A/N: I would really appreciate it if you guys checked out my Caryl oneshot I posted, To Dye For. It's kind of long but it's sweet and funny, so I think you'd like it. Only if you want to, though. I don't want to force reviews out of anyone D:
And although I don't really think it's that bad, I apologize for Merle in this chapter. I was trying to stay in character and we all know how offensive he can be. Also, Crime and Passion is (to my knowledge) not a real soap opera. I just made it up on the spot.
Reading time: 9-10 mins.
Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.
Chapter six: Soap Operas and Takeout~
"You actually watch this shit?" Daryl said incredulously, eyebrows pinched as he stared at the television.
After ordering Chinese takeout to put some food in Carol's stomach, the two engaged in a light conversation that somehow led to turning on the tv and watching a soap opera.
They sat in the same places as they had an hour ago - him on the recliner and her on the couch - while they ate and talked and watched...that.
Carol had been allowed to take her blindfold off a while ago - he wasn't quite sure himself why he had let it slide like that, but he was going to blame it on the great-tasting food sitting in his stomach - and she continued to eat from her little takeout box with a pair of chopsticks while he watched on, his brother's black bandana back over his face (he had eaten first, letting her regain her vision after he was done, so thus far his identity was still intact).
Carol smiled despite his negative outburst, and continued to stare at the screen while Fernando tried to win back the heart of Ellen while dodging Patricia who was running from Derrick...or some bullshit.
"I'll admit, it's pretty dumb," she said. "But it beats watching a golf tournament or C-Span. And besides, it's fun to see the ridiculous twists and turns the show makes before it gets cancelled."
Daryl scoffed. "Please. Ain't no man alive that would actually go through all that shit for some woman."
"I dunno," she said, tilting her head in thought. "I think it's kind of romantic."
She moved into a more cozy position, clutching the pillow that lay on the couch (their only pillow) and using it to set her takeout box on, unintentionally sending a wave of air in his direction.
She smelled like roses.
Daryl shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "What, so you want some kinda 'hero' or somethin'?"
She lowered her head, trying to hide a smile. "Yeah. Something like that."
He looked to the floor, feeling lower than the dirty carpet below his feet in that moment. "Oh."
A somewhat strained silence set in after that, but Carol opened her mouth again after about half a minute, determined to keep the conversation rolling.
"Um, so; do you have any favorite shows you like to watch?"
Once she looked away from the tv and saw the way he stared at her strange question, she blushed and looked away, fidgeting with her chopsticks.
"I'm sorry, that was a dumb question."
"No," he said, leaning forward in his chair. "'s fine. Uh...I like all sorts o' stuff. Don't really stay on one station."
"Ah," she said, raising her chin. "A channel surfer."
He smiled beneath his bandana. "Guess you could say so."
"So what's one of your favorites? Or do you have one considering you flip through channels so much?"
"I dunno...I like watchin' Foghorn Leghorn when it's on."
Her head turned in thought. "Isn't that a cartoon?"
He froze. Surely she'd make fun of him now if he was going to hack on her soap operas when he spent his days watching kid shows.
"Y...Yeah."
"Hm," she said, looking him over. "I never would have guessed."
Carol turned back to the television, and Daryl let go of a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, thankful that she didn't make a snarky joke or rude comment like his brother surely would have if he were present.
He turned his attention back to the tv as well, not quite able to shake the feeling that there was so much more to the woman in front of him than one would suppose, as he watched Fernando kiss Ellen tenderly on the screen.
It was nearly three hours (and two episodes) later when things started to get a little hairy.
Daryl and Carol were watching on intently as Fernando and Ellen's short reunion was halted by his dark past and her brother-in-law, George, when the front door to the apartment unceremoniously burst open and Merle's voice rang out from the short hallway behind them by the kitchen.
"Hey, little brother! You do the deed yet? I got takeout! Man, them Asians may be stiff, but they sure make good noodles!"
Daryl leapt from the recliner, bounding across the distance to the door and shoving Merle back just in time before Carol could see his face.
He pushed him back against the door, elbow digging into the older man's throat, as he hissed, "Man, what the hell's wrong with you? She coulda seen yer face!"
Merle held his hands up, a bag in his hand and a grin on his face, as he replied, "Well excuse me, but I wasn't aware we were givin' special privileges to the hostage...you do 'er yet?"
Daryl pressed his arm tighter against his throat. "Shut up, Merle! I didn't do nothin'."
His brother scrunched his nearly nonexistent eyebrows together, pushing his arm off of his neck and giving him a look.
"Well don't that beat all," he said, shaking his head. "I go through all the trouble o' gettin' her and bringin' her here, and you're still not man enough to-"
"Hey, I didn't ask fer nothin'," Daryl spat, keeping his voice low. "And she sure as hell don't deserve this anyway."
"Oh-ho-kay, then," Merle said, amused. "Next time you need help I'll be sure to withhold my services."
He scoffed. "Yeah, you do that."
The two men simultaneously let out a forced breath, somewhat of a sigh but not quite, and Merle half-heartedly held up the bag in his hand.
"Hungry?" he asked.
Daryl looked to the bag, then back at him, anger dissipating as he rolled his eyes and said, "I already ate."
Merle smiled. "Good. Can't have ya starvin' now, can I? Now gimme my mask and get the hell outta my chair."
"Yeah, yeah."
The rest of the night went by smoothly (well, as smoothly as it could have possibly gone with Merle there) and after another hour of listening to his older brother eat sloppily and make endless comments about how soap operas were 'gay' and only 'lonely housewives' watched them, the television was turned off and Carol was blindfolded again.
Merle retreated into the bedroom, still laughing over the episode of 'Crime and Passion', leaving Daryl alone with a sightless Carol.
He reached over and nudged her hand. "You ready?" he asked, unhappy with the thought of shutting her in the closet for a whole night again.
She chuckled nervously. "Not really, but, you know...can- can I use the bathroom again before I go?"
He sat up, eager to oblige. "Uh, yeah, sure. Here."
Daryl stood up from the couch, taking her hand and guiding her to stand with him as he began to lead her to the bathroom once more.
Two minutes later, he sat crouched in the doorway of the living room closet, fastening new strips of duct tape around Carol's wrists and ankles.
"Sorry," he said, feeling every bit as apologetic as he sounded.
She smiled. "I know."
Daryl gave a lopsided smile, even though she couldn't see it, and he scooted away to stand up, stopping when her arms went out to rest blindly on his chest.
"Good night," she said, tone hopeful.
He sat against the door frame, frozen as his mouth refused to open properly.
He'd never said good night to someone before, not even to Merle (he'd beat him up if he tried) so needless to say it was kind of a big deal for him to say it back. It was like saying 'thank you' when you were used to just taking everything you wanted from day one - you just didn't do it. Sure, it wasn't that big of a deal - she was only being nice to him, after all - but it didn't make it any less difficult for him to get the words out.
"...G'night," he replied, voice straining a bit as he forced the sound from his mouth.
Carol exhaled and smiled softly at him (well, in his general direction) and let her hands fall back down to her lap as he moved to stand.
Daryl stepped back and softly shut the door, clicking the latch and letting go of the handle.
"Sweet dreams," he mumbled softly.
He turned off the lights and headed over to the couch, getting out a blanket and laying down.
After a while (he wasn't sure how long) his eyes grew heavy and he fell sleep to the sounds of emergency sirens and screeching tires, and the faint smell of roses on his pillow.
A/N: Can't say when I'll update again, but I'll aim for later this week.
In the meantime, I'd love to read your thoughts! Your beautiful, lovely, sweet thoughts from your pretty, gorgeous, perfect little heads! :D
'Til next time!