Warning for in character homophobic language. Sorry that Merle is so…Merle-y.

DELETED SCENE: How To Want

Daryl was used to wanting things he couldn't have.

He remembered the first thing he'd ever wanted. It was a backpack. Bright red, not sunfaded or dusty the way all his hand-me-downs from Merle always were. The zippers pulled clean and smooth and they closed all the way without jamming, and it had three pockets, not two. One was a tiny, hidden pocket inside the body of the backpack, where his schoolbooks would cover it. He could put things in there, secret things, and nobody would even know he had them.

That way, he could take his things with him to school and nothing could happen to them while he was gone. And nobody else would know he had them, but he'd know. Like that impossibly bright blue feather he'd gotten from a jay. It fluttered down to him just as the bird took off, a wisp so light it nearly defied gravity as it slipped and lounged through the air. He watched it all the way down, the blue of the sky looking tired and washed out behind it.

Merle always said feathers carried mites and he should stop being such a girl and go get the whole bird, not one useless feather. But Daryl didn't care, and he'd never gotten mites from a feather. Probably because he never had the feathers that long before Merle broke them or stuck them all over his shirt, dancing around and squawking about how little Darlina wanted to grow up and be a stripper with a feathered bra.

The red backpack had belonged to Joel, who lived in the cabin next door, and Daryl wanted it so bad sometimes it filled up his whole head, from morning until nightfall. He couldn't remember how Merle found out: if he'd told him or if Merle'd just caught him watching the backpack, bobbing proudly on Joel's back when he got on and off the bus. Either way, Merle said red was for pussies and city boys and real men always went for camo, so you could slip through the forest and animals wouldn't see you coming.

But then, the next week, he beat up Joel and took the backpack. Kicked it into Daryl's room and said, "Here ya go, ya queer, if you like it so much."

Of course, then it was dusty, from his boot, and the zippers didn't pull as smoothly as they looked like they did when Joel had it. Worst of all, he couldn't take it to school, because then Joel would tattle on him for stealing and everybody already thought the dirty Dixon brothers were a buncha thieves. So he kept it tucked under his bed and only took it out after dark, when he'd slip into the forest. Which was almost as good, until Merle found the tarnished silver star necklace in the "secret" pocket. It came from their mom's dresser but the chain was broke and she was too drunk to notice it was gone anyhow. Still, having a girl necklace was queer enough that Merle gave him a good wailing for it even though Daryl had never intended to wear the thing. He just liked the shine of it.

So somehow, even after he got the backpack, he never really had it. And he never, never stopped wanting it.

That's why the thing with Carol wasn't no surprise.

It crept up on him slow, so that at first, he didn't realize he wanted anything at all. He just thought it would be good if he could find Sophia. It weren't like any of the other dumbasses in their group had a chance in hell, unless they just stumbled over her like a fallen log. There wasn't nothing else to do at the farm, and he hated the way Hershel eyed them from up on the porch. All o' them, squatting in the dirt of his yard like poor relations.

He didn't know how the hell Rick could live with himself, begging to stay someplace he weren't wanted. And he didn't know how everyone else could hang around the farm, chopping carrots or cleaning guns, when they all had ears and could hear Carol trying to cry quietly in the bushes, where she wouldn't bother anybody.

No, it was easier to be out in the woods. Feeling his legs strong underneath him, doing something he knew how to do. The woods were the one place he was never unwanted.

He didn't do it for Carol to smile at him. And once she had, he never really expected her to do it again. And then, one day, he did.

He got used to her smiling at him, first thing in the morning when she asked, "Sleep okay?" Like it made one damn snip of difference to her how he'd spent the dark hours. He got to where, it tugged at something in him when she chose to lay her blankets down closer to him than the others. And that day, that one crazy fucked up day when the farm burned…he brought her back to the group, and when they left, she got back on the bike with him instead of into any of the cars.

She was the only person in his whole life that had chosen him, even for something as small as a ride on his bike.

After that, the desire in him grew. Small, just a little perk of interest at first, like it had been with the backpack. An awareness that he liked looking at her. That the way her face fit together was a little better than everyone else's. The light in her eyes more interesting, those times when she smiled at him. He realized he wanted to keep looking.

But wanting something was a torment, like a backpack you could never afford. There was nobody to beat up to steal Carol from. And hell, he didn't have a big brother to do it anymore, anyway.

He wanted Carol, and her wanting him back wasn't even a possibility, so it was only a torment. One more deprivation he'd always have to bear, nothing new about it.

Daryl had always been poor. He had no idea how to have anything. All he knew was how to want.

Author's Note: We're headed out of canon land, folks. Everything after this is either sexier or weirder than what's on the show. Sometimes both. I'm having a great time, if you can't tell. I hope you guys are having fun, too. In the next chapter, Daryl makes an actual move on Carol. Almost. Kinda. Anyway, it was enough to make me proud of him.