AN: Here we go, another chapter here.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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Daryl took his time strolling around Alexandria. He waved at a few people and spoke to a few others. He made his way down to the area inside their new expansion where the training sessions went on and he quickly found Michonne as she sat sipping on a bottle of water.
"Don't look like you're doing much," Daryl commented.
Michonne's head jerked in his direction, ready to go on the defense, and then she smiled at him. She smiled a great deal more these days than she ever had when they'd first come to know her.
"You're not too busy either, Dixon," she commented back. "Break time."
"Carol?" Daryl asked, glancing around.
Michonne nodded at him.
"She stopped for the evening," Michonne said. "Went home to get your dinner ready."
Daryl thanked Michonne for the information and left, heading back in the direction of his home. Even in the days right before Maison came, Carol was out there almost until the sun set. Daryl often had to tell her it was time to go home. They had to eat and she had to rest. Even when she couldn't be physically involved in the training, Carol was out there coaching everyone on the mental aspects of what they had to do—of what this world demanded of them.
This world, after all, required more than brute strength to simply keep going.
He wasn't going to hold it against her, though, if she wasn't entirely "on" just yet. Neither was he. It was easy to get distracted and it was easy to think that you just wanted to step away, even for a moment, from people that you felt somewhat disconnected from. They may understand, in some way, what you were going through, but it wasn't their reality for the moment.
And Daryl knew that there was a lot that was crashing down on Carol right now—a lot that she hadn't let herself feel the way that she'd instructed Daryl he must do.
Carol wasn't hard to find when Daryl came through the door of the house that they called home. The smell of food greeted him—some casserole or another that she had in the oven—and Carol's smile greeted him immediately afterward when she came from the staircase with a dusting rag in her hand. Every day she seemed to find something to wipe down. Daryl lived in the cleanest house in the community.
Carol came straight to him and offered her lips to him in expectation of a kiss. It was a kiss that she was immediately granted with more enthusiasm than she even requested.
"Good day training?" Daryl asked when they pulled apart.
"As good as it can be," Carol said. "The new recruits are really good, actually. I don't think they need much help. Their form could be better. But we're going to work on formation."
"Most effective," Daryl said. "At least for when you've got to get through a crowd."
Carol nodded and Daryl smiled to himself. They could talk "shop" all day long if they wanted, but most of the time it was just a way to avoid talking about what was on their minds. Sometimes they dragged it out longer than other times, but in the end they always ended up getting around to the meat of things.
"You didn't want to stay out longer?" Daryl asked. Carol frowned at him, but she didn't respond. She turned, instead, like she might go about cleaning something or checking the casserole. Daryl caught her shoulder to stop her escape and she froze in her spot for a moment. He didn't have to do anything but stand there, his hand on her shoulder, and wait her out for a moment before she finally spoke.
"Maggie brought Hershel by," Carol said. Daryl hummed. He understood. Even without her having to say more, he understood. The presence of the baby upset Carol. She felt guilty for that, but it still happened. The best way to handle it, or so it seemed that she'd decided it was the best way, was for her to simply leave the area. Daryl waited her out a moment more and she rewarded him with continuing to put her thoughts into words. "It's not that I—it's not—I'm happy for them, Daryl," Carol said. "I am. I'm happy for them that Hershel is so..."
"But it just ain't easy," Daryl offered. Carol shook her head, her back still to him for the moment.
"My mind doesn't think it's easy," Carol said. "But my body doesn't think it's easy either. It's like—I respond to him. I hear him getting upset about something and I just..."
Carol broke off and shook her head. She turned then and Daryl moved his hand to allow her freedom of movement. Carol faced him and he could see her grief on her face. "I started leaking just because he was crying," she said. She shrugged. "I just couldn't stay out there, so I didn't."
Daryl responded to her by shaking his head at her.
"And you don't gotta," Daryl said. "One day? Maybe it won't be so bad. But—we ain't even cleaned out Maison's room. We ain't—moved his crib to the other room. Nobody's lookin' at you and expecting that it don't bother you no more. They don't expect that of neither one of us. And—I don't expect it of you neither."
Carol visibly swallowed. It almost looked like it pained her to do it. She nodded, accepting that she was allowed to feel whatever it was that she was finally starting to let herself feel. The only problem, in Daryl's opinion, was that he sometimes thought that Carol had forced herself to push everything back for a long time and now, little by little, it was all coming in together. It was too much for her sometimes. It looked heavy on her shoulders. And even though he could be there for her, there was nothing he could really do to take that weight off of her.
"Maggie and Glenn understand," Daryl offered. Carol nodded at that. "You don't gotta choke it back," Daryl offered softly. "No shame if you wanna—you know—cry about it."
She shook her head, but she did leave him there, in a hurry, while she excused herself to their bedroom. Daryl didn't follow her. Sometimes she wanted him to come with her. Other times she didn't. If she'd wanted him then she would've let him know. He was fine with giving her the space that she needed when it was something that she let him know that she desired.
While Carol was gone, getting control of herself in the quiet of the bedroom, Daryl went and checked the casserole in the oven. He wasn't sure if it was done or not, but he could at least make sure that it didn't look like it was burning. Then, for good measure, he washed a dish that was in the sink and put it to dry so that Carol would have one less to wash later. Then he made himself a glass of the iced tea that she made as a special treat for him to cool off with and he leaned against their marble countertop to drink it. Daryl never would have imagined that he'd ever live in a house with marble countertops.
But this life had already put him in more unimaginable situations than he could count. He sometimes wondered what Merle would think, if he were here, to see the life that they were building.
When Carol returned, she took the casserole out of the oven. Daryl asked her quietly if she was OK and she confirmed it with the same low volume that he'd used. She began dishing out the food before the steam had even slowed its rolling out of the dish and she handed Daryl a plate as soon as she was done spooning it out. He accepted it and got forks for them both, holding them up to show her that he'd gotten one for her. And then, together, they sat down at their oversized table to eat the steaming food.
Daryl blew on the food and carefully took a bite because he could tell that it was still scalding. He immediately praised the dish and Carol thanked him politely from across the table. He ate, in silence, until she let him know that she was ready to start talking again.
"You talked to Aaron?" Carol asked. Daryl hummed his confirmation while he finished with the bite of food that he was working on. "You're going on the run?" Carol pressed. Daryl hummed again.
"Two days out," he said. "Three tops. You sure you want me to go? They don't really need me out there. I could wait it out for the next one."
"What for?" Carol asked. Daryl stared at her and Carol furrowed her brow at him. "I'm fine," she said, as though she could read his mind. "I'm—I'm maybe a little more emotional than I'd like to be, but I'm fine."
"It ain't been a month," Daryl offered. Carol almost looked mad at him. She did everything a little differently when she was frustrated. She even, in this case, chewed differently.
"Not going on the run won't bring Maison back," Carol said. She shook her head at him. "Not going on the run won't. Not training won't. Not moving on? None of it will..."
Daryl nodded when she stopped speaking. There was no need to continue in the vein she was going in at the moment. He understood perfectly well what she was saying without all the details.
"I was just saying I don't gotta go," Daryl said. "But if you really want me to..."
"I think that we both need to get back to something normal in our lives," Carol said. "And for you? You love those runs. You love being out there. And I..."
"You're gonna train with Michonne," Daryl offered. Carol nodded more emphatically than before.
"I'm going to train with Michonne," Carol confirmed.
Daryl turned his attention to his food. The casserole was pretty good, but he couldn't really focus on it. He hadn't focused on the taste of food in a while. It was one of the things that he'd noticed since Maison had died. They could both pretend to put on a happy face and both of them could go on with their lives—because that's what they were supposed to do in this world—but there were things that they just couldn't control. For Daryl, one of those things was that he didn't really enjoy the taste of food as much as he remembered. It was as though he could taste it, but the flavors weren't really that present on his tongue. Something always seemed to be on his mind that was blocking the taste. Still, no matter what, he complemented Carol on the meals because it seemed to be important to her to know that she was preparing something that he liked eating. He didn't have the heart to tell her that these days he'd be just as satisfied to eat those fake mashed potatoes for every meal because he was simply eating as part of his routine.
"Anything you want me to look for?" Daryl asked.
Carol stared at him like she was thinking and then she shook her head.
"What are you going after?" She asked. "Food run or other supplies?"
Daryl shrugged and shook his head.
"Neither, really," he said. "Scouting this time. Probably riding out in the direction of Hamilton. Jesus said there was some signs of camps out there. Aaron probably wants to scout to see if there's anybody out there worth bringing in."
"Here or Hilltop?" Carol asked.
"Choice is theirs," Daryl said. "Like always. Last group went to Hilltop, though. Wouldn't hurt to get a few more people coming in here."
Carol hummed, but she was distracted. It was natural. They were talking "shop" again. She mused over the comment far longer than she needed to, pushed some of the food around on her plate before she tasted a little of it out of habit, and then she spoke again.
"If you're not looking for anything, then there's no reason to request anything," she said. Daryl hummed. That much was true. He wouldn't be too likely to come across anything that Carol wanted. There hadn't been too much that she'd requested anyway, even when she'd been getting ready for the baby. The only thing she'd asked him to find—and he'd had to drag Michonne along with him to find it in the first place—was a breast pump that she still used when she complained that things got too uncomfortable for her liking. Daryl had brought her back one or two things on his own, hoping she'd think they were just nice, but mostly she made comments about how she didn't need too much these days and how, really, some of the things she used to think she needed were just silly.
Things seemed even sillier at the moment.
"If I see something," Daryl offered, "might bring it back for you just because. Little present or something."
Carol shook her head.
"Don't go through any trouble," she said. "I'd rather you be careful and come back than bring me anything."
"Just the same," Daryl responded, dropping his voice a level.
He watched her push the food around on her plate. She hadn't said anything about it, but maybe she was tasting food much the way that he was these days. She ate enough to get by, and enough not to lose her strength, but there was a little something missing from it for the time being.
"You ain't hungry?" Daryl asked. She shook her head gently to confirm that she wasn't. Daryl cleared his throat. "Put this away for tomorrow?" He asked. "Go to bed?"
"Start again tomorrow?" Carol asked. She gave him a hint of a smile. Those were rare these days, but Daryl would take any of them that he could get. He knew, right now, how much they were worth.
"Pretty much the idea of it," he confirmed.
"Just so you know, I'm not in the mood for anything," Carol said. "I'm not sure I can. Not tonight." Daryl shook his head at her.
"Wasn't proposing anything besides sleepin' beside me," Daryl said. "Last I checked, you could do that just fine. What'cha say? Go to bed?"
Carol's confirmation came in another of the slight smiles and the pushing away of her chair from the table. Daryl followed suit and gathered up their plates to take them to the kitchen so that he could help her put the casserole away that would, more than likely, feed them both until he left for the run.