AN: This one is just a short little one shot for an anon on Tumblr who wanted Daryl to say "I think I'm in love with you and I'm terrified."
I own nothing from the Walking Dead. I only own my original story lines and characters.
Special thanks to cool-avaspuppies for the time period of the fic (post Terminus hug) and to freefromthecocoon for the suggestion of a little added flair.
I hope you enjoy! Please don't forget to let me know what you think!
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"Here," Daryl said, waving at Carol as she came into the space and looked around for where she might call her bed for the night.
The barn was big enough for all of them to fit and have as much space and privacy as anything on the road would ever really allow. The house on the same property had burned, but there was a very distinct point of destruction that marked where the fire finished consuming all that it cared to consume and, apparently, burned itself out. The barn had been spared, it seemed, by a creek that was little more than a ditch with a heavy trickle of water running through it.
The little creek provided water for baths and for drinking. The barn had been well-stocked, and everyone made beds out of musty hay, feed bags, and livestock blankets. Daryl had gotten in there and elbowed people away from some of the best of it—not for himself, but for her. He'd gotten his bath early as a privilege for having provided the group with food.
"Made you a bed," Daryl said, standing up and pointing to the pallet next to the one he'd made for himself. He'd chosen a spot for them that was somewhat in a corner and around the turn from a pile of things that remained forever in storage—or at least until someone cleaned the place out. There were very few people who had chosen spots near them—Abraham and his crew were among their closest neighbors.
She smiled at him. It was that sweet smile that she had, where her eyes caught his and held them—like she was trying to see something inside him. He almost instinctively closed his eyes and turned quickly to sit back down on his pallet next to hers. When she didn't immediately sit, he patted her spot. Her smile grew a little, then, and she sat.
From beside him, Daryl picked up the two clean rags that served as "plates" to hold their portions of the meat that had been roasting since Daryl killed and cleaned it earlier. He passed Carol the rag with the largest portion of meat.
"Eat," he said. "All of it."
"Take some of this," Carol said, nudging him back with her arm. He hummed in the negative and nudged her arm back. "I'm serious, Daryl. Take some of this. I've got too much here. I've got more than you."
"Stop it!" Daryl barked at her when she nudged him again. He realized he'd been much louder than he intended, and he looked around to see whose attention he'd gotten for the both of them. Nobody was looking at them, but Daryl was almost positive that was simply because people didn't want him to say anything to them. "Stop it," he said, lowering his voice. "Eat it. You need it."
Carol laughed quietly.
"What do I need it for?" She asked.
"Everything you done," Daryl said. "Everything you're always doin'. To make up for what you ain't had out there."
Carol smiled at him.
"You've always keep me fed," Carol said. "Even when—there's nothing to eat. You find something."
"But I ain't been with you," Daryl said. "And—you're…you know…gettin' too skinny."
"I'm eating," Carol assured him. To illustrate her point, she put a large piece of meat into her mouth and smiled at him as she chewed. "See? I've got—all this meat in my mouth." She always held his eye when she said things like that. There was always a twinkle of mischief in her eyes when she teased him.
Daryl looked away from her. He had the smaller portion of food, but he hardly felt that he'd be able to stomach it, no matter how hard he might try. He felt like he could still feel Carol looking at him.
She nudged him again, and this time she remained somewhat leaning against him.
"Pookie? What's wrong?" She asked, clearly trying to strike a balance between the playful teasing that he was accustomed to and the seriousness of someone who genuinely wanted an answer.
"Stop, OK?" Daryl said, looking at her.
She was sincere, then. All teasing was gone.
"Are you mad at me?" Carol asked.
"How could I be mad at you?" Daryl asked. "You saved our asses. Everybody in here owes you." He shook his head. "I ain't mad."
Carol put her rag down on the pallet near her.
"Eat your food," Daryl pressed.
"Not until you tell me what's wrong," Carol said. "Tell me why you're mad."
"I just told you I ain't mad!" Daryl said. Of course, as soon as he heard his own tone of voice, he understood why it was that, perhaps, Carol was having a hard time believing him. He checked his tone. "I'm sorry," he said. "I ain't mad."
"But something's wrong," Carol said, her voice low and soft. "So—why don't you tell me what's wrong? And then—I'll…eat whatever you want me to."
Daryl's chest ached. It had ached since the moment he'd thought she was gone for good. His throat ached. His heart ached.
The only thing that had distracted him from any of that was the onslaught of "other things" that had to be dealt with in the meantime. As long as something had to be dealt with in the moment, he was fine, but as soon as he had even a second of downtime, he'd found himself wrapped back up in the hurt of losing her.
"If I tell you," Daryl said. "You gotta promise…"
"Promise what?" Carol asked.
Daryl's throat tightened.
What he wanted to say was that she had to promise him that she would love him. She had to promise him that she wouldn't reject him. She had to promise that she would feel the same way that he felt. He couldn't say that, though, so he simply foolishly shrugged his shoulders.
She looked sympathetic, and soft, and tender—and it was almost too much for him. But she nodded, and she gently rested her hand on his shoulder.
"I promise," she said. "Whatever it is, and whatever you need? I promise. Just tell me."
"I think I'm in love with you and I'm terrified," Daryl said. The words rolled out of him like the confession of a sin hanging heavy on his heart just moments before execution. He couldn't hold it back any longer, and trying to hold it back was eating him alive. Just having it on the outside made him feel like he could breathe a little better and his lungs could fully expand.
"Oh," Carol said softly.
"Oh?" Daryl barked, immediately reminding himself to lower his voice again to keep their private conversation private. "That's all the hell you gotta say?"
"What do you want me to say?" Carol asked.
"I thought I lost you," Daryl said. "Thought—I'd never see you again. I ain't never felt this way before. Not about nobody. I tell you that and…all the hell you got to say is 'oh'?"
Carol smiled softly. Her lips seemed to tremble like she was holding it back or, perhaps, she was holding something else back. She slipped her hand around and her cool fingers, instead of squeezing his shoulder, gently massaged his neck. Daryl closed his eyes a half a second to savor the touch.
"It's just that—I've loved you for so long," Carol said. "I guess—I don't know what to say anymore. Why are you afraid?"
The confession from Carol made Daryl's stomach feel almost like he'd dropped from a tall height too quickly.
"You…love me?" He asked.
She laughed quietly.
"Yes…you asshole," she said. Daryl laughed in spite of himself. "I never thought you'd catch up, though."
"I never thought—I had a chance," Daryl offered. "With you, I mean. I was terrified because—I might not now. And I know what it's like to lose you."
"I know what it's like to lose you, too," Carol said. "Does this mean—if I kiss you, you won't run away and find another corner all to yourself?"
"I made you this bed, didn't I? Nicest bed in this place," Daryl said. He swallowed against the nervous feeling in his stomach as Carol leaned toward him and delicately brought their lips together. The kiss was so good that his chest ached in a different way than it had been aching since he'd first thought he'd lost her. This time, the ache felt like a good ache. It was an ache of longing, but of longing that stood some chance of being relieved. He leaned toward Carol, seeking more of the taste of her lips.
"I never wanna lose you again," Daryl breathed out when the kiss broke.
"No," Carol said with a soft smile, scratching her fingertips at his temple. "Let's—make sure we stay together."
"Forever," Daryl pressed.
"I think that would be best," Carol agreed.
"You gotta eat your food," Daryl said, straightening up. He didn't know how well she'd done for food out there on the road, but he knew she had a tendency to give her food away to anyone if he wasn't watching her. "Worries me when you're skinny."
Carol gave him a somewhat sympathetic smile and put some of the roasted meat in her mouth.
"You know—if you're not full after you finish yours," Carol said, that sing-songy teasing coming back into her voice. "I know something else you could eat. After all—you did promise me once that…you'd go down first."
Daryl felt his face grow warm at the memory and the suggestion. Even more than that, though, he felt his face grow warm at the realization that, this time, it wasn't entirely teasing. She'd said she loved him, and he'd admitted that he loved her. It wasn't beyond the realm of possibility that she might want more with him—she might allow him more.
Daryl looked around to see who might be listening to them. Unbeknownst to them, in the time that they'd been talking, their little corner had been abandoned and they'd been left alone. Abraham and his crew had quietly moved their pallets elsewhere to sleep.
Daryl stole another kiss from Carol.
"Don't know how long we'll have privacy," Daryl warned. Jumping a little as he heard the sounds of some people, whose steps he didn't bother to identify, moving toward the little entrance area to their corner that the pile of stored stuff created.
"Sorry. Can't go that way. Honeymoon suite in that direction. Go rub one out for some sweet dreams some damn where else," Abraham announced to whoever it was that had shuffled in that direction.
Carol laughed quietly in her throat.
"Something tells me, we won't be disturbed," she offered.
