Chapter 2: a spark
A/N: Forgot tosay this in the first chapter but I don't really watch Walking Dead anymore. I love Daryl and Carol however. This story is obviously set in the prison and just kind of takes off from canon at that point. It's obviously romantic and sappy. Reviews are always welcome :)
Carol isn't sleeping when he gets back, but she also hasn't moved from her spot curled in his bunk. She's got a book in front of her nose but doesn't startle when he swings open the cell door and curtain combo and sets two plates down on the small nightside table.
"You're back," Carol says, gently placing the book down after slipping a small paper between the pages. He's always liked how she does that — she never dog-ears any pages or lays books so their spines bend out like broken things.
"Found a buck with Merle," he rasps, "should keep us fed for a bit."
She smiles, sitting up a bit, the blanket he pulled over her falling from her shoulders, "That's great. I'm sorry I didn't wake up earlier, I didn't even hear you come in."
Daryl hands her the plate of food he grabbed for her and sits down beside her on his bunk, "S'okay, I was quiet. Eat yer food."
Carol digs in with relish and they're silent for a while. She finishes before him and slips out of bed to take his plate. For an instant, their hands touch, and Daryl waits for the strike of lightning like before but it's not there.
"Sorry I was sleeping in your bed." Carol murmurs, eyes twinkling with good humour. She's a shameless flirt, some days.
Daryl opts for serious, "It's fine. You can use it."
Carol smiles, and it's a small serious thing that Daryl's never seen before. He likes her smile. She stands and opens the door but turns back before she leaves, "I'm glad you're back."
Daryl cannot respond, but he can feel the echo of her words brand themselves into his bones, like centuries of waves lapping against a rock, like the stillness of the air before thunder rocks into it, like lightning striking a forest again and again until it finally burns.
Perhaps this is what Maggie meant.
Merle disappears the same way he had arrived: without preamble, quietly in the night, and without any sign to whether or not it was a good thing. Rick turns the prison and the nearby woods apart searching for him and tracking him, but Daryl isn't worried.
The only thing that can kill Merle is Merle.
The cell is left open, no supplies in it, and the basic amount of rations gone from their stores. All in all, it's a fair trade-off.
Rick asks, over and over, "Do you know where he is? Where he went?"
Daryl's not sure, and he says as much, until one night he's laying in his bunk and he can feel the air above his bed move with every breath Carol takes. It feels as though the world is revolving around the way her gentle snores release into the cell, and the crinkle of the sheets as she turns.
Daryl slips out quietly and finds Rick holding Judith gently, rocking her back and forth in the common area. He sits down nearby and stares into the sleeping face of the baby, one who is growing rapidly, who is healthy and happy. Maybe the last one left.
"Merle woulda gone back to the Quarry." Daryl finally says, soft.
Rick eyes him, "There's nothing left for him there."
Daryl thinks of Andrea's blue eyes for a moment, "No, there ain't."
Rick sighs heavily, "Do you want to go after him?"
"No," Daryl says, "he'll be back, eventually. Merle ain't never been one to sit still."
The two men sit in silent companionship until the prison starts to rouse around them, and when Beth appears and Lil Asskicker starts to complain, Daryl slips back upstairs and into his cell.
Carol is sleeping in his bed again, and Daryl is exhausted. He resolves to sleep in her bunk if she must have his, and pulls the blanket up to her shoulder once more, letting his fingers linger on the skin of her arm. She is soft; gentle in a way that is slowly becoming more rare in this world. Daryl wants to wrap every inch of her skin in his; it's a carnal thought, but Daryl isn't entirely sure that's what he means. Slow currents move under her fingers, like the lightning from the day at the barn, but more solid. Finally, Daryl sees what Maggie means.
Carol's eyes open, blue and clear and perfect.
"I thought you'd gone," she murmurs, voice obstructed by sleep.
Daryl shakes his head, unwilling to dislodge his fingers from her shoulder for this brief moment in time. To touch her — to touch her is to know all of the meaning of the world.
"Jus' talkin' to Rick." he says.
She moves her body back slowly, his fingers falling away from her. She flips the covers up and open, invitation clearly spread over his stupid scratchy blanket. Her eyes are careful and watchful, but not forcing.
"Lie with me."
Daryl can hardly say no. He shrugs off his vest and slips under the covers. He's not touching her, which is a feat in the small bunks of the jail cell. Carol has closed her eyes and is breathing deep, sparing him the awkwardness of the moment. Daryl isn't sure what to do with his hands, bunched up around his chest.
It is her breathing that lulls him, eventually, to sink further into the pillow.
He wakes slowly to the sound of people's chatter and laughter, and Daryl thinks that maybe this is the nicest way he's ever woken up. Carol's back is to him, but one of his arms has snaked around her waist. He can feel the press of her skin through his fingertips, gently resting on her hip bones.
He extricates himself gently, and when he finally pulls away Carol turns over. He wonders if she's been awake the whole time, or if he woke her when he moved away. Her eyes blink sleepily at him, and she stretches.
"We've probably slept in enough, huh?" She asks, throwing the blankets back and pulling on a sweater. Daryl can only nod at her, not trusting himself to speak. "What's on the agenda today?"
Daryl frowns, "Might help Rick in the fields."
Carol nods, "Sounds good. I'll be in the kitchen, Sasha and I are counting rations and trying to find a good system for storing foods."
Daryl gives her a half-hearted wave as he stumbles out the door, feeling as lost as ever.
He is gone longer than a day, in the end. Glenn approaches him with the closest Daryl has ever seen to panic in his gaze, and Daryl listens when he stumbles over words and anxiety. They are sequestered away, close to the fields where Rick is hoping to farm. No one is nearby to hear them.
"I need your help, man," Glenn says, tripping over the words. "She's pregnant. Maggie's pregnant. We don't have the prenatal vitamins we need, we barely have enough food or formula for Judith, and… after Lori…" Glenn's voice chokes up and dies off.
Daryl is reluctantly impressed — Glenn, for all of the times both Daryl and his brother have insulted him, is both brave and independent. He has never asked for help before, and it means a lot that he would come to Daryl over this.
"Get me a list within the hour and I'll go," Daryl says, "I won't tell anyone, I'll just say I've gone out huntin'."
"I can come with you!" Glenn says, eager to prove himself and to help.
"No. And not 'cause I think you can't," Daryl says, trying to reassure when he barely knows how "but because yer place is here. Stay with Maggie."
Glenn nods, decisive and sure. He will be a great dad, Daryl is sure of it. He's a man made of loyalty and love, and this world has made him strong and brave. There's nothing he can't do — especially with Daryl wanting to help.
This world needs more babies.
He tells Rick in passing as he's heading out that he's going hunting. He promises him he'll be careful, and that he'll keep an eye out for anything strange. Tells him that he'll be back within three days. None of these things feel like lies on his lips.
"Hey, Rick?" Daryl says, just as he's about to leave.
Rick nods, chewing on his lips in a bad habit he hasn't broken yet, "Yeah?"
Daryl hesitates only a second, "Tell Carol not to worry, yeah?"
He doesn't wait for an answer before he slides into an old beater of a car that still runs, waving at Tyreese and Carl as they help open the gate and shut it behind him. Nobody questioned that he was taking a car on this hunting trip, not since he came home with such a big load last time.
It's lonely, more than Daryl ever would have expected. He's used to being alone, and he thrives when he's under the sky with only his crossbow and his thoughts. Still, he misses Carol, and the scratchy blanket on his bunk, and the sound of Judith Grimes' baby laugh.
He finds the first of the items at a pharmacy only a few dozen miles down the road. He kills eight walkers methodically, making sure everything is clear before he comes in and sweeps the place clean. He grabs vitamins and pregnancy tests and condoms and formula and diapers and thermometers and soothers. Daryl grabs shit he didn't even know babies needed, and extra stuff he thought they might want. On his way out he stuffs two plush bears into his bag because kids always deserved at least one soft thing to sleep with.
He spends the night pulled over into a gravel road, his gun in his hand with the safety on. He sleeps fitfully, every little sound driving him awake. He is on the road again before the sun graces the ground.
The car is rattling a little weirdly by the time Daryl finds the larger strip mall; it's got clothes and food and appliances all in one neat little package, but he'd be a fool to go in charging.
He syphons fuel into his old car first, even before he kills any walkers, because Daryl has been stuck without an escape before, and he never makes the same mistake twice. He pulls up to the back loading dock area of the store and leaves the trunk open and ready.
The clothing store is first, only because it had no movement in its windows when Daryl first looked. He only kills one walker in the entire time he's inside, and he comes away with clothes for both a new baby and a toddler, and a few things for everyone else in the group as well. Clothes aren't scarce in this new world, but the group always seems to have bloodstains and holes. They would be appreciated.
He picks out a soft grey sweater and two long sleeve tops with thumb holes, both shades of red. They aren't totally practical, but Carol doesn't own anything long sleeved except her jacket, and she deserves soft things.
The appliance store is the trickiest. He sinks his knife into walkers silently, bringing their reeking bodies to the floor as gently as possible. He's formidable, but Daryl isn't a fool — if he were to draw attention to himself there could be more enemies than even he could handle.
He kills sixteen of them, all said and done. He's exhausted, bloody, sweaty, and nearly ready to drop. He loads in some boxed furniture that he personally finds ridiculous: a crib, a car seat, a change table. He covers all of the boxes in the trunk of the car with an old tarp because Glenn has asked for the utmost secrecy.
He does come across the softest navy blue blanket he's ever felt and throws it into the front seat. He doesn't let himself linger on the fact that he's already thinking about how much better it will be than his regular scratchy blanket, and how much Carol will like it. Like it's their bed.
The food store is a bit of a bust. He gets some small canned goods that have been overlooked, but it's obvious that people looted this area long ago. He heads out of the area with a good haul all told, and he knows Glenn will be happy for it.
He spends another night pulled into the driveway of an old farmhouse. There are no living people for miles, and Daryl is somehow reminded of Herschel's farm. He doesn't miss those days, and he doesn't sleep even one minute with the barn staring at him from across the field.
He doesn't think he'll ever be able to look at a barn the same.
Daryl rolls into the prison when Glenn and Hershel are in charge of the door. He feels dead on his feet, exhaustion seeping into his bones. He hands the car keys over to Glenn after grabbing two bags out of the front seat.
"It's all yours, there's a buncha stuff in the back seat and trunk, and the car needs a look, it's rattlin' bad," Daryl says, voice grating from disuse. He holds up the bags he's grabbed, "Got some clothes for everyone. Gonna take 'em inside."
Glenn nods and his eyes are grateful, "Thank you, Daryl. Thank you."
Daryl saunters inside, clasping arms with Rick briefly. The man seems pleased he has returned in one piece, "Didn't get much for food, Rick. Got a lot of clothes and stuff, though."
Rick waves it away with a flick of his wrist, "Not to worry, Daryl. You've done a lot of good, and we're all happy you're back."
Daryl sets the bags on the table in the common area of the prison, pulling out only one smaller bag inside. He turns to Beth who is holding Judith; it's often only her in the common area during the day, doing her best to keep the baby happy and healthy.
"Beth, there's some stuff in there for Lil' Asskicker," Daryl says, "and a few other things. Let everyone know to take a peek and grab what they like."
Beth's eyes shine for a second and she grabs for a giant bag. Daryl wonders if this is the closest she'll ever get to shopping again. It's a bit disheartening to think, but Beth seems thrilled, and she coos over the little outfits for Judith.
He's climbing the stairs to his room tiredly and pulling back the curtain when he comes face to face with Carol. She's furious, in a way he hasn't seen in a long time. Her chest is heaving, and ire lights up her blue eyes. She's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.
"Daryl Dixon," she hisses, stepping back into their room for a semblance of privacy, "how nice of you to come home."
Daryl follows her into the room because he's not sure what else to do, and it was his room first, after all. He says nothing because he's not entirely sure why Carol's mad, and he's never been much good at making people less mad anyway.
He does hand her the bag, though. She grabs it without thinking, brushing his fingers.
Carol's eyes drift down to the bag, and it's clear she's torn between yelling at him more and seeing what it is he's brought her.
Her decision is made when she shoves a hand into the bag and pulls out the navy blanket first. She rubs her fingers along it gently and smiles a little.
"It's very nice," she says, rage forgotten.
"Thought it might be nicer than tha' one," Daryl replies, gesturing half-heartedly to the scratchy half wool blanket they slept under the last time he saw her.
Carol lays it out gently on the bunk and appears perplexed, "Definitely softer."
She pulls out the sweater and long-sleeved shirts next and touches them gently.
"They're for you," Daryl says, and then wants to sink into the ground because of course, they were for her. He's not used to talking and making a fool of himself, because he so rarely speaks. It's not enjoyable.
"I love them," Carol tells him.
Silence reigns while she slips the shirts into her pack. Daryl thinks for a moment about how both of them always have their bags ready to go, and the few drawers in the dresser in their room lay untouched. Unpacking never seemed like an option they could afford.
They are survivors.
Daryl sighs, breaking the silence, "I'm sorry? If I hurt yer feelings."
Carol pinches the bridge of her nose and looks at him, "You didn't hurt my feelings. I just didn't like being left behind and out of the loop. I had no idea you were even leaving and I thought — "
You thought I left you, too. Daryl fills in the blank where her sentence trails off. He remembers wondering constantly where Merle was, when he'd be back. It hadn't occurred to him that he'd done that to someone else, that sense of abandonment, of not being enough.
"I'm sorry," Daryl repeats, and it must be a record that he's said it twice in one conversation, "I'll tell you next time. It was just a rush job."
Carol nods decisively, "Did you get everything you needed?"
Daryl smirks, "Of course."
She laughs at his smugness, and all of her previous hurt is forgotten. She sits down on the new soft blanket and spreads her fingers over the fabric. She grins at the softness, and Daryl knows that he'll remember this moment for however long he lives.
Daryl doesn't mean to speak, but he can't quite shut down the words before they pop out of his mouth, "Merle's soulmate was Andrea."
Carol's mouth falls open, shocked in a way Daryl's never seen her before. It takes her a good long moment before she snaps her teeth closed and frowns slowly.
"I… I didn't know," she murmurs, "I'm surprised."
Daryl nods once, "I didn't know either. He jus' told me, before he disappeared."
"So she didn't know?"
Daryl shrugs, "Guess not. Merle said her soulmate had been her sister."
"I always thought mine would be Sophia," Carol says, a nostalgic little smile playing about her lips, "The moment they handed her to me I was expecting the shock."
"Jus' cause you didn' feel it doesn't mean ya didn' love her," Daryl offers, unsure if she needs comfort.
Carol laughs, "Of course not. I loved her more than anything. Didn't feel the lightning they talk about — but god, Daryl, the way those blue eyes looked at me? That felt like nothing I've ever heard of."
They both fall silent. Carol is still running her fingers along the blanket.
Daryl wants to say something else, something stupid like he understands because even without the lightning that runs under his skin every time he touches her, he has never felt anything like this before, has never loved anyone the way he loves Carol. He imagined Sophia had her same eyes and is it any wonder Carol loved her?
For the first time in what feels like months, everyone is gathered around the prison block, laughing. It's not a strategic meeting, no one is in immediate danger. They don't even have a guard posted — of course, Carol is heading up there the minute the meeting is done, but for now, they are together.
Rick is smiling — it's strained, but it's there. Daryl wonders if he's finally coming back to himself, finally ready to be a father to his new baby. He's a good man, but Lori's death nearly snapped him in two.
Surprisingly, it's Glenn that starts the meeting, "Hey everyone! So, I'm here to be the bearer of some good news. We have repaired all the fences surrounding the yard, and we're keeping the walker populace down. The fields are all starting to grow, and we've even gotten a few potatoes out of the ground. Carol and Sasha have reorganized and inventoried all of our rations, our weapons, and our medicines, and they have informed us that we have a very good stockpile, although it could always be better. Daryl has been hunting and clearing out Cell Block D with my help, and we've made pretty good progress."
Herschel's smile is wide, "Glenn, this is all great news."
Rick jumps in, "It's fantastic. Right now we're in a position to be building our numbers and recruiting other survivors, which is a scary prospect for everyone, I know. Now, I've learned my lesson and we're not going to go into this blind."
Tyreese steps forward, "Rick has approached me to lead a recon of the area. We're looking for small groups of survivors to start. We don't want to bring in any groups bigger than us that could potentially overpower us. Ideally, we're looking for small families, couples, pairs. We are going to start by observing them and seeing if they are possible matches for what we're working towards here."
"Then Tyreese is going to approach them and offer them a trial run with us here; they are expected to work, as we all do, and in return, there is safety in numbers and shelter behind this wall." Rick finishes, the old authority he used to have wrapped around him like a cloak surfacing once again.
Daryl's eyes meet Carol's across the room. Her fingers tangle together nervously and he nods once to show her he shares her reservations.
"Who else is gonna go with him?" Daryl asks. The room goes quiet at his question, surprised he even said anything.
Tyreese nods slowly, "Daryl's right, and we've talked about this quite a bit. We'd like a girl — strategically, it makes more sense to have both, just in case the survivors don't trust me. Initially, I was going to take Sasha, because we work well together, but we're both very new to this group and we didn't want to rock any boats."
Sasha interjects, "I'd still be happy to go! But we might have to take a third."
"Could Maggie go?" Rick turns to find Maggie, sitting behind Beth on the stairs. She looks tired, and a bit pale. Daryl knows the reason why, and he can see Glenn panicking at Rick's question from where he's standing.
"No," Daryl says softly, "I'll go with 'em."
The room is once again felled to silence, but Daryl doesn't take the words back. Rick nods slowly.
"It does make sense," he turns to Tyreese, "Daryl is the quietest we have out there — he could track people and watch them without anyone noticing."
Sasha nods, "He's also damn good with that crossbow, Ty. I'm good with it."
Glenn claps once, "Alright, any other objections? Otherwise, we're going to have Tyreese, Sasha, and Daryl heading out soon to check out the area."
"I'd like to take turns with Sasha," Carol interrupts, "if she doesn't mind."
Daryl scowls, but he knows he'd be a fool to tell Carol what to do. She's stronger than half the people in here, and he wouldn't mind having her at his back.
Sasha shrugs, "Doesn't bother me."
"Alright, that's it. Any other news?" Rick says, opening the floor for discussion.
Herschel stands up, "The next run we take it would be nice to grab some bed sheets. If we plan on opening Cell Block D and adding people to our group it would be great to have clean bedding."
"Noted," Glenn says, scribbling onto a notebook he's holding.
Rick glances over at Glenn's work and murmurs, "Add some more vegetable seeds to the list. We want to get as many as we can."
Carol stands briefly, resting her hand on her knife hilt, "I have been thinking — you know those old style privacy fence slats that people used to have? The kind for chainlink fence?"
"Yeah," Beth says slowly, "we had it out back around the garden, remember Maggie?"
Carol smiles, "Well I know it would take a ton of it, but it might be something to think about for the future. If the walkers can't see us inside here they might have less of a reason to come to the fence and lean against it. And if that doesn't work, maybe plywood or something?"
Daryl smirks at her when she finds his face — he's damn proud of her. She's always been resourceful, but the longer they stay here the more she comes out of her shell. Her ideas are always well respected, and it's no different this time.
"We'll definitely start thinking about that, Carol. It's a good idea." Rick says, his hand coming to rub at the beard growing in, "It would be worth not having to clear the fence every minute of every day."
The meeting devolves into chatter and Carol slowly picks herself up and heads towards the guard towers. Sasha and Tyreese are talking to Glenn, obviously talking strategy about the mapping of the area and where they'll go first. Daryl will just follow their lead on the missions and do his job, he's not really one to plan it.
Instead, he walks over to where Maggie is still perched on the stairs, watching her sister meander across the room to where their father stands. Daryl sits down beside her quietly, taking in the way she's a bit hunched over but smiling still.
"You feelin okay?" Daryl says softly, quiet enough that the conversation is only for the two of them.
Maggie glances at him and smiles softly, "Yeah, I'm good. Tired as hell."
"You let me know what you need," Daryl says, picking at the seam of his pant leg. Maggie doesn't say anything for a while and he doesn't want to look at her, unsure of what he'll see. It's the warm hand that rests on his leg for just a second before pulling away that surprises him into looking up.
"I will, Daryl," Maggie says, "and thank you. Glenn told me what you did. I appreciate it very much."
Daryl nods his head at her and stands up, ready to escape for the day. Maggie lets him go.
He climbs up to the guard tower, ready to be away from the crowd of people for a moment. he can't imagine what the prison will be like when they start adding more bodies to the pile, but he's almost looking forward to it — he's not sure if he'll like any new people, but it will be nice to be so surrounded by life. It's been a long time since that has happened.
Daryl takes the final step into the tower and sees Carol silhouetted in the sunshine of the window, gun resting gently against the wall. She glances back at the sound of his boots on the floor and smiles at him, turning back to her view without speaking. Daryl heads to where she's standing but sits, pressing his back against the wall to stare outside. After a moment Carol slides down to sit beside him.
She's warm where her body is resting against his, and she lets her boot flop over to rest on his ankle gently. They sit shoulder to shoulder, and Daryl wishes for just a little more time, more time, more time.
He understands now why people are so afraid to die — how could you leave peacefully with all of these moments left to experience?
"You gonna tell me what's going on?" Carol murmurs after what seems like a lifetime but is only moments.
Daryl's heart stops; he thinks about anything that could have given him away, but everything is as it always has been. They have slept in the same bed but Carol started that, not him? He thinks of answering but has no words to explain — how can he explain that lightning sifts under his skin and whispers her name with every pound of his heart; how can he tell her that he has known since the barn and has loved her since before he was born?
"You don't have to," Carol continue, "but I know something is going on with Glenn."
The whole world comes back into focus for a moment. Daryl breathes. It's the same.
He's almost regretful.
"Aint my secret," Daryl murmurs, "if it was, I'd tell ya."
Carol leans her head over and rests it on his shoulder, "I know you would, Daryl."
Carol is still working on inventory with Sasha by the time Daryl goes to their room. He climbs into his bed and pulls up the soft blanket, and he likes his bed even more now that he can imagine Carol trailing her fingers along his blankets.
He's startled awake when his blankets are pulled away and he's half ready to fight before he sees blue eyes he knows. Carol freezes at his movement and Daryl flops back down.
"Is this okay?" She whispers.
Daryl scoots as close to the wall as he can, leaving her space and inviting her in without words. He can't trust his voice at this moment, as she willingly crawls under his blankets and into his space. He wants to wrap her in his arms but he's not sure yet — may never be sure. She lays to face him, eyes tired in the dull light.
"I was talking to Sasha," she murmurs, "and it sounds like you're heading out at first light."
Daryl nods, still trying to blink the sleep away from his brain. He wants to savour every single second of this.
"You'll be safe out there?" Carol whispers. Daryl frowns at her because she has never questioned this before. She knows he is a survivor, she knows that out of everyone he could keep himself alive.
"O' course."
She finally looks at them and her eyes are endlessly sad, damp with tears. Daryl loves her more than anything, but he wishes he could never see this again — he wants her happy and smiling.
"What?" Daryl's hand shoots out almost without permission and closes gently on her wrist where it's nestled against her chest.
Carol sighs, "I'm being foolish. I'll miss you, is all."
Daryl finally remembers how to breathe — there are no words strung together more beautiful than those she has just given him. He will be missed.
Bravery flows through his veins and he reaches forward and tugs; she comes easily into his arms, resting her cheek over his thudding heartbeat. Daryl lets his fingers rest on every inch of skin he can find, and he aches.
"I'll be home soon," he murmurs. He wants to say more: he will come home to her, he misses her every second he doesn't see her, he loves, loves her. He has never been a man who is good with words, but Carol doesn't push.
Her breathing evens out soon after, and Daryl knows he needs to sleep if he is to get an early start, but he can't make his eyes shut. Walkers could storm the prison and he doesn't think he'd be able to drag himself away.
Daryl knows he's dangerous; he learned to fight before he could walk, he can kill animals and people alike with weapons or bare hands. He's known desperation and starvation, but he has never felt this before.
He will do anything, be anything to keep Carol safe. He will always return to her.