AN: another chapter :) angsty yet again. This is during 1952, so just remember that if you are wondering why Carol does not have a phone. Let me know what you think. Trigger warning here; domestic abuse, death etc.
I do not own or profit from The Walking Dead
Chapter 4
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1952
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Something pushed him onwards, and forward. Daryl ran through the night, as fast as his legs would take him, he could hear the pounding of his own heart, a symphony of drums, as he ran. Not panicked, not only determined. In his long lonely life, he'd faced much worse than what was chasing him now. He was determined, to find what he was searching for, only he wasn't quite sure what that was.
All his life, Daryl had dreamed, dreamed of a beach house of all things. He could close his eyes, and picture that house every detail, every window, every wooden shingle on the house. The same dream, almost every night. The house, had a small sign at the end of the walkway. That sign said Angel Cove. He needed to see that house, and tonight was that night.
He grew up in a small town. Two young himself to fight in the ww2, his daddy had come back a changed man. Gone was the kind man he'd remembered, in his place was a drunk, who drowned his sorrow in booze and beating his wife and child.
Daryl had wanted to get away, start over, but he couldn't leave his momma, to deal with his daddy alone. So he stayed and did whatever he could to bring his daddy's rage on himself, instead of his momma. It was the only way he knew how to protect her. Until that night.
That night he'd come home, and found momma, whimpering in the corner, her face barely recognizable, so swollen and bruised, and the blood, the blood was everywhere, except for her hand, where she'd had his daddy's old revolver clenched tightly in her fingers. She'd been in such a state, she hadn't said a word, when he'd pried the gun out of her hands, nor had she protested when he'd lied and confessed that it was him, not momma, who had shot daddy to the police. His family was white trash anyway, no one really cared as long as, someone took the blame.
The bus, taking him and two other prisoners to jail, had stopped, at a sleepy gas station, the "good old boy" guards had been lazy and fat. Needing a Coca Cola, and sweets to continue their journey. The one guard remaining on the bus, had fallen asleep, the keys dangling ever so temptingly.
The two other prisoners had motioned to him, as they made their escape, to come with them, and he wasn't planning on it. He really wasn't, but then with his head, plastered against the window of the bus his eyes had caught a glimpse of something that set his heart a blazing. A sign reading, Angel Cove. He'd escaped with them.
The three had wished each other all the best and separated, each setting out on their own. He was better on his own. He'd set off, on his way to Angel Cove and whatever answers it brought him.
He hid his his trail easily, he was certain for the moment, he was not being followed. The other prisoners seemed to draw the attention, but still he ran, practically flew over the land, needing to reach his destination. Like a moth drawn inexplicably to a flame.
He could hear the waves pounding on the shore now, the scent of the salt water of the Atlantic, filling his lungs with a renewed vigour. He burst onto a clearing, and there it sat, the house, the one in his dreams.
Barely able to stand, he made his way, gasping for breath, his lungs on fire. Walking up the stone walkway he knocked, and he could hear, a dog, barking. A soft voice whispering "Hush now Angel, it's alright."
The door opened, eyes as blue as the sea, stared up at him, unafraid only curious. Home, he thought, before his body overtook him, and he fainted into her arms.
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Well this was a pickle Carol thought as she watched the man, lying on the floor in front of her fireplace. It was the most excitement she'd had in, well years. She'd only just managed to drag the man closer to the fire, she sank down to her knees, beside him, almost in a trance, she picked up his hand, bringing it to her face. The most profound sense of deja vu, hitting her, as she set his hand back down, and pushed the hair out of his face.
He had no grease in his hair, most men this age seemed to have fallen victim to the unfortunate fad, she'd never liked it, although her experience with men at her age of twenty two was non existent, she'd always thought she'd prefer a more old fashioned hairstyle. One she could run her fingers through, or so she did in her daydreams. Her father made certain that boys were few and far between.
Her momma had passed while giving her life, in response her daddy had become, overprotective of his little girl, to the end that no man dared to approach her. Her father was Colonel in the army and at the moment was in Korea. She was on break from college, her daddy had been a little uneasy at her plans to spend her break at their beach house.
She closed her eyes as a moment of unease entered her soul at thought of her father's fate at the moment. She touched the medallion at her neck her grandma had given her while her daddy had been fighting in world war 2. It was of Saint Sophia, the mother of faith, hope and charity.
She opened her eyes, and stared at the stranger. She could run to the nearest neighbour. Ask them to go into town and find the sheriff, she wasn't certain where this man came from, the sheriff could take care of this. But as she stared at the man on her floor, she couldn't help but dismiss that option. "Have Faith" she murmured as she grasped the medallion, wondering why this man instilled such a feeling of Safety in her heart.
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He'd awoken with a start, only to find the most beautiful sight in the world staring back at him. He'd struggled to sit up, and she'd come over, helping him, her fingers soft, sending chills racing through his spine. He didn't know her, but yet she was the most familiar person he'd ever met.
"I didn't send word to the sheriff" she whispered, "but Angel," she motioned to the chocolate lab lying sleepily on the floor tail waving at a mention of her name, "is viscous and protective." She finished with a grin. Her eyes, kind.
It had come spilling out of him. The whole story, everything. His parents, what his momma had done, how he'd taken the blame, and the dreams, how almost every night he dreamed of walking up the walkway to her house. How when he had the chance he had to know, what was behind the door.
She'd listened quietly, at one point taking his hand, almost unconsciously, squeezing it tightly.
"My daddy might be able to help you." She'd whispered. She told him if her dad, and how he had powerful friends. "He's calling the phone at the library in town in one week's time, to speak to me. Have faith." She'd murmured.
"You only just met me." He'd whispered.
"You have a good soul, I can see it on your eyes." They'd stared at one another in confusion, both have a sense of time repeating itself.
The week passed and it was the happiest of Daryl's life. They spent most of the daylight hours in doors, but at night, at night they walked the beach. Laughing talking, throwing sticks for Angel who chased them happily.
The day before, she was to speak to her father, somehow it happened. A look had ignited a touch which lead to a fire, that had burned out of control. He'd looked at her in shock as their passion had crested and he'd broken through the barrier of her virginity.
"I love you." She whispered and pulled his head down to her, threading her fingers through his hair. They'd drifted off to sleep holding one another. A feeling of contentment like he had never known.
When he awoke it was evening. Angel paced restlessly at the door. With a chuckle he dressed, taking the dog out to relieve herself, heading out down the beach to walk her.
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Carol sat up with a gasp and a knock to the door. Daryl was gone, she searched frantically as a knock sounded on the door.
Taking a deep breath she saw the distinctive hat of the sheriff behind the door.
"Sheriff Grimes?" She asked as she opened.
"Miss Carol, just passing by to let you know we have three escaped convicts on the loose. Pretty sure they ain't in the area no more, but when I made the initial visit, didn't know you were here. Maybe you shouldn't be out here on your own?" The sheriff asked.
"I'm fine." She said with a smile and made small talk until the man's car was trailing down the long dirt road.
She turned, frantically running to the beach searching in the darkness, when something caught her eye in the water.
It could not be him, could it? She had warned him of dangerous rip tides and undertows today. He would not have gone out. Would he? He was not a swimmer he'd joked but maybe to avoid the sheriff.
"Daryl!" She frantically called and making a swift decision she ripped off her skirt and shook of her shoes and jumped in the water.
She swam out to the small object she'd seen, to realize the wind had blown a rogue bouey loose. Suddenly her feet, seemed to become entangled in the strong deadly current. With a cry she tried to free herself swimming as forcefully as she could.
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Daryl was heading back to the house with Angel when something on the beach caught his attention.
Carol's skirt and and shoes. The dog began to whimper, and bark at the sea, he looked up and he saw her with dread.
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As he was swimming towards her she screamed at him to go back. He wouldn't, but it was already too late he was caught. They reached out to one another in the water, fingers grasping, he pulled her too him. Even as the undertow tried to pull them under.
"I told you to go back "she cried.
"No, never leaving you again." His limbs were tiring. He could feel his soul leaving him.
Her eyes cleared, and so did his. He grasped and kissed her fiercely. "My love" he whispered as his memories returned of long ago.
"You found me." She whispered.
"Stay safe" he murmured, "I will always find you." He gasped as the undertow won the battle and they sank beneath the water hands entwined, their souls already raising above them free and heading toward the light.