Disclaimer: Randomcat23 does not own TWD.

The Water Pump

It was easier after that.

He still took dinner by himself, but he didn't have to fight for the softness in his voice when he spoke to her in front of others. Carol, for her part, seemed to have forgiven him for his angry transgressions. If her easy grins and flirty looks weren't enough proof, Sophia described the entire plot of My Little Pony to him one day while he helped her shell nuts. If the kid thought he should know about her favorite TV show, and wasn't scolding him for the way he treated her mom, he figured he must be doing okay.

Changes happened at the roundhouse too. Within days after Daryl's hose run, the fence had been completely covered in metal and was now a scaly snake protecting the building. The focus turned to the water pump.

It was the first meeting Kenny held since the Marcus incident. He and Rodney climbed back up on their stage and laid out the plan. First, dig a ditch from the stream to the roundhouse for the hose to lay in. Next, construct the water pump in the stream. Third, bury the hose to keep it safe.

"This is obviously all outside the fence, for the most part anyway. So we're going to need to keep an eye out for the dead. Neal can't shoot 'em all from the guard tower." He swept the crowd and liking what he saw, Kenny straightened. "Alright then. Daryl, can I count on you to help Rodney keep the dead away?"

"You got it."

The slight suspicion on a select few people's faces when Kenny asked a favor of him directly made the back of his neck itch. Daryl scratched at the invisible irritation while he read the rest of the crowd. To his surprise, most people looked relieved; whether it was for the water access or not getting asked to kill the dead, he didn't know. Probably a mix of both.

Jules and his family stood attentive, though he looked to Jonathan after everything Kenny said. A few times, Jonathan opened his mouth as if he was going to say something and then closed it again. If Daryl was reading his pinched expression correctly, Jonathan wanted to be part of the action and the planning.

Daryl snorted and thought, "I wonder if Jonathan's ever been excluded from anythin' in his whole damn life."

Carefully, Kenny asked, "Would anyone volunteer to help stab the dead through the fence?"

To Daryl's surprise, Carol raised her hand with a shrug along with Sam and a handful of others.

He leaned in to whisper, "You sure?"

"Yes. Time to use what I've learned!" In an even softer whisper, she added, "And it'll feel good to do something other than washing Kenny's underwear."

Daryl nudged her shoulder while he held down a snort.

Kenny counted the raised hands. "Alright, Sam. Here is your fence crew. The rest of you will be digging the ditch, cooking, and whatnot. We want to get this done as quickly as possible, so everyone will be supporting the effort in some way. I don't want to spend more time outside the fence than we need to-"

"Great plan, Kenny!" Jonathan cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled. "Isn't it a good plan, everyone?"

Jules let out a cheer and a few people in the crowd murmured agreement.

Kenny cleared his throat. "Ah, thank you. Let's get to work!"

Daryl had learned a long time ago that you always bring a back up weapon to a fight. So he grabbed the rifle, made sure it was loaded and that he had the extra ammo, but he also sharpened his knife to perfection.

Carol and the others were spread out along the fence, stabbing devices ready. She was the only one with a traditional weapon. Most of the others gripped spears or staffs to give them reach. Daryl exchanged a small smirk and a nod with Carol as he joined the crowd at the gate. The digging crew milled around, palming their shovels. Jonathan and Jules eyed him as Daryl took lead with Rodney.

"There weren't many dead along the fence this morning," Rodney said by way of greeting. "Hopefully it'll be a slow day for us."

"Let's hope so," Daryl agreed as he surveyed the crew.

For most of them, it was the first time they had left the fence since getting off the train. White knuckles and tight expressions were common. It was a long walk along the fence to the back of the building. Hopefully none of them would lose their nerve along the way.

Kenny pushed his way to the front and unlocked the gate after signaling to Neal. As they made their way around the fence, Kenny gave further instructions. "Now, Neal's going ta pick off the dead from far away, but he won't be shooting anywhere near us. I'll be spotting the whole time. If we have to run, we run."

If it was meant to be reassuring, it had the complete opposite effect. Daryl shrugged it off, preferring the fearful silence from Jules and even Jonathan to their typical endless chatter. Kenny drew a line in the dirt as a guide and set them to task. Daryl and Rodney placed themselves between the crew and the edge of the field. The silence made it easy to hear any approaching dead. But after an hour or two of digging and no walking corpse in sight, they started talking again. Daryl walked a little further away, focusing on the field and every unexpected twitch through the grasses.

"Can't wait for the showers," Jules said wistfully.

"Yeah," Jonathan returned brightly and kicked his spade into the earth. Dirt flew. "Kenny, let me know if you need help keeping watch!"

"Sure. For right now, we're good as is."

While the diggers got more comfortable, Daryl's attention stay razor sharp. Soon enough, the dead did come.

Slow, like a creeping ivy. One and then two. It was easy enough to kick a corpse to the ground and stab it. Daryl and Rodney didn't let them get close, enclosing the gap at about thirty yards. They settled into a good system, alternating who took point. But then, Rodney yelled.

A corpse came crawling through the grasses, grasping for Rodney's ankle. Panicked, Rodney raised his pistol and shot. It echoed like thunder.

"You alright?" Daryl asked him, the echoes rattling his nerves. Because of the fence, he had no idea where Carol was, but he found himself trying to find her anyway. He huffed at himself and helped Rodney step away from the lifeless body.

"I'm fine, but..."

A breeze whipped through the field and whistled a warning. Two slumped heads appeared in the distance.

Rodney cursed. "We might have a problem on our hands."

Two more heads joined the first pair, and then four. Gaping mouths with rotten teeth. Dirty clothes sagging across bones.

Daryl swallowed and waded out into the field. He swung at the nearest walking corpse and then rushed to a second.

Behind him, the crew dug faster now. Their shovels rang as they collided with one another. Heated curses were flung back and forth. When Daryl switched out with Rodney, dust clung to his slick skin. The ditch not nearly as straight or smooth edged as before.

"Alright men, straighten it out!" Kenny demanded after a particularly hard curve.

"Hard to when they let the dead get so close!"

Daryl wiped the splattered gore from his face. "Yer fine."

"I can hear them!" Jules exclaimed.

"That's bullshit." Daryl cleaned his weapon and then watched Rodney strike down two corpses in the field.

Ignoring Kenny, Jonathan tamped his shovel into the ground and held out a hand. "Let me help."

Daryl kept his attention on the shifting situation in the field. Rodney had it under control, but another dead one crept closer. "You ever stab one before, Jonathan?"

Jonathan staggered. "No, but-"

"Don't need yer help." Daryl nodded at Rodney retreating for a break. "Just dig."

Jonathan recoiled as if he had been slapped. "I'm just trying to help, Daryl."

"Yeah. Then dig." Daryl spat to the side and then jogged up to the nearest corpse and struck it down.

It took them all day, but the ditch did get dug. The dead eventually petered out, but not before Daryl's arm threatened to fall off from overuse. Tired, hungry, and maybe a little angry, the digging crew slumped back inside the gate with Daryl, Rodney, and Kenny prodding them along from the back. Daryl cast one last glance at the empty field and wondered just how many corpses would bother them tomorrow.

That evening, after touching base with Kenny about the plan tomorrow and confirming Carol was just fine, Daryl trudged upstairs with sore shoulders and arms. He left the busy dining all behind him, opting for no dinner rather than spending one more moment in the crowd.

For the first time he could remember, he wished he was ambidextrous. As he struggled to ease the knots in his back, he concluded he should work on that. He hissed as his fingers found the most tender spot, completely missing Carol's entrance.

Carol stopped him with a small hand on his wrist.

"Here, let me."

He was ashamed of the moan he emitted under her nimble fingers, but she didn't seem to think anything of it. Carol hummed a little as she rubbed the tension from his neck and down across his shoulders. She focused on the knot over his right shoulder blade. His neck fell forward in relief.

"Good work today," she said as she added her second thumb.

"You too. Didn't have any dead come from that way."

"We were banging on the metal to get their attention. That seemed to work." After a moment, Carol paused her administrations. Palms curled over his shoulders she said, "I could do a better job if you took off your shirt."

Daryl stiffened.

"It's okay if you're not comfortable though." She resumed the massage.

"Hang on," he rasped. He unbuttoned his shirt. "It's a fuckin' killer knot," he said, trying to sound nonchalant about it but the end of his sentence wavered. He shrugged the fabric from his shoulders, baring his back to her. His fingers turned white around the edge of the chair. Having all those terrible memories in plain sight triggered his instinct to run, to lash out, to seek shelter.

He tamped it down by blurting, "I was a shitty kid who had a shitty father." The explanation made his ears burn and his back twinge.

Darkly, Carol said, "I don't believe you ever did anything to deserve this. No child does."

His skin was hot, her fingers cool and he shivered under the contrast. Or maybe it was the affirmation and gentle kindness causing the sensation. All this life his back felt like a brand, one that displayed ownership and the quality of his character. But Carol wasn't standing there defining him by his scars.

She worked the knot in silence but also grew bold, tracing the bump at the top of his spine, parting the hair at the nape of his neck. Exploratory touches that had nothing to do with muscle relief. As his shoulder relaxed, tension coiled elsewhere in his body.

He'd been with women before. Flings after a round of darts at bars, Merle and his friends cackling behind his back. He'd been caressed as a means to an end, the physical coxing prerequisite to fucking. Where those had been purposeful touches, Carol's hands were lazy. Arousal coiled in him with each slow swipe of her finger.

He wanted to pick her up and press her against a wall.

"There. That's better," Carol said.

Face red, Daryl refused to turn around. He made a show of smoothly rolling the offending shoulder. "Thanks."

"Any time." She jumped a little as he fixed his shirt, as if she forgot she still had her hands on his skin. "If that knot comes back, you know where to find me!"

"I will." He stood a little too fast and bumped the chair into her. Both fumbling, they simultaneously grabbed the chair. He garbled a rushed apology. "What about you?" He gestured to her shoulder and the length of her arm. "I noticed it was bothering you after fence work."

"Oh! I'm okay, thank you," she said, but something in her tone gave away her white lie.

"Ya sure?"

"Yes. That's nice of you, but I will be fine." She forced a little chuckle and then fixed the chair. "Well, I, I should go grab dinner for us-and Sophia." Carol wiped her hands on her thighs, smiled, and sauntered out of the room.

A big part of him was convinced he did something wrong. Another part of him told him not to read into it. The last bit, the one he kept focusing on, whispered small impossibilities.

Him and Carol?

"Nah. It ain't like that."

Not for her, surely.

But him?

Daryl swallowed hard, willing his heart to quiet down.

A seismic shift occurred. All the warning trembles from before merged to one large earth-shaking change. Jonathan no longer talked to him as if he was just a quiet outcast that needed a bold man to speak for him. Daryl didn't think it was a menacing shift, but maybe a recalculated one. For his part, Daryl shrugged it off; it was about time Jonathan realized Daryl wasn't going to step in as one of his cronies.

They completed the water pump projected within a week without any major glitches. A rousing cheer went up the first time water flowed from the spigot within the fence. For the rest of the day everyone acted as if it was possible to get drunk on fresh water, grinning wildly and slapping each other on the backs. Someone started singing a song about a water buffalo and by the start of the second verse, half the kids and parents were singing along too.

Afterward, Kenny swiftly adopted Daryl as one of his top crew, sending him out on hunts, paying him with what surely was a dwindling supply of beer.

And that led to him and Carol.

They shared two beers each evening, whether the sun was setting or rain slid down the window panes. He looked forward to those runs for Kenny not just because he got to be outside but also because he and Carol's dinner time drinks were something he looked forward to. There weren't any more shoulder massages; after his reaction to the first one, he denied himself that pleasure.

Instead, they filled their evenings with stories.

He told her more about Merle and hunting. She divulged her good upbringing and how a high school boyfriend evolved into a husband and then abuser. Sometimes they would just sit in each other's company, content with digesting the new information. Then, out of the blue, Carol would laugh and tell him a story about Sophia as a baby. The girl would blush and protest. Only then would Carol relent with a twinkle in her eye.

Sometimes, when they'd clink their drinks together and Sophia would raise her water glass to theirs too, it didn't feel too far off from the very thing they were pretending to be: a family.

Author's Note: Well, there goes my once a week update schedule. I swear I can explain, lol!

This chapter was originally what I was calling a pivot chapter. Basically, we're switching over to the unofficial "Part 2" of this story. So the original chapter content here was exposition heavy. But as I was editing it, I decided I wanted to write out some of the action. The decision promptly killed my muse and then it took 2 weeks to wrangle myself back to finish this. It's a shorter chapter, but the next one should be meatier.

TL;DR version: I'm sorry for the late update!

Thanks for reading!-randomcat23