It hadn't been his intention to stare. But every so often, Daryl would have to remind himself that there were other things to look at than the man in the drivers seat beside him. He fidgeted with the hem of his uniform sleeve, trying his best not to look like an awkward teenager with a crush. The drive from the airport wasn't exactly lengthy but after Carl had exhausted himself out, chattering Daryl's ear off for the first half of the ride, he slipped into a comfortable snooze. Now it was just he and Rick, sitting in partial silence as few words were passed between them.
Occasionally his eyes would wander, the feel of another's gaze upon him, to find Rick side glancing him before returning his lake-blue eyes back to the road. Daryl wanted to start a conversation beyond small talk but each time found his lips to be too dry and mind too void. It wasn't until they entered Kings County that Rick cleared his throat, "Hey Carl, bud, we're home."
Daryl glanced back in time to see the kid stir, lazily wiping the sleep from his eyes as he engaged the familiar surroundings.
Kings County wasn't much, a dry town dressed in a moderate fashion. It was more than his own hometown, however. They had already driven by two gas stations which is more than his childhood memory could say. It was certainly cleaner too, no boarded up houses or overgrown weeds littering the cracked and morphed sidewalks. It was a quaint little place to raise a family, Daryl decided.
They arrived rather quickly, winding shortly through the quiet neighborhood away from the downtown area. Daryl admired the simplicity of the road, recognizing the street sign after writing it out himself so many times on dingy envelope paper. The street was lined with tall oak trees which he predicted would look stunning in the fall time. The various yards were well trimmed and maintained, children playing in the streets and pedestrians milling about, walking their dogs or simply enjoying the beautiful summers day. Daryl couldn't help but smile. This was the kind of place he had always dreamed of living. Far away from the dirty and dank trailer park he had been raised in, a quiet and nice place to settle down if he ever desired to.
Rick waved to a neighbor before pulling into the driveway of a small tan two story house. There was no fence encasing the yard, only a rickety looking porch and a bed of flowers lining the walkway. The buds were in full bloom, a variety of colors and sizes that reminded him of the flowers his mother used to pick. It was with a moments hesitation that Daryl realized the car had already been shut off and Carl was waiting for him in the driveway. He pulled his gaze from the scenery to see if he was the only one left still sitting in the car, a twinge of embarrassment consuming him. His eyes were met however, by Rick's. The man had unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the driver side door but he was still seated, watching Daryl admire his home with a wide smile that reached his eyes. Daryl cleared his throat, trying to defuse the silence, "uh, nice place ya' got here."
He feared the words hadn't truly left his mouth like he thought they had as Rick kept silent, smile still in place. After a long silence, only filled with Daryl taking longer than it should have to get his seatbelt off as to avoid Rick's gaze, he chuckled. It were as if the man had been in some sort of daze, the same way he had been caught doing, "Wait until ya' see the inside."
The two finally exited the vehicle, tentative steps as Carl ushered them inside with the promise of giving Daryl the 'grand tour'. It certainly wasn't much. But again, it was more than Daryl had ever had in his life. The first floor consisted of a wide living room/dining room that led to the kitchen, a small bathroom tucked into the corner. The upstairs held 2 sizable bedrooms down a petite hallway, a second bathroom connected to the master bedroom which he guest was Ricks. The walls were a warm chocolate color, smooth and welcoming, the floors a lighter tan that sectioned off at the bathrooms and kitchen where hardwood floors had been installed. Daryl felt at home here, easily imagining himself picking this as choice of residence, if he ever bought a house. It was strange, the way he sat on the couch around a coffee table so comfortably with a man and child he had only met hours ago.
"So that's the place, make yourself at home, Daryl." Rick leaned back in the cushions, kicking off his shoes.
"Thanks. It really 's a nice place. Nice f'r rassin' a family."
Rick smiled, "Yah, I always thought so. Carl's mother would disagree though. Always preferred it a little bit more moderate."
Daryl shook his head, "It's perfect."
Carl looked up from his seat on the floor at this, "I like it better here too. Mom's new place has marble floors and it's always too cold on my feet in the morning."
Rick chuckled at that, "Yah, I bet. Don't worry though. You'll get used to it, bud. Won't even notice before long."
Carl half-grinned and shrugged before Rick continued, "So Daryl, I bet you're dying to get out of that uniform. You can use the shower if you'd like."
Daryl's ears perked up. It had been a long time since he'd had a good warm shower, the ones at the camp in Italy always running out of hot water by the time he got there. Rick also wasn't wrong about the uniform, he'd been confined to it all day, sweating profoundly in the Georgia weather. "Tha' sounds great actually."
The soldier stood to return to his bag, digging through it quickly for something comfortable to wear. As he did, Rick stood as well, "Think I'll get dinner started too. Carl, wanna help? Give Daryl a breather?"
The kid produced an odd smile that resembled a grimace, as if he had been trying so hard to look like he didn't want to leave Daryl's side, "Sure, Dad."
"Beef Stroganoff sound good? I was originally thinking spaghetti but then I figured you were sick of Italian food, Daryl."
He couldn't help but laugh at that as he nodded, he will admit, it would be nice to have something not drowned in olive oil and cheese.
The three departed the living room, Daryl finding his way back to the downstairs bathroom. As soon as he stepped under the hot spray he was immediately grateful. He couldn't help the loud groan that escaped him as the downpour worked on his sore muscles, kneeing out the tension from jet-lag. All though he figured he could happily spend all night under the developing steam, he kept the experience short.
Not wanting to be rude and keep Rick and Carl waiting, he scrubbed his body with product from his travel bag. After shutting off the spray he dried himself with a towel hanging on the rack, appreciating the soft texture. Dressing halfheartedly, Daryl returned to the living room to store away his uniform, glancing at the framed photos scattered across the mantle. He took a moment to examine each one: a small child, he guessed to be a younger Carl, playing with a toy. A recent photo of Rick and Carl beside an older looking one of an elderly couple. At the end there was a picture of four police officers standing at attention and he had to double take to realize at one of them was a younger looking Rick. So Rick was a cop.
He turned at the sound of clatter I coming from the kitchen, venturing that way as to not feel snoopish in a house that wasn't his. He smiled at the sight that greeted him. Rick stood at the stove with his back turned, one leg propped up on the other in a comfortable fashion as he stirred something in a pan. Carl was reaching up over the countertop, using a small knife to cut some vegetables. It brought a smile to his face, an incomplete family doing such a simple task, reminding him of the few times he had helped his mother in the kitchen at dinner time. Daryl made sure to scuffle his feet on the hardwood floor as to alert the pair of his presence. It worked, he noticed, as Rick looked over his shoulder with a smile, examining his pedestrian wear.
Dinner was amazing. The best he had ever had. And not just because of the inticing taste of the food. It had been a long time since he had had such welcoming company. Before he knew it their casual conversation morphed into playful banter and enthusiastic storytelling. Rick had confirmed to him that he was in fact a sheriff's deputy. Carl told him about their living arrangement for the summer, that Rick was on a week's vacation and after that there would be a baby sitter to watch him 5 days out of the week while his dad was at work.
It was getting late. Far later than he had originally intended to stay. The three had cleaned up after dinner, relaxing in the living room before a lit fire in the fireplace. It was calming and sleep inducing. Strange in its way, that made Daryl feel that much more at home.
"It is getting late. I know I said I'd take you to a motel, Daryl, but Carl ran an idea by me while you were in the shower."
Daryl sat up a little straighter, wondering where this was going. Rick flashed him that humble smile again, the one that was still making his stomach squirm. "He told me you didn't have any family to visit back home and well, a dingy motel is no place to stay for a month. Neither of us would mind if you stayed here."
His eyes grew a little wider at the offer, one he honestly liked the idea of but couldn't fully believe it to be true, "'M thankful for all this Rick, but I don' wanna impose."
Rick chuckled at this, "You wouldn't be, trust me."
Daryl felt his face flush slightly at the way the man rushed to defend him before he continued, "Really, its not a problem. This coach is a hideabed and I know Carl would love to have you around for a while." He paused before adding, "I would too."
"Please, Daryl?" Carl pleaded, his best puppydog-eyes in place. Daryl leaned forward to rustle the boy's hair, smiling, amused as if they had to ask him twice, "I guess we cou'd do tha'."