A/N: Thanks for all the views, favorites and follows, they mean a ton :)
Axelrocks: Eeee! I gotta say, my face really lit up when I saw your review. Seriously, I feel like a celebrity has reviewed my story X3 I LOVE All Angel, No Wings, and to have you review is just awesome XD
wildcow258: Thanks a ton! I'm glad you find the concept as interesting as I did! :D
Twdcaryl: Thank you! I'm glad you like it so far! :D
Oh, and just so you know: till is slang for cash register.
Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.
Chapter two: Second Meeting~
The $323 they had stolen from the gas station went by pretty fast.
Merle had used $150 to pay the rent for their shitty apartment so they could have a place to crash for another month, $28 on shaving cream, razors, and toilet paper, $75 on beer and takeout, and Daryl had spent $63 on a couple shirts and a new pair of pants.
That left them with $7.
Daryl lay on the couch of their rundown apartment, idly flipping through the channels on their antenna tv. Merle sat sprawled lazily in a chair to his right, staring into the ceiling, bored. It was Wednesday morning, just over a week after they had pulled the heist, and already they were hurting for cash.
Daryl exhaled, frustrated, as he stopped at a cartoon channel.
It made him so angry, sometimes, when he thought about their situation. They'd steal just to get by, saying it was 'only temporary' or 'just for the month' and that they'd get jobs and do something with their lives, when not two weeks later they'd be out doing the same thing. Just one shitty place after the next. Nothing changed.
Nothing was getting better, and it wasn't going to. But he'd never say that to Merle. He'd just slap him upside the head and tell him to get his facts straight or some other bullshit like that. He loved his brother, but sometimes (a lot, lately) he was full of shit.
Merle sighed from his place on the recliner, turning his head to stare uninterestedly at the television. "Well, what do you reckon, little brother? What're we gonna do now that we've spent every penny from our last haul?"
Daryl said nothing for a moment, just chewed his thumbnail and switched the channel. "I dunno...maybe rob another gas station?"
His older brother lifted a beer bottle to his lips, taking a generous swig before replying. "That don't sound like a bad idea, considerin' how well we did the last time. Got any place in mind?"
Daryl's eyes shifted from the tv to Merle, trying not to look too hopeful.
If he was being completely honest with himself, there hadn't been a day gone by since their last robbery where he didn't think about Carol. It was stupid, he knew, and childish and immature. He would never in a million years be able to make her look his way if he wasn't holding a gun to her head - she was way out of his league, he knew that - but it didn't stop him from trying. From hoping.
He briefly cleared his throat before going through with his suggestion. "Well, what about that place we robbed last week? That was good money."
Merle seemed to consider the idea. "Hmm...we've never hit the same place twice...I like the way you think, little brother. Outside the box and all that. I like it."
He grinned at him, and Daryl smiled in return.
"We'll hit it tonight. Poor bastards'll never see it comin'. Haha!"
Merle took another swig of his bottle, and Daryl looked back to the tv. They were going back to the gas station. Tonight. They were going to get more cash...
He was going to see Carol again.
They parked at one of the gas pumps and walked into the station, just like before, only this time, only one worker was there.
Daryl's eyes scanned the aisles, searching for Carol.
She wasn't behind the counter, like before, only that blonde woman (Andrea? Was that her name?). There was no one else around. Where was she?
Merle walked up to the counter, bandana up over his face, gun concealed in his jacket, as Daryl slowly followed and continued to search for the woman he was looking for, disappointment sinking in the pit of his stomach.
"Can I help you?" Andrea asked boredly, not looking up from the book she had on the counter.
Merle smiled beneath his mask and pulled out his gun. "Yeah. You can do us for all the money in the till."
Andrea froze, slowly looking up from her book to meet his eyes, her own widening considerably.
"Well, don't just stand there, gorgeous," he said, pointing to the register with his gun. "Give us the cash!"
She jumped at his raise in voice, and immediately her hands darted for the cash register. Daryl observed her as she opened it up and gathered the money with shaking, unsure hands - not at all like Carol's.
After a few seconds, Andrea had taken all the cash out of the register and laid it out on the counter for Merle to take. Daryl stepped forward and pushed it all off of the counter and into the bag he held, zipping it up and moving to leave.
Merle caught his shoulder. "Woah, woah, hold up, man." He turned to the blonde, eyes wrinkling with the smirk hidden beneath his mask. "Take us to the back."
"The back?" Daryl echoed.
"Yeah, the back," Merle said, still staring at the trembling woman. "Come on, now, I know you've got a safe. Let's go. Come on."
He tilted his gun to the side, signaling for her to move, and Andrea obeyed, hands up, looking just as terrified if not more so than she had when they'd been there last week.
"Lead the way, little lady."
Daryl could hear the smirk in his brother's voice.
Andrea led them to the back of the gas station, past the restrooms and into the employee section.
She stopped just outside the door leading to the break room, seeming to have no intention of letting them inside.
"Well?" Merle said, nudging her back with the barrel of his gun. "Open the door, Blondie. We got a safe ta open!"
It took her a moment, but Andrea inevitably moved to open the door. She unlocked it with the employee's key hanging around her neck and cracked the door open.
"...Guys?" she asked, looking back at Daryl and Merle. She looked like she was going to cry. "U-uhm...d-don't panic, okay?"
Averting her eyes from them, she slowly pushed the door open and went inside, Merle prodding her along with his gun. Once they were inside, Daryl snatched the key off of Andrea's neck and shut the door.
His heart was pounding in his ears.
They had never done something this big before. Merle must have been desperate, or out of his mind. Or both. Clenching the key with sweaty hands, Daryl shoved it into his pocket and turned around, scanning the room.
It was small; plain white walls, a table with a few chairs, a mini fridge in the corner, and a safe on the far end. Aside from Andrea, he noticed two others standing to the side, hands above their heads. One of them was a man, the black guy from before (What was his name? J-Dog? R-Dog?) and the other, a woman.
Daryl's breath hitched beneath his mask.
It was Carol.
"Alright, now this is how it's gonna go," Merle said easily, carelessly flailing his gun around. "You're gonna tell me the combination to this here safe, I'm gonna open it up, and he's gonna keep watch over y'all." He nudged Daryl in the shoulder, causing everyone's eyes to fall on him, but he only looked at one. Carol.
"Now, which one of y'all knows the combination?" Merle asked, waiting for one of them to speak up.
Carol's mouth twitched, and eventually, she opened her mouth to speak. "It's 21-23-52," she said, giving Merle a hard glare.
Daryl stared at her lips, watching as they moved. Even her voice was beautiful. It was damned ridiculous. Carol's eyes swept back to his, and he immediately looked away, focusing instead on the floor just below their feet. He had never been so glad to have that damned bandana over his face.
"Well, my hat tips to you, Beautiful," Merle said, tipping an invisible hat. He walked over to the safe, inspecting it, before turning around and addressing Carol again. "Say...what's your name, woman?"
"It's Carol," she replied, looking at the floor. She sounded annoyed for someone who was being held hostage.
Merle, however, didn't seem to take notice. "Well, Carol...I might be seein' you again later...Come to think of it, I may have seen you somewhere before. Have I seen you before?"
"Yes, that's why I don't go there anymore," she replied curtly, still not looking at him.
He laughed. "Hahaha! Girl's got a mouth on 'er, don't she? I like that in a woman."
He stepped forward past Daryl, and Daryl wanted to tell him to stop messing around, to just get the money and go, but he bit his tongue.
He watched, silent, as Merle raised a hand to touch Carol's hair. She swiftly moved her head away, as though trying to dodge a gnat or fly, and his hand missed, instead touching nothing but air. Merle smirked beneath his bandana, brushing his fingers against her cheek before dropping his hand and walking back over to the safe.
Daryl let out a breath, glad that he'd stopped. A woman as pretty and dignified as Carol didn't deserve to be fondled, let alone by the likes of his brother. But then again, she didn't deserve to be held hostage, either.
He dropped the duffel bag that held the money from the register to the floor, swallowing nervously as he kept his gun trained on the three employees. His eyes drifted over to Carol. He tried not to stare, but he couldn't help it. She was just so damned beautiful. He just hoped it wasn't obviou-
Carol's eyes darted over to his, looking at him with a strength and determination that startled him.
His gun visibly faltered, and he struggled to keep it steady under her gaze. He wanted to avert his eyes, embarrassed at being caught, but at the same time, he couldn't look away. And then the craziest thing happened.
She smiled at him.
It was as if they were communicating with nothing but looks, and in that moment, they understood each other. And nothing else existed but the two of them.
"Ha! Got it!"
And Merle.
"Alright, get the bag over here and grab this here cash!"
Daryl reluctantly broke his gaze away from Carol's and went to join his brother, snatching the duffel bag off the floor and unzipping it. He kept it open while Merle shoved the money into the bag, ignoring the little voice in the back of his mind telling him he was doing something wrong. Unfortunately for him, he should have listened.
"AARRGH!"
Without warning, a pair of large arms wrapped around Merle's neck and tightened, choking him.
Daryl jumped back, his gun skidding across the floor as his gaze shot to his brother's attacker.
It was T-Dog.
Without thinking, Daryl hurled himself at the man, sending them all sprawling to the floor.
He managed to wrap an arm around his neck, but it only made him squeeze Merle's own neck tighter. Someone screamed in the background, probably Andrea, but Daryl paid it no mind as he began to beat T-Dog with his fists. He punched him repeatedly in the ribs, the kidneys, and eventually he loosened his hold enough for Merle to wriggle free.
Daryl relaxed his hold on the man's neck and stopped hitting him as he saw his brother was fine, but all that managed to do was let the guy roll over and start beating on him. The guy had a pretty strong punch, he'd give him that.
T-Dog had only thrown a precious few punches before he was grabbed by the shoulder and spun around by Merle, his jaw quickly becoming acquainted with the older man's fist. T-Dog was sent sprawling backwards, landing slightly on top of Daryl, out cold.
With some difficulty, he managed to push the unconscious man off of him and stand up, straightening his bandana around his face, eyes wide, heart racing. He looked up; Merle was already at the door, duffel bag in hand.
"Come on, let's go!" he shouted, gesturing towards him with his free hand.
Daryl looked back to T-Dog, then over at Carol.
She held Andrea in her arms, who was crying, staring with wide eyes at her coworker's motionless body. She was breathing heavily, and her eyes slowly swept up to his. Their eyes met only for a brief second, but it was enough to make him feel terrible.
"Come on, let's GO!" Merle hissed, frantic.
Tearing his gaze away from the woman, Daryl turned on his heel and followed Merle out the door, his own panic causing him to move at a much faster rate than what was normal for such a simple job.
They ran like their lives depended on it.
The two brothers darted through the gas station, weaving between aisles and dodging the cameras, when halfway out the store, Daryl stopped, a sudden wave of emergency slamming into him, ultimately causing Merle to do the same.
"What the hell're you doin'? We gotta get outta here!" He yelled, ushering him forward.
Daryl quickly searched the pockets of his jacket, panic rising within him. It wasn't there. It wasn't there, it wasn't there-
"I left my gun back there!" He said, frantic.
Merle cursed. "Shit! Well, hurry up, we can't leave any evidence! Go!"
Daryl turned and darted in the opposite direction, heading back to the safe room.
Andrea screamed in fear when he reappeared, and Carol moved to stand protectively in front of her while his eyes swept the floor in search of his weapon, doing a full 360.
It wasn't there.
It wasn't anywhere.
Where was it?!
A click sounded beside him, and Daryl slowly turned to face the noise.
It was Carol.
Carol was holding his gun.
And it was pointed at him.
Daryl's breath caught in his throat, fear seizing him as he froze, eyes locked onto the barrel of the gun.
He swallowed, feeling a drop of sweat glide down his forehead. He could only pray she wouldn't pull the trigger. But judging from the look on her face, those chances were slim.
He slowly backed away, holding his hands up, and Carol moved forward, keeping Andrea behind her as she stared him down.
This was it. He was going to die at the hands of the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on, and with his own gun, nonetheless. He was going to die, and Merle would go to jail, probably prison, and live out the rest of his life behind bars. And all at the hands of this woman.
But then something happened, a miracle.
Her grip on the gun loosened, and, with a look of finality, she lowered the weapon.
Daryl stared at her disbelievingly, unable to comprehend what was happening.
"...Go," she said.
And he did.
Merle's head snapped up, spotting his brother running toward him.
He immediately noticed that he wasn't holding a gun. "What the- where the hell's your gun?!"
"Forget it, let's just get outta here!"
Merle didn't argue, and he held the door open as Daryl made his exit, following closely behind him.
As they hopped in the car and sped away, Daryl's mind couldn't stop wandering back to what had happened.
Merle started to chew him out for leaving his gun at a crime scene, but the words fell on deaf ears as he recovered from the initial shock of having left the gas station at all.
She had let him go.
Just like that.
Sure, she would probably call the police now and track them down using the fingerprints off his weapon, but still, she hadn't killed him. And even now, as they sped towards their home with nothing but a bag full of cash and their lives intact, it was good enough for him. He didn't know what they were going to do once they got back to their apartment, or how they were going to spend the cash or hide from the cops, but one thought rang true;
It was good enough for now.
A/N: I hope this is a satisfying direction to take the story, it took me a while to think of it.
I've got another chapter already written, which has significantly more Caryl in it, so I mostly know where I'm going with it now.
In the meantime, reviews and thoughts are welcome :)
'Til next time!