Chapter 3: a storm
A/N: Sorry to everyone, I really thought I had posted this on here but I only posted it on ao3 (sigh). Enjoy.
He has been away for eighteen days. It's just over two weeks, but in this world filled with death and zombies, it is a lifetime. Anything could have happened in this time.
Sasha and Tyreese are good though, in ways Daryl didn't predict. They work as a well-oiled machine together, silently communicating and traveling. Daryl fits in seamlessly, and he's pleased that everyone is pulling their own weight.
They're kind, too. More so than most people who are still alive are. They check to make sure none of the group is tired, they share the rations they've brought. When they find their first pair of survivors they approach them with gentle words and promises of peace.
It makes the fact that Daryl had to shoot one while Tyreese took care of another worse — there is no room in their hearts or the prison walls for those who murder and steal. Sasha took it the hardest. They hadn't found anyone else for over another week until now.
Daryl has been tracking a woman for two days, and they have finally caught up with her. Tyreese is waiting in the trees as Sasha and Daryl approach, hopeful that this interaction goes better.
They are silent as they travel towards her camp through the trees, and yet when they emerge from the foliage the woman is standing, facing them. Her face is expressionless, but the long sword she holds between them tells them she is prepared to fight. There are two walkers chained to the tree near her, jaws snapped off. Daryl has never seen anything like it.
"We don't want to hurt you," Sasha starts, "we'd just like to speak to you."
The woman quirks a single eyebrow, "Why have you been following me for two days?"
Daryl frowns — she had known they were tracking her?
"We are looking for other survivors. We have a safe space that we are welcoming some people to, and we usually follow anyone first to make sure we aren't inviting in anyone dangerous." Sasha's hands are up as if to pacify, but Derek knows how fast she is getting to her gun.
The woman's lip twitches, as if she wants to laugh. "So you think I'm not dangerous."
For the first time Daryl speaks up, "I think yer dangerous alright, but not a murderer."
The woman inclines her head after a moment, "Okay. Let me hear your pitch."
Sasha breathes, relieved. "We have a large group of survivors. Women, men, children. We have a solid plan in place for survival, and we'd like to expand our numbers and help out others. We ask that anyone who joins us also pulls their weight; this could mean scavenging, killing walkers, guarding, farming, whatever. Something. No killing people, no endangering the others. You follow our rules and you stay."
"And if I break them? You make me leave?" The woman asks.
Daryl interrupts Sasha. He's tired of being away from home and playing nice. This woman is obviously not an idiot. "We kill you, prob'ly. If you fucked up 'nough to get kicked out we'd kill you."
"Daryl!" Sasha snaps, "We would not."
Daryl turns to her, "If she was hurtin' anyone in our group I'd kill 'er. So would anyone else."
Sasha turned back to the woman, and Daryl could almost see the desperation. She wanted this mission to be a success.
"What's your name? I'm Sasha."
"And that's Daryl," the woman drawled, "I'm Michonne. You might as well invite your other friend out, too."
Tyreese stepped out within moments, gun pulled but safety still on. He moved to join his sister and eyed Michonne up and down.
"I'm Tyreese."
Michonne nodded and stared at their mismatched trio for a long time before she finally nodded.
"You said you had kids. At this safe place."
Sasha nodded warily, "Yes. Only two. One is young."
Michonne is silent for a long moment, her eyes far away. When Daryl shifts his weight she focuses in again and seems determined.
"I'd like to come with you, but I ask that you'd let me go if I decide to leave within three days."
Tyreese frowned, "I would have to ask the man in charge. Should be fine."
"You gotta ditch those… things." Daryl gestured to the jawless walkers distastefully.
Michonne huffed. "They keep others away with their smell. But if you insist." Within seconds her sword was up and slicing through the air, and the walkers dropped to the ground. She had her sword wiped and sheathed within seconds of dispatching them.
"For the record," Michonne murmured as she turned away from the bodies, "if you so much as think about harming me, I will cut you down just as quickly and just as easily."
Daryl didn't doubt her for a single second.
They are finally, finally on the way home. The four of them are huddled in a small cabin they had found, it's clear from walkers and provides a modicum of protection from the rain Daryl knows is heading their way. None of the group are big talkers, although Sasha has been making a concentrated effort since Michonne joined their party.
Their silence is broken only by chewing of the last bits of jerky they had brought with them and Tyreese flattening out some type of cloth for sleeping on. Daryl's on the first watch, and he's grateful. He's been on the middle watch for the last two days and he's exhausted down to his bones. They haven't let Michonne do any watches alone, but so far Daryl actually likes her. He hopes she fits in at the prison.
"Did you ever have a soulmate?" Sasha asks Michonne quietly, "I know it's not something you usually ask people. You don't have to tell me. I've never felt the electricity, I'm just curious."
Michonne nods, "He died."
"I'm sorry," Sasha says gently. Daryl doesn't know why she asked, expecting a different answer.
"It's not your fault," Michonne says, kinder than Daryl would have been in her situation, "the electricity is the second craziest thing I've ever felt. The love I felt was the first." She lays down and turns away after her words, and Sasha doesn't say anything else to her.
"Maggie and Glenn are soulmates," Daryl tells her after a while, "You could always talk to them if you wanna know."
Sasha's eyes go a bit dreamy, "I wonder if they're the last ones left."
"They ain't," Daryl says, probably more harsh than he should have. Sasha stares at him curiously.
"Jus' cause we only got them doesn't mean others aren't out there." Daryl adds, "And also, Carl is Rick's soulmate, same as Lori was."
Sasha's eyes go wide, "I didn't realize it could be kids?"
Daryl shrugs, "And friends, and relatives. Doesn't have ta mean love like that."
He stares resolutely out the window and prays Sasha won't ask him any other questions. He doesn't know how long he can talk about soulmates without feeling like his very skin will peel from his body.
God, where is Carol? He hopes she is okay. He thinks he would have felt it if she wasn't.
They roll up to the prison the following day. Daryl has never been happier to see the grey walls and fences, but he can see Michonne tensing him further and further beside him. They had told her it was a prison, but he'd be stressed too if he was in her shoes, finally seeing the foreboding location in person. The fence opens wide like the maw of hell itself and Daryl is ready for any move that Michonne might make suddenly.
He's not ready for the way she suddenly relaxes in her seat, the sigh escaping her. Daryl stares ahead, curious as to what has finally put her at ease.
It looks the same as he remembers — the corn that Rick had planted is perhaps a little taller, and Daryl can see Herschel working in the field. Carl is holding Judith, off in the distance a bit. Glenn is at the gate, all smiles and excitement at having seen them again. He's waving and shouting and Maggie is running over to them.
Daryl finally sees it, what Michonne is seeing: family. It's obvious, now that he knows what to look for; the people all around them are excited they have returned. They obviously care about Tyreese, Sasha, and Daryl.
It's a rare thing in this world to have a place to call home, and people that love you.
Daryl gets out of the car and walks around to open the door for Michonne. It's not a leftover habit of some gentlemanly life, but they had discussed it, and it made sense that Michonne would stick with one of them until everyone was comfortable.
Rick is ready when Daryl turns, Michonne at his side.
"Hey Rick," Daryl smirks, "this is Michonne. She's alrigh' I guess."
Michonne rolls her eyes at Daryl and then turns very serious and sticks her hand out for Rick to shake, "It's nice to meet you. I have to say, I didn't believe a word from these three, but from what I can tell, you all seem decent people. I ask to have three days to get to know you, and I will decide if I want to stay after that. Is that possible?"
Rick frowns for a moment and stares at the sky, squinting a little in the sunshine. He nods slowly, "That's fair," he drawls, "but if you are determined to be a threat to our people, don't think we will hesitate."
Michonne cracks the first smile Daryl has ever seen from her, "I respect that. Looks like y'all have a good thing here."
Michonne gets introduced to Glenn next, and Glenn pulls Maggie in by the shoulders easily to introduce her. Maggie looks better than when Daryl last saw her, grinning and laughing at whatever Glenn is saying. Daryl is thrilled to see them, but he's desperate for a glimpse at Carol. She is nowhere around.
He must look frustrated, because it's Rick who finally breaks away from the conversation and says, "She's inside, making some dinner I think. Probably didn't hear the commotion. Beth's with her."
Daryl takes off without another word, hiking his pack over his shoulder. Michonne gapes at him for a moment, but Tyreese and Sasha are still there and Daryl figures he's played his part by getting her back here.
The prison is cool and dark, and Daryl has never been so happy to see cell walls. Beth is sitting at the small table peeling what looks to be potatoes and she lights up when she sees him.
"Daryl," her voice is hushed, "oh, I'm so glad you're back! Carol just snuck off for a nap, she was on guard tower last night and was tired. You should wake her though, she'll be thrilled to see you."
Daryl clasps Beth's shoulder in thanks and tells her he's glad to be home. He's not proud of the way he nearly takes off up the stairs to their cell at a run, but Beth doesn't make a sound or laugh so Daryl figures it's their secret.
He yanks back the sheet, not sure what he's expecting beyond finally, finally seeing her face.
He's not disappointed; she is curled up on his bunk — their bunk — sound asleep. She looks a bit more tired than he remembers but still beautiful. God, Daryl's not sure he's ever seen anything so beautiful in his entire fucking life.
The steps he takes are silent, and then he's kneeling beside the bed, settling his pack onto the ground. He's dirty from being on the road, and every fiber of his being wants to crawl in beside her and Daryl is tough as nails, but he's not brave when it comes to this. The thought of his welcome, after all these days, is unsure.
Still, when her eyes open he doesn't know why he hesitated. They are blue and sleepy, and Daryl reaches out without thinking to cup her cheek in his palm. He's never touched her like this before; with this sense of urgency and belonging. His skin burns where the electricity rumbles, and he welcomes the feeling back like an old friend.
Carol's eyes clear at the touch and before Daryl can comprehend what's happening she's scrambling out of bed and into his arms on the floor. He's got her wrapped up tightly, her tiny fingers are claws in his vest. They're sitting on the dusty floor, and Daryl's pressing his face into her hair, wondering if this is just another dream.
"You're back," Carol murmurs into the crook of his neck. Daryl can't speak for the lump in his throat so he just nods.
After an eternity or just a few minutes, she pulls back, staring at his face. She's wearing the shirt he got for her. She runs her hands over his arms as if checking for injury. Neither of them speaks. It's only once her hands rest on his shoulders that Daryl feels like he needs to offer some words, though he half feels as though his brain has turned to mush now that he has her in his arms.
"We found someone," he says, softly, "she's nice. Tough. Yer gonna like her."
Carol's eyes fill with tears and Daryl almost panics, but she's swiping her fingers at them before he has the chance and laughing.
"Sorry," she mutters, "I'm being stupid."
Daryl snatches her hand and pulls it away, furious and heartfelt, "Yer never stupid."
Carol grins and tucks herself back into him again, "I missed you."
The words are just as beautiful as the first time she had said them to him. He has missed her every second of every day he was away, and he has thought of every memory he has to tide him over. He knows the sound of her voice, has every damn word she's ever spoken to him memorized by now, and if he were to spend every minute of the rest of his life listening to her it would still sound better than all the music of the world.
"No more than I missed ya," Daryl says, gentle and heartfelt. He's never done this before, and it shows. Still, Carol is easy in his arms and her expression is nothing but thankful.
She clambers off him and pulls him up to the bed, where they sit shoulder to shoulder. Daryl tells her about their mission, even the hard parts, and she clasps his hand when he tells her he had to kill someone. It is silent for a while before Carol starts in on what's been happening while he was away.
"The prison has been quiet. Almost peaceful, though I hesitate to say the word for fear of jinxing us," Carol laughs softly, "the crops Rick planted are all doing well, and Glenn managed to scavenge some pesticides we might use. We don't know if we want to; Herschel is against it, but we also can't afford not to have some type of saved food for next winter."
"Herschel'd probably know best," Daryl says.
"True. We'll figure it out, we have time yet. Judith said 'Dada' the other day! That was probably the most thrilling thing that happened while you were away."
Daryl smirks, "Can't believe she didn't say Daryl."
Carol laughs, "Maybe that's what she was aiming for, but Rick is positive it was a Dada, not a Daryl. Beth and I were working on canning some food when it happened. Haven't seen Rick that happy in a long time."
"It's good to hear," Daryl grunts, "he's had a tough go."
Carol nods quietly, mourning Lori in their silence. It hasn't been an easy road to get where they are.
"The other news is," Carol's voice is a whisper now, conspiratorial, "and you can't tell anyone I told you, but I am pretty sure Maggie's pregnant."
Daryl wants to believe he keeps a straight face, but he's never made a practice of lying, and especially not to Carol. He can feel himself staring at the blanket and going red.
"Daryl Dixon," she gasps, "you knew? And you didn't tell me?"
Daryl sputters, "I didn' — I wanted to… I jus'-"
Carol laughs and Daryl calms for a moment when he realizes she's not angry, "Was that the supply run? The one where you just disappeared?"
"Ya," Daryl breathes, "Glenn asked me. I couldn't say no, and he said not to tell anyone."
Carol's smile makes his heart stop, "So now we have no more secrets."
She lays her head down on Daryl's shoulder after that proclamation, and Daryl wants to sink through the floor with the weight of the secret he has. He's testing words in his brain, trying to figure out the best way to tell her, because whatever else he is, he's not a liar. And he's never actually lied to Carol, but he's not one to split hairs, and lying by omission is just as bad.
It's a knock at their cell that saves him. Maggie pokes her head in and sees them sitting there. She's grinning.
"Come down guys, there's dinner, and Michonne is trying to remember all our names."
Carol clambers out of the bunk and heads towards the door, Daryl in tow. He's still struck a bit speechless, but he follows them both down the steps, and Maggie and Carol chat while he hovers silently. He supposes it's nothing new that he isn't saying anything.
Everyone is gathered at the main cell and there is more food than Daryl has seen in a while on the makeshift table. Michonne looks a bit shell-shocked, but Daryl has seen firsthand how tough she is, and it will take more than food and good company to truly rattle her.
"Hey everyone," It's Tyreese speaking, loud and excited, "this is Michonne. Take it easy on her as she remembers names. For the next few days, we're posting double guards, one inside and one in the tower. No offense Michonne! I'm the first inside."
"Second inside," Rick chimes in.
"Third," says Glenn.
"I'm first in the tower," Maggie says, "And I think Beth is taking over after me."
"I'll do third," says Herschel, calm and collected as always, "Now enough business. It looks like we're all going to get some good food tonight. It's wonderful to meet you, Michonne. We hope you feel welcome here."
"Thank you," Michonne says softly, "I hope so, too."
Daryl is distracted by Judith after that when Beth brings her over and he can't help but reach to squeeze her fingers gently and brush her almost strawberry blonde hair. So far Judith looks like neither of her parents nor Shane. Daryl almost thinks it's a blessing. Easier for everyone to ignore her heritage.
"I heard Lil' Asskicker here said Daryl," he says, and Judith lets out a peal of laughter.
Rick is quick to jump in, "Aw, no. Don't you dare, Daryl. She said dada, and that's final."
Daryl smirks, warmth filling him to be around his family once again. He feels as though his heart could burst, and it's as unfamiliar a feeling as it is a welcome one. He's never experienced this before, and he never thought it would be possible after the zombie apocalypse.
A plate is pushed into his fingers, and he glances up to see Carol grinning at him in her own way, as though they have some type of inside joke. It's his favourite smile.
"You looked lost in thought," she says, "and you're going to miss out on dinner. Eat up!"
"Thanks," Daryl says, taking the plate and having a seat on the stairs. Carol joins him and is eating from her own plate when Michonne walks up. She looks wary but pleased, as though she can't believe what she's seeing.
"Daryl."
Daryl nods at her, "Hey. This here is Carol."
Carol smiles, "It's nice to meet you. I'm glad you came back with them."
"Me too, I think." She glances up the stairs behind Daryl, "Look, this is going to sound weird, but can I find a cell near yours? It's just, I mostly trust you… you know?"
Daryl's surprised, but he supposes it makes sense. She had slept with him guarding her for the last few nights and in a room full of strangers that makes him preferable. She'd probably already asked Tyreese and Sasha, but they had the last unoccupied cell in the downstairs block.
"Sure," Daryl says, "ours is the first one on the right at the top. It's got a blue sheet over the door."
"There's an empty cell two down from us, or directly across." Carol chimes in.
Michonne's eyes flicker in shock for a moment but then settle, "Great. Thanks."
She walks off and Daryl finishes his food, thrilled to be eating something other than jerky and canned goods.
"Ours, huh?" Carol's face is positively mischievous.
"We both sleep there." Daryl flushes unwillingly.
Carol winks, "I like sharing with you, Pookie."
"Stop." Daryl groans, but he can't help the grin that spreads across his face.
Michonne chooses the cell two down from theirs in the end. Carol helps clean it up a bit while Daryl tracks down a sheet to hang over her door. Michonne settles her pack into the corner and puts on the clean sheets they bring her.
After everything is done Carol hands Michonne a water canteen and a few granola bars.
"Keep them in here, sometimes if we have a low food day it's good to have a snack," she tells her, "and we have lots of sheet sets that Daryl or Glenn have picked up so don't be afraid to grab a new set anytime, we can always wash them."
"Thank you," Michonne says softly.
Carol grabs Daryl's arm and they head out the door, but not before Carol extracts the promise that Michonne will come get them if she needs anything. Daryl knows Michonne will never actually act on that promise — she's similar to him in many ways, and it's not hard to recognize that she's used to acting on her own. She won't ask for help unless she's exhausted every other avenue.
Daryl kicks off his boots and his vest as soon as they get back in their cell. He hasn't slept without shoes on in ages, and he's excited to have even that little comfort again.
Carol pulls her sweater off without preamble, with her back to him, and Daryl nearly falls over. He's seen her bare skin before, mostly by accident. Travel long enough in the wilderness and eventually, everyone loses a little modesty, but Carol has never done this before.
She puts on a different baggy shirt and turns back to him. He's long since flicked his eyes to the floor, but he's sure his cheeks are stained red. He hears her pants hit the floor, and he doesn't dare look up.
When she finally settles on the bed beside him she's wearing a baggy t-shirt and pajama shorts. He's never seen her wear them before.
"I ain't seen you wear pajamas ever," Daryl mutters.
"I just got tired of sleeping in my battle clothes." Carol answers.
Daryl can understand that — he's thought it before, how sad it is that they still live out of their backpacks.
Now that he's looking though, Carol's pack is empty by the shelves. Her clothes are in neat stacks.
"You unpacked." He states.
Carol looks nervous, and she's wringing her fingers together, "Yeah. I'm ready."
Daryl stands and turns to her. He doesn't really know what she's asking him, but it feels like a test. He grabs a clean t-shirt from his pack and stares at its softness. It takes more time than he'd like to admit, but he reminds himself that she's seen his skin before, and the worst she had done was kiss his forehead and tell him that he was every bit as good as everyone else.
He peels off his shirt and puts the new one on in as few movements as he can. He pulls off his jeans to reveal fairly tattered boxers underneath. Carol is waiting under the covers and watching him with dark eyes. She is terrifying and mystifying and incredible all at once.
Daryl crawls in with her, brushing his skin against her bare skin. They've never done this before, for all that they have slept together and become even closer recently. He's never touched her beyond her arms and her face, and the smooth expanse of her legs is uncharted and terrifying territory.
"Too much?" Carol whispers.
Daryl must look as shell-shocked as he feels, then. He frowns, though, because if anything is too much, it's the idea that Carol could ever think that she wasn't perfect.
"Nah," he murmurs, "it's good."
Carol twines a leg between his, pressing her ankles into him. He reaches and snags a hand, wrapping his clumsy fingers into hers. He feels words pressing at his throat, and he's desperate to tell her everything, but also terrified.
"You wanna know somethin'?"
Carol's smile is slow and lazy, "Of course."
"Today, when we rolled up with 'Chonne, I was thinkin' that she got calm real fast, you know? I woulda been ready for anythin', and she was, but then she jus' kinda… relaxed?"
Carol shrugs, "She obviously trusts you and Tyreese and Sasha."
"Nah, it ain't that," Daryl says, "it's what she saw. It's easy to see it, sometimes, when we're all together."
"What?"
Daryl reaches out and brushes some hair away from her face, "We're a family. I ain't never had that before. Took me a bit to see it."
He wants to say more, but he's already shared more with her than he's ever shared.
Carol's eyes look suspiciously damp, but she pulls herself closer and rests her head on his outstretched arm. "Of course we are, Daryl."
He falls asleep easily for the first time in eighteen days.
Daryl wakes up with Carol's hair tickling his face, her head resting over his heartbeat. He's never been grateful for the world going to shit the way it did until this precise moment, but he knows that he'd never have met Carol in his previous life, he'd never have this. This world is hard and horrible and full of death, but it is also full of miracles.
He pulls his hand up to rest on Carol's back, and he doesn't even begrudge her the way his hand tingles from lack of blood flow.
She wakes up slowly, blinking and rubbing her face on his t-shirt. When she finally rolls off she doesn't stray far but smiles at him from the pillow beside him.
"G'morning," his voice is gravelly.
Carol is glowing. "Good morning," she murmurs, "I think I'm late for my watch."
Daryl frowns, "Yer never late."
Carol grins, "I know. I'll have to go now, it's definitely past sunrise."
Daryl closes his eyes again, "I'll bring you breakfast."
"Take your time," Carol murmurs. She slips out of bed easily, and Daryl only opens his eyes briefly to see her sling her rifle over her shoulder and head out of their door. He falls back into sleep like he never left.
The next time he opens his eyes he feels more rested than he has in ages, and he clambers out of bed much less gracefully than Carol had. He goes downstairs to get some breakfast, happy that he has nothing to do today since he's just returned from his long scouting mission.
He runs into Maggie as he's making a small plate for Carol in the kitchen. Maggie is humming as she walks in, and she looks healthy. It's a good look.
"Hey," he grunts.
Maggie beams, "Hey! Are you taking Carol breakfast?"
Daryl shrugs, but its fairly obvious from the two portions of everything he has in his hand.
"She'll be thrilled. She missed you."
Daryl flushes and rolls his eyes. He's come a long way on the emotional front since joining this group, but he still doesn't love the idea of talking his feelings out.
"Make sure you say hi for me! I'm supposed to be taking over her shift after lunch." Maggie waltzes away and Daryl half-smiles as she goes, happy despite himself because it's a good thing when one of their own is doing so well.
He can't wait to have another kid around the prison — Daryl's not much into babies, but there's something nice about Lil Asskicker having someone to play with, of having safety and growth inside their walls.
The stairs up to the guard tower take him longer than usual with his full hands. The ladder for the final stretch is more of a challenge than Daryl would like to admit, but he clambers into the room eventually, and Carol turns at the sound.
She smiles when she sees him, and Daryl can't imagine a world where he would ever tire of people being happy to see him. It's still a foreign notion to him, and every single time Carol lights up when she sees him is extraordinary, treasured.
"I brought food," Daryl mutters and goes to sit by her.
They eat in silence, legs casually nudging against one another. The prison is quiet today, celebratory with Michonne's entrance and everyone's return. Rick is toiling in the fields with Herschel, and it looks as though Michonne is watching them. Glenn is nowhere to be seen, but neither is Tyreese, so Daryl bets they are trying to clear out one of the other prison sections so it can be habitable.
"I think we should try and find a single bed." Carol says, "To put beside ours and make it bigger."
Daryl lets the words tumble around his head for a moment, shocked. Words like 'we' and 'ours' and 'bed' fit like jagged edges in his mind. It takes him time, but Carol never rushes, never pushes, and god, he wants.
He imagines a world where they have a large bed, covered in soft blankets, and a window that lets in sunlight. He imagines for a moment that they don't live in a prison, and he gets Carol safe and washed in golden sunlight, and Daryl has never been considered a daydreamer before, but he feels lost in that thought for a thousand years.
Sadly, it's a prison they're in, and it's zombies and death all around them, but Daryl has never been so thrilled over the prospect of a bed.
"Alright," he says because it's all he can say. He can feel his ears going red.
Carol's eyes are glittering with laughter and Daryl realizes suddenly that he wants to kiss her. Fuck, he so badly wants to kiss her. For a second Daryl wonders if she knows what she's doing to him; he stares at her eyes and her smile and, just, all of her. He's not even touching her and there is electricity under his skin, and Daryl thinks he could run a hundred thousand miles without tiring as long as it was towards Carol.
He scrambles up because it's all he can think to do. He needs time to get himself under control, and he doesn't know if there's enough time in the world for him to feel like his life hasn't spiraled out of his hands.
Carol doesn't even say bye, just smirks as he disappears as quickly as he came.
He doesn't really need to apologize for disappearing on her. Carol knows him better than he knows himself most days, but he still feels a bit weird about just bailing when she brought up the bed.
It's also not helpful that Daryl has the day off — a fact he had reveled in only hours prior but now despises. He's not built for sitting still.
His crossbow and knife are easy to grab and he's off into another Cell Block without a moment's hesitation. He keeps his eyes and ears sharp in case he ends up running into Glenn, but he has a feeling they went into Cell Block A and he's in C. The prison itself is nearly empty of walkers inside, with a few exceptions inside locked cells. They had worked hard to clean out the majority of the cell blocks and make sure there were no weak links between each of them that could put them at risk.
Daryl only finds three walkers in the whole block, and he checks every room he finds. He makes a note to tell Rick that they could open this cell block within a week if everyone took some time and did a thorough sweep together. It has a lot more living space than their current block; it seems like the full cafeteria and entertainment room was on this block.
Daryl finds a single bed in what seems to be a solitary room easily and starts taking what he can apart. He strips the sheets and beats the hell out of the mattress to get rid of any dust that has built up. The frame is simple to pull into two pieces, and Daryl carts both of them back to the entrance one by one, his dagger in one hand just in case. The mattress is harder, only because he struggles to navigate through the halls and keep alert. It's impossible to have his weapons out for this one, but Daryl feels fairly confident that nothing will jump out at him.
By the time he has everything stacked against the door that will take him back to his cell block, he's dripping sweat and hungry, but happy he's almost done. He leaves his work for a bit and scouts out their Cell Block and finds that no one is in the common area, so he hurries to move the bed.
It's not that he's embarrassed exactly, but he doesn't want anyone to comment or make Carol uncomfortable. It's a new thing, and they're not… together, but they're not nothing either. Daryl isn't willing to let anything jeopardize what he's got right now.
He manages to get the whole bed in their room and set up before he hears anyone downstairs. It sounds as though he missed lunch, which means that Carol is no longer on watch. Briefly, he wonders where she could be, but he isn't particularly worried. Carol hates sitting still about as much as he does.
Daryl hits the freezing showers the prison has with relish. It's been a while since he had running water, no matter how cold, and he feels grimy from his morning. His hair is getting long, and he knows soon Maggie will start pestering him to get a haircut until he finally gives in.
He snags some new clean sheets on his way back to the room, but when he swings the makeshift door aside Carol has already returned.
She's sitting on the new mattress looking bemused and fond, and Daryl tries to imprint the expression on his brain because it's one he's never seen before and he wants to know all of Carol's expressions.
She smiles at him, "Didn't think you'd come around to the idea so quickly."
Daryl flushes and tries to roll his eyes to cover it, "had nothin' to do today. Seemed smart."
Carol stands and walks close to him, slow and gentle as if she was approaching something wild and feral. She wasn't wrong.
"It's good, Daryl," she murmurs when she's standing right in front of him. Her eyes are sparkling, and they are more beautiful than all the things Daryl has ever seen. He rubs his hand on the back of his neck, a bit lost for words.
Carol slips into his space easily and wraps her arms around his ribs loosely, pressing only briefly before pulling away. He wants to wrap himself around her and press her into him until she becomes one with him, keep her so close to his skin that he will never be able to untangle himself from her.
"Thank you," she says, and he is lost to her.
"Ain't nothin'," he tells her, "anytime."
Carol smirks and starts putting the sheets on the new bed, and Daryl forces himself to disappear again before he says something stupid.
In the end, it isn't him who has to say something stupid. They're all gathered for dinner, some type of thick stew Maggie and Beth created. It's hearty and delicious, and none of them are so far removed from a time when they were starving and their ribs stuck out like broken puzzle pieces inside their chests, and they savour every single morsel. Daryl is sitting on the edge of the table, watching his family interact with each other. It's loud and joyful, and it's like nothing Daryl has ever had before he suddenly had it at the end of the world with this random assortment of people.
Rick is gesturing with his hands, and he's smiling, which is something that only Carl and Judith have been able to drag out of him since Lori's death. It's nice to see. Michonne is watching Beth hold Judith, and Daryl comforts himself with the fact that she already looks like she'd be willing to put a sword through anyone that threatened the baby. She looks half in love with her already.
Maggie clears her throat loudly and waits till Rick stops gesticulating and stares at her. Everyone has fallen silent, and Maggie is blushing furiously until Glenn finally stand beside her. He's practically vibrating with excitement, and Daryl counts back the weeks in his head until he realizes that they're about to change everything again.
Maggie clears her throat again, awkwardly, and Beth looks as though she's about to laugh at any second, until finally, Maggie glares hard enough that she finds her words, "We have some news to share," she starts, "but Glenn and I thought we should tell you all now."
Rick looks a little pale, but he nods as Maggie starts to lose her steam. She blows out her breath heavily for a moment and then says: "I'm pregnant."
There is a vast silence in which Daryl wonders if everyone is going to lose their minds. It's hard for them because Lori was not so long ago that they have forgotten the dangers. Still, Daryl thinks of Judith, and he knows it's good. He knows that even Lori knew it was good.
The silence stretches so long that Daryl finds himself standing up, almost not of his own volition, and he reaches across the table and shakes Glenn's hand.
"Congrats, man," he says, and his voice sounds as though it's been dragged over gravel, "it will be an honour to be the favourite uncle again."
Rick bursts into welcome laughter and even Glenn pretends to be affronted. Herschel is slyly wiping at his eyes and Daryl half-smirks. Maggie is beaming at him with pure gratitude, and Daryl would basically like to sink into the floor.
Still, the silence has been broken, and suddenly everyone is congratulating Maggie and Glenn and hugging them. Beth is crying, but Daryl thinks that perhaps for the first time in a long time she's crying out of happiness.
He sits quietly again and is happy to let himself be quiet in the face of all the celebration. Carol is hugging Glenn, and Tyreese has Maggie in a big bear hug.
Soon things quiet down, and Glenn sobers a little. "We know it's frightening, and we are scared. But things seem good, Maggie looks to be about two maybe three months along. We have a lot of the stuff we need already, and we've been fairly secure here. I don't want to jinx anything, but we're hopeful that this could be something good."
Rick's smile is a little strained, but his voice is warm and proud, "Glenn and Maggie, this already is something good. It's wonderful."
Everyone devolves into quiet conversation again, and after a while, Rick says he's off to take watch. It's a load of shit, Daryl knows, but he also understands the man's need for a bit of solitude after the bombshell that was just dropped on him. Carl follows not long after, and Daryl thinks it's probably best that his son is the person to comfort him.
"Is he okay?" Michonne asks Sasha quietly, who has been fairly somber throughout the meal.
Sasha shrugs, "He's good. His wife — Lori — she passed away recently."
Michonne sighs; the kind of weary sigh that someone who is used to losses understands, "Damn. Walkers?"
"Childbirth," it's Maggie's quiet voice that answers, "we saved Judith, but not her."
Michonne's eyes close painfully, "I'm sorry to hear that."
The table is quiet and mournful, "We were nervous. To tell him, after all, that." Maggie says, "But he took it well."
"He loves Judith," Carol says, her voice a bit sharp, "and he would never disrespect Lori by thinking that her death was pointless. He's thrilled for you guys, don't doubt that."
Glenn nods, "We know. It's just tough on him. I can't imagine losing a soulmate." He glances at Maggie, and devotion and agony war on his face, as if just voicing the fear has given him unimaginable pain.
Michonne's face could be carved out of stone for all the expression it holds, "I can. I wouldn't wish it on anyone."
Sasha flushes, "I am very sorry I brought that up when we first found you."
Michonne waves her apology away, "It's fine. You didn't know."
Everyone is watching in rapt attention, and Michonne finally sighs and tells the story of her husband's death. She's leaving out details, it's obvious to everyone, but the gist is familiar to everyone anyway. He got bitten trying to save someone, and that was the end. Michonne doesn't say who took care of him, but Daryl doesn't need to ask.
He doesn't want to think it, but unbidden the thought of having to kill Carol, even as a walker comes to his brain. Daryl admires Michonne's strength, and he knows he could do it too, but he also knows he wouldn't be able to continue on as Michonne does.
He's not sure if he respects her more for it or less. Survival has always been something that he's been good at, but the thought of leaving Carol, even for a second, is so repulsive that he immediately recoils.
Glenn looks a bit nauseous himself, "Michonne, I'm so sorry."
Michonne nods at his apology, "It's not your fault. Anyway, usually people always ask about the soulmate thing. People are curious, you know?"
"I was," Sasha confirms, half laughing and half embarrassed.
"It's normal," Michonne shrugs, "but I don't know why you asked me when you've got Maggie and Glenn and Daryl."
Daryl's heart stops for a moment, and out of the corner of his eye he can see the way Beth whips around to stare at him, and Carol stiffens almost imperceptibly. He doesn't know what to say or do, and he slowly raises his gaze to rest on Michonne, who seems unaware of what she's done.
Glenn is gaping at him, and Maggie looks resigned, and Daryl almost wants to thank her for actually keeping his secret. It's obvious Glenn didn't know.
"Dude, you had a soulmate? Did they die?" Glenn is shocked, and Daryl tells himself that's the reason that he would be so insensitive to ask that, but Daryl still uses the opportunity to stand up and shoot him his angriest look.
Michonne looks bewildered, and she glances at Carol as if to see where she made a mistake, but Carol is staring at the table. She looks so hurt that Daryl actually wants to die, and he knows that he should have told her but how in the hell was he supposed to say anything like this out loud?
"I — maybe I was mistaken, I didn't—" Michonne's voice is unsure, and Daryl walks away before she gets the chance to finish the sentence.
He finds himself in the furthest corner from the guard tower and plants himself against the shed that they store most of their gardening stuff in. There are a few walkers about, but they're mostly wandering around on the other side of the fence, probably drawn to Rick and Carl talking in the guard towers. The sun has just gone down and it's fairly dark, but it's a warm temperature and a nice night. Daryl wishes he could enjoy it. Hell, he wishes he had a smoke just for something to do with his shaking hands.
It doesn't take her long to find him, but in that time he's thought of a thousand ways to apologize and tell her the truth, but none of them really work in his brain, and he can't imagine actually saying them out loud.
Of course, because it's Carol she doesn't make him say anything. She leans against the old shed next to him and waits him out. Daryl thinks she'd wait all night if he needed her to, but he's tired of making her wait, and he's tired of causing her problems when he wishes he could shoulder them all.
"They're wrong, ya know," Daryl says, "she ain't dead." It wasn't what he meant to lead with, but it's been nagging him, the way Glenn had said 'you had a soulmate?' as if she was gone. Carol was right here, breathing and healthy, and Daryl refuses to even live in a world where someone thought she wasn't.
Carol's breath catches and he wants to bite his own tongue off because he doesn't know what to fucking say.
"I'm sorry—" Daryl rushes to spit out, "I wanted to tell ya. It's just… hard."
Carol turns to him and her eyes look damp and how in the fuck is Daryl supposed to fix this? "I get that, I do, but… I just thought—"
Daryl has never actually understood the term heartbreak before, but he gets it now because it feels like his heart is cracking inside his chest, and he's not sure if it's because she's his soulmate, or because he loves her — and fuck he loves her so much.
"It's you." He rushes out and then trips over his own words because Carol's eyes have narrowed on him, shocked and disbelieving.
"What?" Her voice is very quiet, and very even, and Daryl has only heard her like this before they go into battle.
"It's you," Daryl repeats, slower this time, "it's always been you. Since the — since the day at the barn. When I grabbed you to stop you."
Carol sinks a little deeper into the shed as if she needs help standing. "You felt it? The electricity they talk about?"
Daryl nods, "Like nothin' I ever felt before."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Her voice is so hurt, so hurt.
Daryl wrings his fingers, "I shoulda, I shoulda, but I knew you didn', I knew you didn' feel it, and I just couldn't." He breathes, "You weren't… ready, either."
It's unfair of him, to bring up how fragile she had been after Sophia, but it's also a damn good reason for keeping his mouth shut for some of the time.
Carol is silent for a long time and Daryl lets her have her time.
"Alright," she says finally, "I understand that. But, Daryl, since we've been here? Since we've been…" she lets herself trail off, a bit shaky, and Daryl hates that he's inspired this insecurity in her.
He turns to her, and meets her eyes, and summons every ounce of bravery he has. "Since we've been here I been an idiot, and you gotta know, even without all of this shit," he gestures between them as though she can suddenly see the electric bond that only he can feel, "it's you and I. I ain't tryin' to keep secrets from you, but somethin' this big… I didn't see how I could say it and keep you, especially since you don't…"
"I don't what?" her voice is angry.
Daryl swallows, "You don't feel it."
Carol's eyes are disbelieving and furious, and Daryl prefers her anger to her heartbreak, but he's still not sure how he's ever supposed to get back to the way she was looking at him this morning. He wonders if he'll ever wake up to her again, and he wants to die at the thought that he didn't pay enough attention this morning. What if he forgets a single detail?
"You think I don't feel anything because I don't have some stupid lightning strike soulmate bond?" Her voice is coiled tight, "You're telling me that I loved Sophia less than Rick loves Carl because she wasn't my soulmate?"
Daryl rears back because he was not expecting that at all. He knows Carol loved, loves, will love Sophia more than anyone else in this universe, and he knows that he cannot measure the difference between Rick and Carol's love for their respective children because it is endless. He doesn't know how to tell her this.
In the calmest voice he can muster he says, "I never said that. I ain't never said you don't feel things, Carol. All I said was I didn' know how to tell you that I had some 'stupid lightning strike soulmate bond' to you," he throws her own words back at her, and it's a dirty move, but it hurt to hear her say something like that, "and that you didn' have the same thing back for me."
He pushes off the shed and turns back to her, still leaning against the wood and watching him with blue eyes that he wants to bury himself in.
"You loved Sophia more than anythin', right?" Daryl says, "Now imagine that you had a secret so big that you were afraid she'd hate you over it. You figure it's better to have her and love her and never let her know the secret than tell her. Even if it means yer lying, even if it means it's not perfect. She's still yours."
Carol is staring at the ground, and it's obvious she's crying, and Daryl has never hated anything more than he hates this moment.
"I would do anythin' for you," Daryl says, because if he's going to lay his soul bare to her he might as well fucking get it over with, "and that won't change. Not because some stupid lightning strike told me to — not because you're my soulmate. Because I'm in love with ya."
He's started to walk away to give her space when he hears her peel herself off the wall.
"You don't think that this bond made you feel that way?" Carol's voice stops his moving.
Daryl thinks — he legitimately stops and thinks it over. He has wondered if he would have loved Carol before he knew she was his soulmate.
The answer is written in his bones, it's a part of his DNA, and it's not because of some stupid fucking bond, as she so aptly put it.
"No," Daryl says, sure. "Merle didn' love Andrea. Lori didn' love Shane. Herschel didn' love his soulmate, he loved Maggie's mom, who was his wife." Carol's breath skips on that one, and Daryl realizes that Maggie never told Carol that story.
"You're sure?" Her voice is small and scared, and Daryl almost wants her to go back to angry.
He turns again, because he can't walk away from her, not anymore, probably not ever. "I ain't never been more sure of anythin' in my life."
Carol stares him down and Daryl doesn't move a goddamn muscle. He's been trying to make himself worthy of her every second of every day since he knew her and he knows he's not there, but she can have all of it.
"I never wanted to feel it," Carol says, finally.
Daryl frowns, "the bond?"
Carol nods, "Maybe when I was young, before Ed. But then… well, everything happened. And I used to pray and pray that I would never feel the bond, never be trapped again. Never be forced to do anything, even love, again."
Daryl suddenly realizes why she's so angry and hurt. He wonders why he never thought of it before; but, it's hard to picture this bond as anything so horrible as she is describing to him. She thinks he didn't have a choice.
"I never really thought I'd feel it," he tells her, an olive branch in a night gone horribly, horribly wrong, "didn't expect to have a soulmate. Never expected to have you."
She steps towards him, bridging the endless gap that Daryl thought would never close. She's still too far, out of his reach, but he can see the freckles on her cheekbones, and it is enough.
"When did you know?"
Daryl frowns, "That day at the barn—"
She interrupts him, "No. Not that. When did you know you…" she can't force herself to say the next words, but Daryl has caught on.
"You 'member when I found you? In that storage closet when everyone thought you were dead?"
She nods. That was a long time ago. Daryl doesn't bother telling her that although he knew he loved her then, but he's pretty sure he's been in love with her since the moment he saw her. Before he ever touched her skin.
Daryl shrugs, "Since then."
Carol steps forward again, bringing herself into his reach, although he doesn't move. He can feel his heart about to beat out of his chest as if it wants to join hers.
"You know when you left on that supply run? When I was mad at you?" She says. Her voice is barely more than a whisper on the breeze.
Daryl nods, "Yeah. You thought I left you behind. I'd never."
Carol smiles, and it's small and fleeting, but she finally, finally meets his eyes. "Since then."
Daryl replays her words in his brain, trying to make sense of them. She looks scared and timid in a way he hasn't seen her since the farm, and he doesn't want to fuck this up.
"You…?"
She nods, "Yes."
He steps forward, bringing his chest close enough to brush against hers, close enough their noses could touch if he only bent down.
"You're sure?" He says, breathing the words more than speaking.
Finally, her eyes light up, warm and teasing, and she drawls out in a poor butchered attempt at his accent, "I ain't never been more sure of anythin' in my life, Daryl Dixon."
He kisses her, then.
Daryl never thought he'd be the one to kiss her first, but he does, just swoops down and presses his mouth against hers as if he's done it every day for his entire life.
And he does plan to do it every day for the rest of his life.
She raises on her tiptoes and threads her arms around his neck, and Daryl kisses her like his life depends on it, and maybe it does.
The lightning is throbbing under his skin, and Daryl wonders at how she can't feel that. Still, when he pulls away from her she is staring at him as though he's glowing, and he has a feeling he's doing the same thing to her.
"Everyone thinks you've run off because your soulmate is dead and that's why you're such an ass sometimes," Carol says, and he just lifts one arm to rest his thumb under her eye, sweeping it against the skin of her face. She closes her eyes at his touch, and Daryl doesn't even care that she called him an ass.
"You ain't dead!" Daryl says the only response that really matters.
Carol laughs, "I knew you didn't like it when Glenn said that."
Daryl rolls his eyes, "Glenn's an ass."
Carol grins at him, and he tightens his arms around her. She says, "I love you" like it's easier than breathing.
Daryl thinks that even if he lives to be a hundred he will never be able to get the sound of those words out of his head, and he never wants to. He has never heard anything so beautiful. He wants to breathe them in, and wake up to them.
"I love you," he says, because it's the truth, and Carol deserves every truth from him from now on.
The smirk she sends his way is pure wickedness and she winks, "I knew it was a good idea to get the big bed."
Daryl flushes and rolls his eyes, "stop."
Carol leans further into his body, "No, I don't think I will."
He can't help but kiss her then, and it's a long time before they make their way back to the quiet prison. Only Maggie is awake with Judith, and Daryl wonders if Maggie was brilliant enough to plan it that way. He's grateful, because she doesn't ask any questions, and Daryl nods at her as he passes.
He's going to get that woman any shit she wants for her baby, he owes her so much.
Carol pulls their cell door open and Daryl lifts the sheet up so she can come in after him. Carol doesn't hesitate to slide into her pajamas and hurry into their newly made double bed, and Daryl follows a bit slower.
She curls close to him as soon as he gets in, and he savours every second because it wasn't so long ago that he wondered if he fucked all of this up.
"I thought we wouldn' get back here," Daryl whispers into her hair.
Carol sniffs, "You said you'd always come back to me."
"Guess I did."
It's not perfect, but nothing really is in this world, anymore.
It's good though.
A/N: That's it! Thanks for sticking through this Walking Dead fic with me! I haven't written much for this fandom in a long time and I really loved this idea. Please review if you did too :)