shivered. She hadn't taken off the t-shirt that she'd put on for show before bed, and Daryl kept trailing his finger against her skin where the bottom of the shirt rested.
"Today—with you and Sophia," Daryl said. "I was thinkin' maybe it was that the flowers was always there to give me hope…not that I wouldn't lose somethin' I had, but maybe that I'd find somethin' I didn't quite have just yet. Like those antibiotics, but it was you and Sophia I was gonna find. This whole life. I was gonna find it."
"I'm glad you found it," Carol said with a sigh, nuzzling against him. "Because it means I found it, too. And Sophia found it."
"And hell—Andrea and Merle today. Both of 'em wearin' the roses. We lost 'em both. Mourned 'em for dead."
"But we found them," Carol said, smiling to herself over the connection. "In a new life."
"A whole new life," Daryl said. He moved his hand around, slipping it under the shirt that Carol already knew would shortly be removed from her body. He trailed his fingertips up and rubbed them against her stomach so that her muscles bunched with the tickling sensation. The gentle touch of his hand there and the way he was looking at her—his eyes on her, so intently, like he could hardly believe that she was real—sent a shock through her in just the way that he knew how to do to get her attention any time he wanted it. "Got us a new life right here, too."
"This one you didn't find," Carol said. "This one you built. You know—we really cheated. Tonight was supposed to be our first time. I wasn't supposed to bring a baby to the honeymoon."
Daryl laughed to himself.
"We ain't been nothin' if it ain't unconventional," Daryl said. "What you say we try a little honeymoon tradition, though?"
Carol smiled and kissed him again. She quickly pulled the shirt over her head and tossed it to join the rest of his clothes in the puddle on the floor.
"I thought we'd never get around to it," she said.
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"You in trouble now anyway," Merle said.
Together, he and Daryl were working to clear bricks and debris from the yard of the prison. Part of the prison had been destroyed—probably back around the time of the outbreak—and they had slowly picked away the Walkers back there to clean the area and secure it with new fences. They intended to clear it and use it as part of their expansion, but that clearing was going to take time and patience—especially since it involved demolition and sorting resources to make sure they didn't waste anything they could reuse in future building projects.
Demolition was a good job for Merle. It wore his ass out, especially to do the job one-handed, and that kept him more centered and in control of himself than anything else. Ever since he had been a kid, Merle had seemed to get into more trouble when nothing kept him tired.
They weren't alone. Nearly everyone was working on clearing things, pushing and dumping wheelbarrows, sorting supplies, or even just doing simple tasks like pulling nails out of boards and straightening the nails that might be used again. They had big plans to expand, but it was going to take all hands to make sure that everything they wanted actually happened.
Daryl and Merle were somewhat off to themselves, though, because Merle was in a particularly grumpy mood and most people didn't seem to want to deal with it. Daryl could ignore him, like the buzzing of a gnat in his ear, for the most part.
And the work would tire Merle out and mellow him out in a good way.
Not too far from them, Daryl could see Carol sorting bricks and things with Andrea while Sophia diligently arranged a small collection of rocks that Carol had likely given her to keep her busy and away from the things that would be more dangerous for her.
"Yeah, yeah," Daryl said, throwing bricks into the wheelbarrow next to him. "I'm waist deep in shit. And lovin' every damn minute of it."
"All they gotta do is get you to marry 'em," Merle said. "That's all the hell a woman wants. All she's after. Get you to marry her. Then it all goes to shit. You'll see—you say them vows and any good thing you had, gone."
"I don't care what anybody says about you, brother," Daryl said. "There's somethin' of a preacher in you."
Merle laughed.
"You know as good as I do it all goes to shit," Merle said.
"I know I been told that," Daryl said.
"An' you ain't seen it with your eyes? Seen it a million times with any of our friends," Merle said.
"You mean the assholes we hung out with to get drunk, Merle? The ones that was slidin' you dope on the side? I'm startin' to think maybe it weren't the marriage that made things go to shit, ya know?"
"Happened every time. Some woman would dangle a kid or some shit in front of some sorry asshole," Merle said. "Claim it was his an' he ain't had no idea. Either that or she'd get the poor fucker pussy-drunk an' get him to marry her. Next damn thing you know, he ain't gettin' no ass, most his damn paycheck's goin' to diapers, an' she don't do shit but bitch 'cause it ain't enough. It ain't never enough."
"An' then he gets drunk as shit an' beats the hell outta her," Daryl said. "Right? Says it was her own fuckin' fault 'cause she drove him so crazy that he wasn't man enough to take his balls an' walk away—cool his ass down."
"Even if he stands there and takes it, it don't mean that she ain't doggin' his ass every damn day," Merle said. "You tellin' me that you ain't seen it?"
Daryl laughed to himself. Once upon a time, Merle had the ability to crawl up his spine like he was playing knick knack paddywhack on every single one of his vertebrae. Either he'd lost that ability, though, or Daryl was still buzzing so good from his new wife's sweet wake-up call that he could do little more than feel sorry for his brother.
"Seen it in more ways than one," Daryl said. "Carol has too. Hell—maybe one reason we're both so hellbent and determined not to let it go that way."
"You think them that seen it go that way meant for it too?" Merle asked.
"No," Daryl admitted. "But—we gonna fight it actively. Besides—I don't get a paycheck, but if I did? I'd spend it on diapers if that's what my kid needed. You wait 'til you have a kid, Merle, you gonna see. Hell—I'd give Sophia my fuckin' heart if she needed it. I'd only be sorry that I wouldn't be there to see her use it."
"I ain't havin' no damn kids," Merle said.
"Andrea know you feel that way?" Daryl asked.
"She might as well," Merle said. "Because I ain't fuckin' doin' it, brother."
Daryl laughed to himself. When he was younger, he might have gone right along with Merle. He didn't know any better, after all, and Merle was all he really had to teach him about the ways of the world. His mama died too early—before she could really teach him more than the fact that he didn't want to be like his old man—and his old man had taught him nothing that he wanted to hold onto beyond the fact that he hoped to never be a single thing like him.
Merle had taught Daryl nearly everything he knew—the good, the bad, and the ugly. But at least he'd tried to teach Daryl something about life. For that, Daryl had to be thankful. Merle couldn't exactly help it, after all, if there'd been nobody to ever guide him in any decent direction.
And it was only Carol that had taught Daryl that what Merle taught him about relationships came from a place of fear. Fear, after all, sounded a lot like anger.
"I'm married and my wife ain't bitchin' at me," Daryl said. "She'll tell me when to straighten my ass up sometimes, but it ain't bitching. And—trust me, brother, I'm still gettin' ass. Damn near more than I know what to do with. My damn dick's almost tired. I just about can't handle it all."
"You ain't been married twenty-four hours," Merle pointed out. "You can pretend your lil' woman's got you thinkin' that I'm blowin' smoke out my ass, but you know the kinda women I'm talkin' about."
"I think you hit the nail on the head there, brother. I do know the kinda women you talkin' about. Hell—see Lori damn near chewin' Rick's head off every time he gets near her. Got Hershel talkin' about figurin' out how we set up divorce around here for when such a thing is just damn necessary. And I know men like you been talkin' about, too. Maybe what I'm saying is that…maybe it ain't about the marriage. Maybe it's about not bein' that kinda man or that kinda woman."
Merle stopped working for a moment. He stood there, and wiped his hand on his shirt. He regarded Daryl and, perhaps, just a little of what Daryl said sunk in. He was sure, though, that Merle would need to stew on it for a while before he decided if he did or didn't agree.
"You know, brother," Merle mused, "there might be somethin' of a damn preacher in you, too."
Daryl laughed to himself at Merle using his own words against him.
"Just make sure you drop your money in the offerin' plate on your way out," Daryl said. "Get your ass back to work. Them Woodbury people'll be here like tomorrow an' we gonna be put off this job."